by Stacy Borel
“So how are your classes going?” he asked.
The walk wasn’t super far, and I was wondering why he didn’t ask if he could shower first. Not that I minded. He didn’t smell or anything. “They’re good. My psychology class may be the hardest this semester.”
“Really? I would think psychology would be one of the easiest.”
“I hated it in high school.”
“Why?”
I slowed my pace. “Because I don’t really understand people. And the experiments and stuff they do on animals just seem cruel.”
A handful of cars had driven by. It was getting late enough that crickets were coming out and starting their nightly chirping. Summer evenings were something to bask in. The heat may be a killer, but fire flies, lemonade, and sitting on a porch with a fan blowing on your neck was a feeling that couldn’t be beat. Well, maybe not till now. Wrigley had every ounce of my attention.
“People are easy, Hadley. You just have to pay attention.”
I did pay attention. It was him that never noticed anything. “I think you’re giving yourself too much credit.”
He gave me a sideways glance. “You think so, huh?” His cocky personality took a front seat. “Why’s that?”
“You’re full of questions.”
“I’ve asked two.”
“Three.”
I saw his cheeks rise in a small grin. “Three means I’m full of questions?”
“It does if they are ones I don’t know the answers to.”
“Well, I can say with complete confidence that I know people.” I almost made a sound of mocking. That’s a joke right? “Like right now, you’re nervous. But the one thing I don’t know is why.”
The rubber of my shoe caught on the pavement and I nearly tripped. I coughed loudly to play off my stumble. “I’m not nervous.”
“Yes, you are. You fidget when you’re in your head.”
He looked at me like he wanted know what I felt about that. I was walking so slowly now we might as well be stopped. “I’ve not fidgeted even once.”
“Hadley, nearly this entire walk you’ve been clicking your finger nails. You’ve done that since we were kids.”
I looked down at my hands and, sure enough, my thumb was flicking the nail of my ring finger. He shouldn’t know that I do that. I didn’t want him to know that. Wrigley should never pay that close attention.
“Clicking my fingers is just something I do. It doesn’t mean that I’m nervous.”
“Sure it does. I first saw you do it when we were in second grade and we had a Christmas party. Each of us opened a present from that exchange we had to do. You didn’t like it when the attention was on you and as it got closer to your turn, you clicked your fingers faster. You do it anytime you’re not comfortable. You did it in class the other day.”
He shrugged like it wasn’t a huge deal. Wrigley Brooks, this was a huge fucking deal. You don’t get to notice things about me and not tell me you’ve noticed. You don’t get to see things like you’ve actually paid attention. Not even my own parents have ever noticed I do this.
“That’s one thing. You don’t know people from observing one bad habit they have.”
He raised his eye brow in a challenge. “I know that every morning you would open every curtain in your house because you like the light. And you like to try something at least once. You dress in a way so that people don’t notice you. Oh and you have one foot that’s bigger than the other.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. We were a block away from the Burger Shack and I could smell the fried food. Attempting to be smooth, I asked, “Were you stalking my house? And how in the hell do you know about my feet?”
He chuckled. “Nah. I went jogging every morning, and when I’d pass by your house you must’ve just been getting up, but I’d see you flinging open every curtain that faced the street. I just figured you liked the light. Your feet, well, isn’t that common knowledge?”
“No.”
He shrugged. “Hadley, don’t you remember talking about it in health class when we were like, ten or something?”
I did, but I was shocked he remembered. “That’s weird.”
“Eh, that’s not something most would forget.” He nudged my shoulder with his in a teasing manner. It made me blush.
We were at the Burger Shack and I couldn’t be more relieved. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to know what else Wrigley knew about me. They may have been small things he’d observed or overheard, but I was getting the impression he may have paid closer attention than what I would have guessed. Plus, my poor brain was still comprehending that he’d jogged by my house every morning and would see me in the windows. What was even more, I had never noticed him. I’d been pretty sure that I’d always noticed things about Wrigley.
“Go ahead and order,” he said when we got inside.
As hungry as I was, I didn’t want to seem like a ravenous pig, so I ordered small. “I’ll have a hot dog, and a small Coke.”
“Do you want fries with that?” the kid asked.
“No, thank you.”
Wrigley lifted a brow. “Not hungry?”
“Nah.” I’d grab something later. I was feeling unnerved at the moment. It would look great if I lifted my hand with a French fry in it and my hand was shaking.
He placed his order after I did and paid for both of us. I said thank you and he nodded. Neither of us spoke in the few minutes it took for them to put our food together in a bag. It was awkward but not in a way that made me squirm. It was more that I felt like I wanted to talk to him but didn’t really know what to say. He simply stood leaning against the counter looking sweaty and delicious. I nearly growled under my breath for even having the errant thought.
When they called our number, Wrigley grabbed our food and snagged a few packets of ketchup and mustard. He held the door as we walked out. I hesitated as I wondered if he was just going to give me my food when we got to my dorm, or if we would find a spot to sit down. There were picnic tables outside of the building that was a great place to sit and eat. He paused slightly, unsure of the direction.
I motioned with my head. “This way.”
He started forward and I followed. Again silence ensued and I clenched my fists to keep from clicking my nails. I guess I did it more than I realized. I wanted him to think I was walking in companionable silence, and not a complete ball of nerves. It didn’t take long to get to our destination. When I slowed, he sat down at a table, which made me feel good that he planned on staying.
“So tell me something good, Hadley.”
I blinked at him. “Uh, I’m not sure I’m following.”
He opened the bag and handed me my food. I carefully unwrapped my hot dog and he passed me a couple packets of mustard. “I’m mean, tell me something fun, exciting, something great going on in your life.”
I wanted to choke on my food. The bitterness of the mustard nearly going down the wrong pipe. “I don’t have anything exciting.”
His mouth opened and I watched with rapt attention at how he took that first bite. His eyes closed briefly as if it were the best burger he’d ever tasted. A drop of ketchup fell out from the bottom of his patty. He chewed then licked his lips. His hazel eyes glanced up because I’d not answered him yet. He caught me staring at his mouth. My cheeks felt hot and my eyes shot down to my food.
I heard the amusement in his voice. “Life always has something exciting or worth talking about. Classes are good. What about friends, guys, future plans?”
He didn’t realize that his question gave me butterflies and I wanted to word vomit that I’d never had friends, and guys were a joke.
“School is my focus.” I answered.
“Nah, there’s gotta be something else you’re in to. Hasn’t someone caught your eye?”
He was poking at my exterior wall but I wasn’t budging. “Nope.”
We were at the only table that was shaded by a very large, I would assume, oak tree. A bird was chirping right a
bove me and it was beginning to grate my nerves. Little bird, do you not realize that this is a very important moment in my life? Shoo! Besides it’s not freaking morning when you’re supposed to be all happy and chirpy. The shade was doing nothing to cool down the heat I felt emanating from my body. And the way Wrigley was skeptically looking at me made me feel like I was in a damn pressure cooker.
“Can I ask you something?” The seriousness of his features had me swallowing hard.
“I guess.”
He seemed to stop and think about what it was he wanted to say before he said it. “Why have you always been so standoffish and quiet with me? Like growing up, you always seem to be this wallflower who never socialized with anyone, which made some people even more curious about you.”
Jesus, he just let it all out there didn’t he? “Why would I hang out with people that have never been nice to me?”
He jerked his head back like I’d struck him. “I’ve been nice to you.”
“Sure, now you are.”
“No.” He stated firmly. “I’ve never been a dick to you.”
I sighed. Someone like him didn’t get it because he was always the popular guy who had someone to turn to no matter what he was going through. He wanted to hang out, he could ask one of his dozen friends. If he was angry, he could turn to any of his fellow teammates. If he wanted to go on a date, he just has to close his eyes and point to a random number in his phone and say, ‘meet me’. Life was easy for Wrigley.
I tried to laugh but it came out forced and awkward. “Ignoring me makes you not a dick?”
“Wow... wow,” he said, astonished. “I really don’t think I ever ignored you?”
I shot back, almost too quickly, “How often do you think you spoke to me?”
He set his burger down and genuinely seemed to be thinking. “Well, I guess not all that often. But that doesn’t mean I was shitty to you either.”
Frustration was building. His blatant blindness to his own actions was enough to about make me snap. “Then let me ask YOU a question.” I leaned forward, not caring if I looked awkward and aggressive. “How often did you ever say something to your friends when they had something not very nice to say about me? How often did you say something to one of your girlfriends when she passed me in the halls and laughed at my expense?” His hazel eyes were nearly drowning me in their intensity. It was as thought they were daring me to keep saying what was really on my mind. “Sometimes the lack of voicing something that isn’t okay, is almost worse than the person who is running their mouth.”
Wrigley frowned. He was stoic and it felt like he remained that way for an hour, even if it was only a minute. I could see questions flitting across his beautiful face, but he seemed to be sorting out whatever he was pondering himself. Why did it feel so impossible to talk with him? We were adults, living in an adult world. When there was confrontation, people spoke to each other about it. Except for me, my every emotion was involved and it made it extremely difficult to express anything to him. He was the one person I had growing up where I would have given anything for his attention.
Wrigley didn’t know it but today wasn’t the first time I’d watched him practice. I used to sneak out of my house when I knew he’d be playing ball with his family on their baseball field. I’d run the entire perimeter, hidden in the trees, so I could find the perfect spot to sit and watch. He didn’t know that I purposefully sat behind him in every class I could, just so I wouldn’t get caught staring. And one day, when school was out, I’d been leaving the band room, and I saw him leaning against a wall with Natalie Harmon resting between his legs. She had been pressed against him and they were laughing and smiling at each other. Their closeness made me envious. I’d wanted to know what it felt like to be leaning on all that hard muscle. What it would mean to have that smile and desire focused on me—to breath him in so freely. And when he kissed her...how his lips must’ve felt soft and welcoming.
“I’ve talked to you every time I could.”
“What does that mean when you could?”
He leaned forward, his burger now sitting on the wrapper. His face was quite close to mine and I could smell the sweat and his deodorant when the wind would blow my way. I wanted to close my eyes and catalog it in my memory, but he was holding me there without even touching me. “You’ve never been that open to conversation, Hadley. I’ve approached you many times. You’ve been invited to things and you wouldn’t show. You’re like this closed off person who wears a chip on their shoulder.”
Anger was now bubbling inside me. “Are you kidding me?” I hissed. “If you’d been paying attention, you’d know that I lacked friends because of how people treated me. If I’d come to any of those parties, or days at the lake, I’d have been there purely for the popular crowd’s entertainment.”
He shook his head. “Hadley, we all had someone who picked on us growing up. You just let it affect you.”
Was he serious? “Coming from the most popular guy in school.”
He scoffed, “Popularity doesn’t save you from the bullshit. If anything, it makes it a thousand times worse. It’s how you deal with it that matters.”
“You get that line from your parent’s? Must’ve been such a hardship having any girl you wanted, and friends galore.”
His nostrils flared. “My parents taught me a thing or two. People say they want to be friends with you, but their intentions aren’t always the best. A lot of those so-called people you are referring to used me to make themselves look better.”
My mouth snapped shut. He’s lying to make me feel better. Things like that really only happened in fictional stories. “But what about the ones you hung out with all the time? You, at least, had someone if you needed them.”
Wrigley shrugged. “Sure. I have a couple of friends that really know me. But you could have had them too, if you’d been open to it. I don’t think you realize that you can feel all alone even when you are surrounded by a crowd of people all the time.”
“Oh, I bet.” I rolled my eyes.
Sighing, Wrigley looked down at the food he had left. There were a few people mingling in front of the building, and some of them were giving us a few curious glances. The insecure part of me said they were wondering what a girl like me was doing eating with a guy like him. But the rational part said, it was because they’d heard us raising our voices and anybody would want to eavesdrop on an argument. I brushed off the annoyance of it and zoned in on a couple stray strands of his hair that had broken free of his sweaty mop—they flicked across his forehead whenever the wind blew.
“Why do I get the feeling this is a losing argument?”
“Because it is,” I stated firmly.
He looked at me like I he was considering something. “You know, outside of being at our parent’s houses, this is the longest we’ve ever talked.”
“Yeah.”
“You may be right about my ignoring people around me who weren’t in my little circle of friends. Or maybe I really hadn’t been that open. I’m sorry, Hadley. I really am.”
The sincerity in his voice said he meant it. I swallowed, unsure if that required me to respond, but I did anyway. “Thank you.”
“We should make up time.”
Make up time? What did that mean? I picked up a fry from his side and tentatively took a bite. “What exactly does that mean?”
He smiled. “I’m glad you asked.” I wasn’t so sure that I was. “We are in college now. It was pure coincidence we both ended up at this school and we ran into each other and have a class together. I think the universe is telling us we need to be friends.” I started to shake my head no, but he held his hand up to stop my protest. “And not the kind of friends we were before. I like that you are being brutally honest with me. It’s like you are calling me out on my shit. It’s refreshing. You’re like a non-biased party who is not going to tell me what I want to hear. You know?”
I was absolutely perplexed. “Wrigley, I’m not an unbiased party.” He had
no idea just how much I really wasn’t. “This idea of friendship, don’t you think it’s a little weird? Or maybe the timing of it is strange?”
“Nope, not at all.” He gave me a cocky grin. “I’m officially making you my sidekick. My partner in crime. My confidant. My jelly to my sandwich...”
“Peanut butter,” I corrected.
“What?”
“It’s peanut butter to jelly.”
He made a face. “I hate peanut butter.”
Weird, so did I. “I’m just saying that’s what the saying is.”
He waved his hand around in front of himself. “Whatever, I’m saying I’d like to be better friends. You know what life is like back home, and I like having someone who gets me.”
But I didn’t get him. If I did, I wouldn’t be sitting here with the most confused look on my face. That damn bird was still chirping and I was certain it would poop on me at any moment to snap me back to reality. I was lost with how we went from arguing about how he treated me, to him basically asking me to be besties with him. I had no interest in it. No girl wanted to be the friend in a situation where she pined after the guy. If he was going to start telling me all the details of his life, especially times he was with girls, I had no interest. It would be torture.
“This is a horrible idea.”
“This may be the best idea I’ve ever had.”
“I don’t know what universe you live in, Wrigley Brooks, but you don’t just announce to someone they are going to be your new best friend and that’s the end of it.”
He popped the last bite of his burger in his mouth and slowly chewed. He was eyeing me, a wide smile on his face. “I do, and I just did.”
I gaped at him. I couldn’t do this. I was a complete spaz with him. My usual wallflower behavior multiplied by, like, a thousand and I clammed up. At least until he pissed me off, getting me to speak to him was about as pleasant as pulling teeth. He was just like his brothers: bossy and demanding. He stood from the table and stretched his arms high above his head. An inch of skin was showing between his practice shirt and baseball pants. The small glimpse of a defined V caught my attention. He dropped his arms and walked around to my side of the table. My heart started beating a little harder at his nearness.
