But I knew. I knew a long time ago. Because he told me, and I can’t help but wonder if he even remembers. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. It feels like a lifetime ago. Back before the world got so complicated—when the worst kind of heartache was a schoolyard crush, the angsty sting of unrequited love. Turns out, love gets far more dangerous when it’s actually returned.
I try not to be so affected by David’s arm around me, reminding myself of my place with him—which is his best friend’s kid sister at least, and a friend at best—but when you’ve carried a torch this long, it doesn’t take much to spark its flame.
“So, kid, no morning classes tomorrow, right?” he asks.
I narrow my eyes, wondering where he’s going with this. “Not until noon,” I confirm warily.
“Perfect. BEG’s hosting its first party of the year, and you’re my guest of honor.”
“What in the actual fuck are you talking about, David?” Looks like a week of living with Lani has started to rub off on me.
David startles vaguely at my colorful response, and I barely catch the amused smirk that tugs at his mouth. Before he can answer me, however, Lani’s enthusiasm bubbles over.
“Uh, yes. Yes, yes, yes! We accept your generous invitation to be your guests of honor!” She emphasizes the plural, and again I laugh. This time David also cracks a smile, and deep in my belly the vicious snake of jealousy lifts its ugly head.
I urge it back to sleep. “A frat party? Really, David?” I arch a skeptical brow. David’s in Beta Epsilon Gamma, a fraternity notoriously filled with athletes—and decidedly different kinds of players. But he doesn’t live in the house—not his style, he told me.
He hooks his arm further around me so he can turn me to face him, and we all stop walking. “Bea…Come.” His eyes—a green-and-honey hazel that have fascinated me for years—grab hold of me, seducing and imploring.
“Why?” I breathe.
David sighs. “You need a fun night out, where you don’t have to worry about anything, or anyone.”
“And you think a frat house is the place to do that?” My skepticism returns. I’m not naïve. I know what goes on in places like that. And David knows me well enough to know my social anxiety gives me more than just the usual reasons to be leery of a frat party.
“My frat house, kid. With my brothers. And more importantly, me.” He looks at me meaningfully.
I look away, my eyes inadvertently landing on his defined bicep, and I notice ink I haven’t seen before peeking out from beneath the hem of his short sleeve. My fingers reach out to stroke it before I can stop myself. A quote in beautiful black script, matching the others.
There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
“Hamlet.” It’s one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite plays—more words from the master to add to David’s collection.
“Shakespeare, really?” Lani says.
He cocks an eyebrow. “You got a problem with the Bard?” he retorts, but he’s looking at me. They’re the exact words he said to me after he got that first quote inked into his skin—also from the Bard, back in high school.
My eyes automatically shoot to his T-shirt, envisioning the ink over his left pectoral muscle, engraved into his skin back when he was legally too young to even get one. It made him seem like a real badass, even though it was a quote from Shakespeare.
But it’s this new one that’s got me thinking. Because there is more to life than I can learn in a classroom; I know that.
“Beth’s taking a Shakespeare elective this semester—maybe she can study off of your body,” Lani smirks. We both ignore her.
“Look, Bea, college isn’t only about academics, okay?”
Bea. Not kid.
“And I’m not saying you need to make up for lost time all in one night. Just to try and keep an open mind and have some fun. You trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” My answer is instant and honest.
And the thing is, part of me knows David is right. I missed out on a normal high school experience in part because I never knew how to find any balance. When I wasn’t surrendering to social anxiety—or the debilitating emptiness that flared more and more—I was diving into a relationship I was ill-prepared for, experiencing too much, too early on. I can’t pretend I haven’t wondered what it would have been like to feel young and carefree like everyone else my age. To drink a little too much, smoke an occasional joint, or engage in a hookup that had no greater meaning. I’ve still only ever slept with one guy, and that was over three years ago.
“Great. Show up at nine.”
And I will. Because David called me Bea, and even if it was just a slip of the tongue to him, it is a magic word to me, and I wonder if he even remembers when he first called me that.
* * *
