“Do you think he’s inviting you so that you bring me?”
I blink.
“No,” she says to herself. “No, don’t let me over there. He seriously only talked to me for two minutes about the equipment, so I have a serious problem. I’m only going to the Hawthorne House for a party. That’s it.”
I nod. “Okay.”
She puts out a pinky. “I promise. I don’t want my brother on my case about it.”
I nod. “Okay.”
We watch the rest of the episode. Neither of us is paying attention. Gianna is going pink at the cheeks every twenty seconds when she remembers she has just told me about Rowan. I am thinking about Benson nonstop.
Around eleven, we put the lids back on the pints and put them in the freezer. She turns the TV off. She hugs me at the doorway to my bedroom. The hug is short and warmer than any hug she has given me in three weeks.
“Goodnight, Lucy. I’m happy you’re back.”
“Night, G. Me too.”
She smiles. “You make my brother really happy.”
I shyly smile back. “He makes me happy too.”
My bed is cold. I spent two nights in a row with Benson’s warm body around me, and I’m yearning for that right now. I grab my phone. He already texted.
Benson:Goodnight, baby. I wish you were here.
I hug my phone and close my eyes.Me too.
I wake to a text from Benson.
Benson:On the bus now.Benson:Hawthorne boys say hi.Benson:I already miss you.
My heart tugs. How can this man pull at my heartstrings through a few text messages? I grin at the phone as I type.
Me:Miss you. Play well. Don’t let Stanley sing.Benson:Too late. He’s singing Maroon 5.
When I don’t reply after a few minutes, I receive another notification.
Benson:Don’t go. Text me, baby.Me:Text you what?Benson:Anything. Tell me your secrets.Me:I have to get ready for class.Benson:What are you wearing?Me:Pajamas.Benson:The ones I had my mouth on?Me:Maybe.Benson:Send a pic.
He can’t be serious. Another text message comes through, and he sends me a selfie of him on the bus in his sweatpants. I chew my bottom lip when I see his bulge. I snap a quick photo of me lying in bed in my pajamas.
Me:Happy?Benson:Very much.
I attend my Friday classes while staying glued to my phone. Benson texts me nonstop nonsense, and I’m playing along. We’re learning more about each other over texts, and it feels surreal that we are this obsessed with each other. It’s fair to say that I cannot stop reaching for my phone because I want to see what he says next. He asks me questions that require me to think, and I ask him thoughtful ones back.
When I’m at the tutoring center, helping students, my phone keeps buzzing in my pocket. When they start working on a problem, I’m quickly texting him back. It’s like I’m starving for his attention.
At two-thirty, Bear texts me.
Bear:Come over for dinner tonight.Me:I will be there.
I drive there at four. Benson said he reached the hotel room and is going downstairs to eat, so we take a Camdenk from texting. The drive to my mom’s house feels a lot different than what it did a couple of months ago, and the weight lifted off my chest is one I didn’t know I needed. It feels liberating and freeing. I play Benson’s playlist on the drive and don’t skip a single song.
Bear opens the door when I park. Seeing him brings a smile to my face. I haven’t been here since the fiasco with Gianna, and it feels good to be back with my life sorted.
“Hi, Bear.”
