“Okay.” She lets it go. “Read me chapter four.”
I bend over the book. And over the top of my head, I see that Lucy looks at Benson in the doorway, and Benson looks back at her, and something moves between them in the second before I’ve found the start of chapter four. I don’t know what. Couple stuff. Telepathy. I go back to reading, because page eighteen isn’t going to read itself, and I’ve got a quiz to un-fail.
When we’re done, I fold cash into her hand. Too much, and she knows it.
“Stanley, this is—”
“It’s for your time.” I close her fingers over it. “There’s a lot more where that came from, Lucy, don’t worry about it.”
She tries to give some back. I don’t let her.
I’ve already squared the rest of it, too — emailed the professor, asked for the retake before it got to the point of no return, theway I never do, the way I’d never tell my dad I had to. She said yes and said I could grab extra credit on top of it if I wrote her something — a real opinion, mine, on anything in the unit. My pick.Easy.
Benson’s looking at me from the doorway a moment too long.
I grin at him. “I’m gonna pass philosophy, Reeve. Watch me.”
He smiles. “Yeah.” He looks at Lucy gathering her books. “My girlfriend’s the best.”
On Tuesday night, the house is mostly empty, and Benson hands me a beer I didn’t ask for. He sits down on the other end of the couch. There’s a game on, low.
“I’m gonna ask you one thing,” he says, eyes on the TV.
“Shoot.”
“Whatever it is.” He takes a drink. “And I think we both know what it is. Don’t break Rule One.”
I keep my eyes on the screen. Somebody scores on it. Neither of us reacts.
“Rule One is intact,” I tell him. “Air-tight. Hermetically sealed. I’d take a polygraph right now, strap me in.”
“I didn’t ask for the play, Stan.” His voice doesn’t go up. “I asked you not to break Rule One.”
“And I’m telling you. It’s not happening.”
He nods, once. “Okay.” He drinks his beer.
I have every opportunity right now to give him shit for dating Lucy and breaking the rule himself. It’s lined up fucking perfectly for me, but I keep my mouth shut. I know what he’s getting at. He and I have a lot on the line, and no time to dick around. But Lucy didn’t drag him under, which is why the rule is a thing. I guess if you’re in love with a good girl, there’s room for hockey.
Then Reeve looks at me, and I can see it written on his face that he doesn’t believe me.
“Whose game even is this?” I say.
“No idea.”
We go back to watching it.
On Wednesday afternoon, Lucy carved out one hour for me. Apparently, the girl is really busy on Wednesdays. This just so happened to work out because the person she’s tutoring is sick, and now I can pay her triple whatever she’s making. And then she has something with her family every Wednesday, so I’m keeping it brief. I just need her help with my paper.
We’re deep in the extra-credit thing when my phone buzzes on the table. I glance at it. Lucy doesn’t look up from the laptop.
Gavin: Brother!! In town this weekend, doing some media at Camden for the org. Gonna crash if that’s cool. Good times’ sake. Miss the Hawthorne House, man. Hope it’s no problem.
And I grin because Gavin’s a brother. We played a full year on a line together, his last year of college and my first. Back when I was a freshman, the last name gave me status, and he took me in. We’ve had some good times. I already know that a weekend of Gavin is going to be loud and loose and exactly the kind of nothing my whole week has been missing.
Me:Always welcome here at HH.
I put the phone away and go back to Aristotle.
