Hustle

by Ashley Claudy

She straightens, back still towards me, but her tiny body lifts and drops with her sigh. “You could get work done here. I'm sure it's much more quiet.”

  “Maybe next time, all my stuff is back at the dorm. Did you see the mailbox was hit again?” I change the subject, I only wish it was a happier one.

  “They did it Friday night. I didn't see or hear them this time though.” She shrugs as she walks past me down the hall towards the kitchen.

  “I set it back up, but it needs to be screwed into the post. I'll do that before I leave.” I follow her into our bright yellow kitchen and start making the coffee as she gets out the eggs. “Did you report it yet?”

  “I told Bruce yesterday.”

  “Bruce?” I pause from scooping in coffee and turn towards her, teasing her. “Officer Bradford? You're on a first name basis now?”

  “Oh hush.” She smiles with pink cheeks. I get my fair skin that turns red with any emotion from her. “He's a friend, and you know it.” She picks up the bowl of cracked eggs and whisks them together. “There's a new lifetime movie I DVR'd last night, will you stay long enough to watch it with me?”

  “Yeah,” I agree and turn on the coffee maker.

  * * *

  I don't know the number that sent the text, but my stomach swirls as I read it, recognizing the words.

  I want to see you

  “Who's that?” Mom nods to the phone in my hand with a curious look.

  “I'm not sure.” She's on the love seat cattycorner to me, and I know she can't see the screen from there, but I hold the phone close like she might, like it's a secret I want to keep to myself. It is.

  The color drains from her, and she sits up. “You don't need to change your number again, do you?”

  “No.” I'm quick to reassure, the empty chill of guilt fills me. I don't want her to worry. “It's not those types of texts. You're the only one here that knows this number.”

  “Good.” Her gaze slips back to the TV, our second movie reaching its climax as a knife-wielding stalker closes in on a girl in her kitchen. “Oh, I knew she couldn't trust her,” she talks to the TV now.

  “That's because you've seen this movie before, we both have.” I glance back at my phone.

  Where are you?

  My heart tumbles in my chest, fear flipping with excitement. I think I know who it is. In fact, I'd bet on it—even though I never gave him my number. But, I can't resist the chance to poke that ego with my reply text.

  Who is this?

  My phone’s still for a while, long enough that my mom fast forwards through another commercial break, but then a text comes through.

  Take a guess

  “You're smiling an awful lot for not being sure who it is,” Mom drawls out, sticking her foot out to poke my leg from under the throw blanket draped across her.

  “It's,” I peek at her and she's got a small knowing smile as she nods, encouraging me to continue, “a friend. I think.”

  There's no hiding it from her though, my mother’s always had that uncanny ability to read my mind and I can see it in her light eyes that she is reading me right now.

  “Mm hm,” she hums. “So this friend… how old is he? Is he in your classes? What's his name?”

  “His name's Andrew.” I stare at my phone, typing and deleting responses. “He's not in any of my classes, but he goes to Eastern.” I close my eyes and hit send. It makes my blood rush in a way that I can't understand. It's the same rush I get when he approaches me.

  I need a hint

  “When did you meet him?”

  “Two weeks ago.” I don't even have to think about it. Two weeks ago, I lost my mind, and my body stopped belonging to me, it reacts for him instead.

  I'm out front of your building. Come out.

  I choke as I read and reread his text.

  “Are you okay? What is he saying to you?”

  “It's okay. I just inhaled spit.” I pat at my chest and then bang out a text as quick as I can.

  I'm not there. Sorry.

  The responding text is quick.

  Where are you? When will you be here?

  “Has he asked you out on a date? Or do you only see him in groups?”

  In her magic way, she gets right to the heart of the matter. I can't answer yes to either of those questions, and as I look at her, I'm reminded why Andrew is a bad idea. The fact that he makes me forget that with the tiniest bit of attention makes him even more dangerous.

  I'm busy today

  I send the text and then turn off my phone. But I lose my nerve and turn it back on, switching it to silent and tucking it into my pockets.

  “I just see him around sometimes.” I turn back to the movie, pretending the fight scene has all my attention.

  * * *

  Rose is waiting for me in our typical seat in the cafeteria, like every Monday since we started school. It's the one day a week our schedules line up for lunch.

  I set my tray down and take the seat opposite her. “Where's your food?”

  “I'll stick to a liquid diet today.” She sips on her large drink.

  “Why?” I tear open ketchup packets for my fries.

  “Freshmen fifteen. I've already gained three; I've got to reverse this. Go to the gym with me tonight after I get out of class.”

  I groan. “If you really want me to, I'll keep you company, but—” I swallow my words as something shifts in the air, the chatter a little louder, the energy spiked a little higher. And somehow, I already know what caused it.

  Andrew.

  He's focused on his phone and dismisses those who approach him with a nod of his hat covered head, never breaking his path.

  “Oh, shit,” I spit out as he gets closer. Rose's giggling makes me suspicious. “Did you tell him we would be here?”

  “Last night.” She turns her smile towards him. “Hi, Andrew.”

  My phone rings as Andrew spins the chair from one table over to our table.

  I pull my cell phone from my bag, but it's that same number from yesterday, the one I thought had been Andrew’s, and that only adds to the surprise of the moment.

  Before I can answer, Andrew takes the phone from my hand.

  “Hey.” I reach for it back, but he turns away slightly, thumbs bouncing over my screen.

  “I'm saving my number. That way you don't have to question when it's me.” He extends my phone to me, fingers grazing mine as I take it back, but it's his stare that's stirring me from the inside out.

  “Are you busy today?” He rests his forearms on the table and leans in towards me, and his blue t-shirt stretches over the broad curve of his shoulders.

  I pull my eyes away from him as I put my phone back in my purse, discovering that he’s saved his number under Drew. “I've got a study group and then plans with Rose.” I nod to my friend across the table from me.

  “Our plans are early, we should be back by five.” Rose grins and sucks on her straw, like she didn't just set me up.

  He nods to her, and then his eyes sweep back to me. “I've got a meeting now, but I'll call you later.” He rises to his feet but places one hand on the back of my chair and the other on the table. He leans over me, trapping me as his lips dip to my ear. “Do you make all your friends work so hard to hang out with you?”

  “Have I made it hard?” I lean back to question him, but seeing those lips curl into a smile and his green eyes hooded under dark lashes makes me forget everything. He's the one who makes everything difficult, even speech. “All you have to do is ask.”

  I wait for him to ask, but he doesn't. He rises to standing, releasing me from his intoxicating hold, but his grin still has me spinning. Then he walks out, and I notice he's still got everyone else's attention, but now I do, too. Or maybe I'm paranoid, but the sensation of being part of the whispered conversations around me is distinct, and shifting eyes scrape across me.

  Rose isn't fazed by any of it. “Maybe we can both go over there tonight. That'll be so fun, me and you and Drew and TJ.”
/>
  “I don't know, he didn't ask anything.” I pick up a fry, trying to shake the tingles he's left on my skin. “And…” I lower my voice as I lean onto the table. “What about Tatum? Isn't it wrong?”

  She gives a sympathetic smile, but shrugs. “I don't know what their deal is, but she's said they aren't a thing. And you said he wanted to be friends, and you agreed. I don't think you're doing anything wrong. Besides, the girls are fun to hang out with, but TJ and the team are more fun. They could be better friends.”

  I want to buy into what she says, but a heavy doubt stays anchored to me, and it's only yanked further by the side glances still being shot my way. While I can't deny that Andrew's attention excites me, this attention that follows in his wake fills me with uncertainty.

  8: Want

  I close my science textbook and then stretch in the chair, arching my back and twisting to the sides.

  “Finished?” Rose asks.

  “Yup, finally got through the review packet for Biology. What about you?”

  She closes the book she's reading and tosses it away from her on the bed. “Shoot me now. I've been staring at Beowulf for the past twenty minutes, there's no way I can understand it. I'll just spark notes it before class tomorrow.”

  “Isn't that the first story ever written, or something like that?” I close my laptop and rise from my chair, reaching my fingers to the ceiling, continuing my needed stretches. My body's stiff from sitting, but the muscles are beginning to sore from our earlier workout.

  “Am I supposed to know the answer to that?” She groans and lies back on her pillow, staring at the ceiling. “I'm done for the night. My brain hurts. What time is it?”

  “Eleven-twenty.” I sit on the edge of my bed and turn our TV on, flipping through the channels.

  Rose pops her head up. “And still no phone call?”

  I shake my head but keep my focus on the screen in front of me.

  “Me neither,” she sighs. “Not for nothing, I'm glad we got homework done, but this fucking sucks. We shouldn't have waited around for them.”

  I lift one shoulder in a shrug. “I needed to get this work done. And it's nice to stay in sometimes.”

  “Well, I can guarantee they didn't stay in.” She picks up her phone from the nightstand table. “Maybe I'll text something, just to see his response.”

  Her fingers freeze on the screen when my phone starts vibrating on the desk at the foot of my bed. She lunges towards it and grabs it, before I even sit up.

  “It's Andrew.” She tosses the phone so it bounces on mattress in front of me. “And he's actually calling, not just texting.”

  My skin prickles with thousands of goose bumps as his name flashes on my screen.

  “Answer it,” Rose demands with a wave of her hand towards the phone. She'll probably answer it, if I don't. “TJ might be with him, too.”

  “Hello?” I put the phone to my ear.

  “What are you doing right now?” Andrew's smooth voice is clear, no sounds in the background.

  “Just finished up some homework. What about you?” I stretch out my words and turn away from Rose, unable to handle all the faces she's making.

  “Hmm, finished homework? You can come out then.”

  “It's late, and I've got class in the morning.” A pillow hits my back, but I only glance at Rose, her hands are up like I'm crazy.

  “So, I've got practice in the morning, but this is only the start of the night.”

  “Well…” I shake off the pressure of my friend's stare and his incredulous tone. “We must be on two different schedules because this is the end of my night.” I almost don't say it, but I add, “You should have called earlier.”

  “Tell me your schedule then.”

  His demand surprises me and my words tangle in my head. “I don't have one. I just—I'm just going to bed—I go to bed when I'm tired.” I press my lips together, silencing myself.

  A moment passes where he doesn't say anything. But then he sighs with acceptance and asks, “What time is your last class tomorrow?”

  “I'm done at noon.” I hold my breath, my blood pulsing with expectation.

  “All right. Have a good night, Brook.”

  “You too, Andrew.”

  “Drew.”

  “What?” I bring the phone back to my ear.

  “My friends call me Drew, not Andrew.” Then he hangs up.

  “What are they doing?” Rose asks the second I pull the phone away.

  “He didn't say.”

  “But they are going out?” At my nod, she hops onto my bed and shakes my shoulders dramatically. “Why did you say no?”

  “It's past Eleven.” I break her hold on me. “No innocent requests come after eleven.”

  Her frown bursts into a giggle. “Did your mom tell you that?”

  “It's true, though,” I defend.

  “It probably is.” She sighs out the rest of her laughter. “And it's probably a good thing you said no. I think I'll steal a page from your playbook and start saying no a little more often, see what TJ thinks of that.” A devious look narrows her eyes, and her smile curls as she moves back to her own bed. “Yeah, that's exactly what I'll do. He's busy? Well I can be busy, too.”

  * * *

  “Brooklyn.” Tatum follows me out of class, and I slow my walk so she can catch up. “I can't do coffee today.” She says it as if we had plans to get coffee. “But maybe we can meet up after your next class and get lunch?”

  “I can't, I've got a meeting after class,” I explain as we walk out of the building.

  “What sort of meeting?”

  “It's to plan a kids birthday party for Saturday.” I pause at the crosswalk to finish our conversation before we part ways.

  “Oh, the one the Sigmas are helping you with?”

  “Yeah. How did you know?” I smile, curious.

  “They're our brother frat, remember? Some of the Deltas are helping out this Saturday, too. So, is this meeting with Scott?” She drops her voice like we're sharing a secret.

  “Yeah.” I step away from her and glance at the busy crosswalk. I should cross now. “I've got to get to class.”

  “We'll get lunch another day.” She nods and walks backwards, still facing me with a smile stretched across her face. “Have fun at your meeting.”

  * * *

  Scott gestures down to the other end of the green lawn. “I figure we can put the soccer goals up at that end, going the short way, and the cones can outline the mini field.”

  “That’s good.” I'm in awe as I look over the length of the field, but I've got a hundred concerns swimming in my stomach. I want this to go well. “Are we allowed to set up tables on the grass? It won't ruin the field will it?”

  “Stop worrying.” He grips one of my shoulders. “Tables are fine. They have events out here all the time, you're not going to ruin anything.” He angles me to look at the opposite end of the field. “We'll have grills set up on the edge of the parking lot there. One of the guys is bringing them Saturday morning. So maybe keep the tables to that end.”

  “That sounds great.” I try to take his advice and stop worrying. “I'll be at the clinic to receive all the kids that morning, but I'll get the tables and stuff out here Friday, and you'll be here Saturday morning to help with set up, right?”

  “Right.” His hand falls away from my shoulder, and I turn towards him as he stiffens. “What's he doing here?”

  I follow his gaze, and see Andrew strolling over the grass. There's students walking on the sidewalk along the edge of the field, but he's not on the sidewalk. It’s obvious he’s coming towards us. He's dressed like he's come from the gym, basketball shorts, a grey fitted Under Armour shirt, and a black cap covering his head. But he walks like he can move things, like he's in charge.

  “I don't know.” I barely speak.

  “I should probably go.” Scott looks down at me, his previous easy going smile gone. “He doesn't like me.”

  “You don't need
to leave because of him.” I try to give him all my attention. I focus on him, but all I can think about is Andrew approaching, and my senses go into overdrive. “Don't worry about him.”

  A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but doesn't form. “I don't need to worry about him?”

  “No,” I throw out my response as I turn to question Andrew, who's unavoidably close now. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  It's impossible not to return the smile he gives, it's impossible to pull my eyes off of him as he steps close.

  He stretches one arm out and dips down to pull me into a hug. I'm sure he can feel my heart pounding through my chest.

  “I heard about this party, set some things up, and wanted to let you know—” He releases me from the hug, but still has his hand resting on my lower back as he faces Scott. “—let you both know— that since it's our bye week, some of the football players will come and help, too. I've got a local restaurant to offer donations for food, and Kay's Bakery will make a cake, just tell her what style.”

  My mouth opens and closes a few times, but no words form.

  “Thanks.” Scott nods to him with his hands in his jean pockets.

  “Not a problem.” Andrew looks down at me and his hand leaves my back to slip a piece of hair behind my ear in a light touch that makes my body shake. “What else do you need?”

  I swipe my hand over my hair, grabbing onto or wiping away the feel of his touch. “I don't know.” I glance to Scott, but can't keep my eyes off Andrew for long, out of nerves. I don't know what to expect next from him. “I think we have everything pretty much arranged. Just give me the information about food and the bakery.” I tap my fingers over my lips, trying to put my focus back where it should be, on this party. “Will they deliver or do we need to arrange a pick up? I'll have to check with the mom, she might already have a cake. And we've got a bunch of hotdogs already.”