Project Hero

by Briar Prescott

  I snort. “Like any of them would believe me.”

  “You can take it as a compliment, you know? You’re the only one that gets to see me when I let my freak flag fly.”

  “I’m honored.”

  “As well you should be.”

  We both laugh, but then Falcon turns serious. “So… want to tell me what brought that whole unfriendly crush forward?”

  I rub my palm over my face. “Not really.”

  Silence descends between us again before Falcon drops a bomb. “I kind of thought you were sleeping with Anderson.” He makes a face as he says Law’s name, and I gape at him because, What the hell? I mean, it’s true, but still, What the hell?

  “You two seemed awfully cozy on your parents’ porch earlier,” Falcon continues, unbothered by my unsuccessful attempts at speaking.

  “What?”

  “Dude, you were straddling him.”

  “You saw that?” I croak.

  “It’s not like that magnolia bush is a concrete wall.” He rolls his eyes.

  “Well, shit.” I laugh. What else is there to do?

  “Yeah,” he says thoughtfully. “Which was why I was kind of surprised about the whole feelings thing you just spouted at me. You’ve never once looked at me the way you look at him.”

  I swallow hard. “What way is that?”

  “Like he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” he says simply. Falcon studies me for a bit. “He looks at you the same way, you know?”

  I groan and drag my hands through my hair. “I don’t know what happens now,” I admit.

  “Well,” Falcon says, cool as a cucumber. “I’d suggest making that speech again, but to a different audience.”

  Then he looks at me and purses his lips. “Scratch that. You need to say everything differently. The fuck was the unfriendly feelings crap?”

  “I got nervous,” I grumble. “You try and say romantic shit when you’re about to pee your pants from nerves.”

  “Okay, add go to the bathroom before talking to Law to your to-do list,” Falcon says.

  I smack him up the back of his head. “Shut up.”

  Falcon jumps up and reaches out his hand. “Right. Come on.”

  I let him pull me to my feet. “Where are we going?”

  “We are going to come up with a plan.” He starts walking. “God knows without me you’re going to start with the peeing line.”

  “I heard that,” I yell after him.

  “You were meant to,” he shoots back over his shoulder.

  I shake my head and chuckle as I follow Falcon through the trees. Once again, Falcon has taken the lead, but this time, I catch up to him quickly, and we continue our walk side by side.

  I guess it’s the start of a new chapter.

  22

  Law

  It’s official.

  I’m a coward.

  And an asshole.

  I ran away. Sent a text to Andy with a bogus excuse of a sudden work emergency and took off in the middle of the night like the gutless asshole that I am. I pushed Andy into Falcon’s arms and then got the hell out of there because watching those two make googly eyes at each other during the Fourth of July celebration sounded about as delightful as volunteering to let somebody demonstrate the use of experimental torture devices on me.

  So here I am, in the afternoon of a national holiday that people usually spend with family, and I’m one hundred percent alone. My only companion is the bag of takeout from the Chinese place down the street.

  The streets of Montpelier have been decked out with flags and balloons. There was a parade earlier, but I wasn’t in the mood to go and celebrate. All the happy people make my loneliness more pronounced, so I hurry toward my apartment, avoiding eye contact and ignoring the cheerful shouts and waves.

  I have a plan. I’ll give myself exactly two days to wallow, and then, come Monday, I’ll fix a fucking smile on my face and continue on like nothing has happened. For now, though, it’s Netflix and junk food.

  I speed walk to my apartment to limit my exposure to the holiday cheer. I try to wrestle my keys out of my pocket while jogging up the stairs and almost lose my balance on the landing. I let out a curse as I steady myself. I’m so damn occupied with the keys I don’t notice the next obstacle, so I unceremoniously trip on somebody’s feet.

  “What the—” I lift my eyes, and I must be seeing things because there, in front of my door, sits Andy.

  “Hi,” he says cheerfully as I gape at him.

  “Hi.”

  My heart soars at the sight of Andy, sweats and messy hair and all. He looks just like he did the first time I found him waiting on my doorstep, and I take a step toward him, ready to kiss him before I remember that we’re not doing that anymore.

  I lick my lips and stuff the hand that isn’t holding the takeout bag into my pocket. “What are you doing here?”

  I pull out my key. Andy moves to the side, and I step forward, inhaling deeply as I pass him on my way to the door. I don’t know what he bathes in, but Andy smells better than anybody else I’ve ever met.

  He shrugs. “I was in the neighborhood.” Andy follows me inside and closes the door behind him.

  I toe off my sneakers and place the paper bag of food on the kitchen table. “And you just happened to stop by?” I ask. My hands are shaking as I unpack the food.

  Andy drops his laptop bag on the couch and turns toward me. “We have unfinished business,” he says as he opens his bag. He places his laptop on my coffee table. Then he pulls out a small projector and turns in a circle, inspecting his surroundings as he mumbles under his breath about the right wall.

  I step closer. “What’s all this?”

  Andy looks up from where he’s kneeling on the floor, connecting the projector to his laptop. “We have a tutoring session.” He aims the projector toward the white wall behind my TV and nods, satisfied with his work. “Take a seat,” he tells me and points toward the couch.

  “You don’t need to tutor me anymore,” I remind him, but already, my feet are moving toward the couch.

  “It’s one of those buy-one-get-one-free deals,” Andy says. “Just go with it.”

  I zip my lips and concentrate all my attention on Andy. Hah! Like I’m even capable of looking at anything or anyone else when Andy is in the room. I take advantage of the moment and look my fill. Fuck knows if I’ll ever get the chance again.

  There are shadows underneath Andy’s eyes. They’re barely there, but I notice them because I know Andy’s face. I love Andy’s face. I love the tiny dimple that becomes visible only when he laughs out loud. I love the bow of his lips. I love the silvery-gray eyes that are now aimed at me.

  Andy raises one eyebrow. “Ready?”

  I nod. I don’t know what’s happening, and I have no idea how Andy is even here, but I’m going to enjoy the fact that Andy is in front of me. It might be the last time.

  “I thought we’d spice it up a bit, and I’ve added a slide show to today’s lesson,” Andy says and presses a key on his laptop, bringing the projector alive.

  Magnetism, the title reads in big, bold letters.

  “Magnetism,” Andy says. He looks nervous for some reason as he looks at the screen, then at me, then at the wall, and then he makes a stiff hand gesture toward the title. “Magnets,” he says, “have this fun little quirk. They can snap together and then stick like that until you pry them apart.

  “Not always, though,” Andy continues. “Sometimes magnets repel each other.” He glances at me quickly, and his hand is shaking a bit as he clicks a key on his laptop. The title slide is replaced by the next slide.

  I stare at the wall. There, on my living room wall, are two pictures. Not of magnets, as the title would suggest. Instead, it’s a selfie of Andy and a picture of me that looks like it’s taken from the hockey team’s website, where they have headshots of all of us. In between the photos, somebody has drawn some arrows that point away from each other.

  My gaze
shoots toward Andy. He looks away from me quickly, licks his lips, swallows, and continues. “Magnets have poles—a north pole and a south pole—and when you try to push together, say, two north poles, the two magnets push away from each other because their forces are not compatible.”

  The slide changes again. This time, there’s a photo of a… pizza? I’m guessing it’s a reference to the Italian restaurant we were at when I convinced Andy to coach me in tutoring.

  Andy continues speaking and clicking through slides. There are all sorts of pictures that look random at a first glance but actually are all related to my and Andy’s history. All the while, Andy continues talking about magnets. Magnetization. Magnetic fields. Permanent magnets. Electromagnets. Only he’s not really talking about magnets.

  Picture after picture appears on my wall. All of them telling our story.

  Only in this version, it’s not only me who feels the attraction. According to the pictures on my wall, Andy has spent these last few weeks falling in love with me too. Andy stops at a slide that has a photo I’ve never seen before. It’s Andy and I in Andy’s parents’ backyard. We’re sitting next to each other and we’re smiling. If the look on my face doesn’t scream love, then I’m a blob fish.

  “Attraction,” Andy says.

  Of course, right as my heart soars with hope, there’s another picture change, and now there’s a photo of Falcon.

  He clicks again and the slide changes. This time it’s two stick figures. One of them has a crazy head of hair. The stick figures are drawn standing close together. They’re kissing. I rear back like I’ve been slapped.

  Man, that’s a cruel and unusual way to find out that the guy you’re in love with does not, in fact, feel the same way about you. The pain I’m feeling inside must be all over my face because Andy shouts, “No! Wait. Please, you have to watch the whole thing.” He clicks and a thought bubble appears above their heads with just one word in capital letters: EWW!

  Andy clicks again, and… that’s the end of the slideshow.

  I blink a couple of times at the abrupt conclusion.

  He bites his lower lip as he ends the presentation with elaborate, magician-like hand gestures and says, “Ooh, a cliffhanger!”

  Andy bends down and takes something from his bag. He walks toward me, his fingers wrapped in a fist to conceal whatever he’s hiding in his palm. He stops in front of me and shoves his hand toward me. I cock my head to the side and slowly raise my hand, palm up. I study the small magnet that lands in my hand.

  “Hold it up,” Andy instructs me.

  I do as he says, and he kneels in front of me so that we’re at eye level with each other. Between Andy’s fingers, there’s another magnet. He brings it forward until the two click together.

  “I find myself strangely attracted to you,” Andy says with a shrug. Then he winces. “Shit! That was the wrong one. Umm. Soul mates attract each other like magnets?” he says like he’s not sure of himself. Then he scrunches his nose. “Man, that sounds even cheesier than it did when we practiced it. Damnit, I’m fucking it all up.” He swipes his palm over his forehead. “Did you swallow magnets because you’re so attractive?” he rushes out and then slams his eyes shut and groans.

  I think I’m in a state of shock. One that even extremely bad puns can’t seem to bring me out of.

  Andy peeks at me through his curls. “Did any of that make you want to bang me with undying passion?” he asks and scrunches his nose.

  Well, that does it.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Ah, fuck it,” Andy says and throws his magnet on the floor. “Okay. Here’s the thing. I’m going to tell you something, but you’ve got to promise you won’t freak out.”

  He pauses dramatically, and it kind of looks like he’s about to pass out before he blurts out, “I’m in love with you. And I know I promised there wouldn’t be any feelings and shit, but I failed. So… oops? Although, I’d like for you to take into consideration that it wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so goddamn irresistible and funny and smart and great, so if you think about it, really, it’s your fault that we’re in this pickle to begin with.” He raises his palms like he expects me to argue. “Now, I’m prepared to take half the blame. Well, maybe we’ll split it forty-sixty. Anyway, the point is that, yeah, there’s love. Inside me.”

  Andy takes a deep breath, which is good because the guy looks like he’s about to pass out. Me, on the other hand? Well, I’m speechless. Happiness settles over me, deep and all-encompassing. It feels like there’s sunshine inside me. I feel lighter than I’ve ever felt before and holding my smile back is impossible.

  “Would you say,” I start as I slide down on the floor in front of Andy, “that what you feel for me is like an impenetrable stone wall of feelings?” I ask because it wouldn’t be us without a bit of teasing.

  Andy’s eyes widen as he remembers the rambling from when he was trying to convince me that sleeping together was a good idea.

  “Shut up,” he says with a laugh and pushes at my shoulder.

  He looks so damn cute and sexy, and I’ve missed him so much that I can’t do anything other than grab his face between my palms and slam my mouth down on his.

  Andy’s familiar taste and smell surround me, and it feels like home. I sink into the kiss until we’re both breathless. A low hum of desire mixed with love runs through me, but before I’m going to address that, I need to know what happened with Asola.

  Andy makes a face at the mention of his former crush. “Uh, well, I kissed him, and it was easily the most horrifying experience of my life. I mean, I can now safely say that I know what incest feels like.”

  Relief rushes through me. It’s as if those words chase away the last of the doubts that were hiding inside me.

  “I was never in love with Falcon,” Andy continues. “It was just a case of hero worship that got out of hand. He’s been my best friend, hell, my only friend, for a long time, and I guess I twisted that friendship in my head until I started to think it was love, but the more I fell for you, the more I started to realize that what I felt for Falcon didn’t compare in any way.” He shrugs. “But then you told me to go to Falcon, and I started doubting myself, and I told Falcon that I had a crush on him in the most awkward speech ever made. It included references to peeing, so you can try and imagine the magnitude of awful I was spewing out.”

  That… sounds like something Andy would do, actually.

  “Anyway,” Andy continues. “I kissed him. It was traumatizing. We’ll continue being friends. Now you kiss me, because with you, I plan to be a lot more than friends.”

  I can’t help but laugh at that. “Is that so?”

  “Oh yeah. I bet you didn’t expect that outcome when you came to the library to talk me into tutoring your team. Man, you got a lot more than you bargained for that day.”

  “You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

  “You say that now, but just you wait unt—”

  I shut him up with a kiss, and he laughs. Andy wraps his arms around my neck and pulls me closer.

  I should probably get used to the surge of happiness. I have a feeling it will be a permanent part of my life from now on.

  Epilogue

  Law

  10 years later

  * * *

  I push the door open a crack and slide in. The goal is to go unnoticed. It’s like a game. I try every time I’m here, but it’s as if Andy has planted a bug somewhere on my person because he notices me almost every single time.

  Today is one of the days I get lucky. Andy’s back is toward the class as I slide into a seat at the back.

  “Okay, people,” Andy says. “Let’s revise. What is acceleration?”

  He points to a blonde girl in front of him. “Change in velocity over time,” she shoots back immediately.

  “Okay, now, an object is traveling in a straight line. Its acceleration is given by”—Andy scribbles a formula on the whiteboard—“C is a constant, n is a real number
…”

  Andy tells his students the rest of the problem and after a couple of minutes, the students start calling out answers. The thing that makes Andy such a great teacher is that he’s so damn enthusiastic and invested in making the topic clear for everybody who sets foot in his classroom. No wonder he’s insanely popular in his department.

  The class continues for a while longer. Andy goes over the lecture until he’s satisfied everybody’s got it. He is animated and alive in front of the class. So unlike the timid guy I hired to tutor my college hockey team a decade ago. It’s been an honor watching the transformation. I was next to him for every late-night freak out and session of self-doubt when he first started teaching classes after enrolling at MIT for his PhD. Looking at Andy now, you’d never guess that, once upon a time, he found a group of seven to be too intimidating to teach.

  At front of the room, Andy smiles and nods. “We’re done here, guys. Good job today. Don’t forget that we have an exam coming up, and I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

  Chairs scrape as the classroom empties, people calling out their goodbyes as they leave. Some of them smile and wave at me as they pass. I’m a regular, and from time to time, some of Andy’s students recognize me. I’m not famous by any stretch of imagination, but the hardcore hockey fans recognize people from the coaching staff as well, I guess.

  Now that the room has emptied, it isn’t hard for Andy to spot me. He doesn’t come to me, though. Instead, he leans his ass against his desk and a sexy smile curves his lips. “Mr. Carter,” he calls. A shiver of pleasure runs over my skin at the sound of my married name on his lips. I’ve had the privilege of calling Andy my husband for five years now, and it feels just as good as it did the first time.

  My mom and dad were disappointed when I chose to change my name, but using the same name felt right for me and Andy, and since Andy refused to be Andy Anderson, the choice of which name to use wasn’t that difficult.