What If It's Us
Page 6
“He’s cute, yeah. Shorter than I usually go for though. Like five seven, maybe five six without the boots. Photoshop-blue eyes, like an alien.”
Dylan claps. “Okay. I’m sold. I am shipping you with the boy you met when you were supposed to be shipping relationship relics to your last boy.”
I shake my head and put down my controller. “D, no. I’m just a bad idea right now. I need to ship myself with me for a bit.”
“You’re never a bad idea, Big Ben.”
“That’s sweet, man. Thanks.”
“In the not-so-distant future we’re going to have too many drinks, I’ll invite myself over at two a.m., and we’re going to . . . cuddle so hard. And I promise not to call it a bad idea the next morning.”
“You ruined the moment.”
“Sorry. Game face back on,” Dylan says. “You’re being hard on yourself. Just because Hudson is an idiot who took you for granted doesn’t mean the next guy will. And damn, you met a cute guy with bad taste in ties the same day you were moving past your ex. This is a sign.”
I think about how Arthur and I talked about the universe, and he comes back into focus. He’s not like the many cute guys I see out and about in the city where I dream up some epic love only to forget what they look like an hour later. Arthur’s teeth were super white with his canine tooth chipped. Messy brown hair. He was too dressed up for anyone our age; an alien would probably dress up like that if it arrived from another solar system and was trying to pose as an adult but didn’t realize how baby-faced it was. I shouldn’t have run out of the post office when I did. Maybe Dylan’s right, I just ignored that sign.
“I should get going,” I say. Pretty bummed now. “Homework time.”
“On a Monday in the summer. Living your best life.” Dylan gets up from the bed and hugs me.
“I’ll call you later.”
“If I’m not talking to Samantha, I will answer.”
Don’t I know it. I really hope I don’t lose my best friend and boyfriend in one summer.
I’m heading out when Dylan calls me back.
“Forgetting something?” Dylan looks at the breakup box. “On purpose? I can handle this if you want. I’ll get a ski mask and some gloves and handle this sumbitch in the dead of night. No one has to know it was us.”
“You need help,” I say. I pick up the breakup box. “I’ll handle it.”
I don’t know yet if I’m lying or not.
I sit at my desk and turn on the laptop. It takes a few minutes to power up because it’s not exactly the newest model, or even the newly old model. Playing The Sims would be way easier if I had an upgraded laptop.
I really should do my homework, but focusing on chemistry was hard enough when I didn’t also have a box beside me with mementos from a relationship that was supposed to be everything and stopped being anything. Sometimes I focus on what went right in the relationship so I don’t get pissed. Like the way Hudson would rest his jaw on my shoulder during our end-of-the-day hugs, almost as if he didn’t want to go home or even step a few feet away from me. And how seen I felt with him, even whenever the brown of his eye was looking elsewhere, because I know he was looking at me. And buddy-reading books with him. And charging my phone in the lightning bolt–shaped power strip so we could stay on FaceTime late into the night.
But that Hudson went away when his parents’ divorce was finalized on April 1 after twenty years of marriage. Hudson swore it was some ridiculous April Fools’ joke from his mother because he’d been counting on them to get back together. Even when his parents announced they were separating and his mother moved out of Brooklyn to Manhattan, Hudson still had hope they would get back together. He had that spirit of some kid in a movie who creates a master plan to get his parents to fall in love again.
Watching a love that he really believed in fall apart wasn’t playing out well for us. We were mega out of sync. There were times he didn’t want me around to comfort him and other times when we would hang out and he would just be a total asshole about love. But there were only so many hits to the heart I could take before I needed to step away. I gave him a lot of chances—I gave us a lot of chances. I just wasn’t good enough to remind him love could be a good thing.
My laptop is good to go. I have to let off some steam before homework, so I open up my self-insert fantasy novel that I’ve been working on since January. It’s the only time I’ve actually honored a New Year’s resolution, and I’m really obsessed with my story. The Wicked Wizard War—TWWW for short—is for my eyes only, but maybe one day I can share it with the world. Or at least Dylan, who’s dying to see the character I modeled after him.
I jump back in where I last left off.
It’s a scene with Hudson’s character and starts off pretty simple. Ben-Jamin and Hudsonien sneak out of Zen Castle late at night and wander into the Dark Woods for a romantic rendezvous. And Ben-Jamin clears the mist with his wind powers, and whoa, a gang of Life Swallowers have suddenly shown up to execute the holy fuck out of Hudsonien. Shame. I go into great detail about the massive guillotine they’re going to use to behead him because I really like to paint a picture, you know. And right when the Life Swallowers drop the blade from its frame, I shut down.
I can’t do it.
I’m not ready to kill off Hudson—Hudsonien.
Or throw away the box.
Maybe we’ll be able to talk things out. Get some closure. Really be friends.
I want to know how he’s doing.
My heart races as I check in on Hudson’s Instagram profile, @HudsonLikeRiver. One hour ago he posted a selfie, and I don’t know why Harriett said he was sick because he looks pretty damn healthy. He’s holding up peace fingers with the caption #MovingOn. It’s really clear which finger he should’ve thrown up instead.
Hudson has to know I unfollowed him. Just like he knows me well enough that I would check his Instagram anyway since his profile isn’t private like mine. But if he’s so ready to move on, he should have no problem showing his face in school.
I wonder if he’s actually moving on though. He said that guy from the party doesn’t live in New York, but maybe they have a long-distance thing going on. I sometimes thought Hudson may have been into Danny from math class, but Hudson swears Danny isn’t his type—too muscular, too obsessed with cars. Maybe it’s someone else completely.
I mean, I can hashtag move on too. The universe definitely wasn’t trying to help me out today, otherwise I’d probably be texting Arthur instead of looking up my ex-boyfriend. But Dylan has really gotten into my head. Playing to the romantic in me. But that was a problem with Hudson. When we broke up, Hudson said my expectations are too huge and that I sometimes dream too far. I don’t get why that’s so bad. Why shouldn’t I want to be with someone who makes me feel worthy? Someone who wants to be with me for the long run?
I don’t know how to find cute strangers in New York. I normally see them once and that’s that. But I spoke to Arthur. I got his name. I click out of Hudson’s profile and type Arthur into the search bar, and what do you know, the universe doesn’t just push the Arthur I met to the top just to make my life easier. I have no clue if Arthur has Instagram, but if he’s like everyone else at school, he’ll post about every detail of his life on Twitter. I type Arthur hot dog tie to see if he’s said anything about his ridiculous tie. Nothing except for a tweet about a hot dog eating contest with some dude named Arthur and a demand for a tiebreaker. I type Arthur Georgia and there’s nothing but randomness, like a girl named Georgia binge-watching every King Arthur movie, and nothing about Post Office Arthur relocating from Georgia for the summer.
Dylan claps. “Okay. I’m sold. I am shipping you with the boy you met when you were supposed to be shipping relationship relics to your last boy.”
I shake my head and put down my controller. “D, no. I’m just a bad idea right now. I need to ship myself with me for a bit.”
“You’re never a bad idea, Big Ben.”
“That’s sweet, man. Thanks.”
“In the not-so-distant future we’re going to have too many drinks, I’ll invite myself over at two a.m., and we’re going to . . . cuddle so hard. And I promise not to call it a bad idea the next morning.”
“You ruined the moment.”
“Sorry. Game face back on,” Dylan says. “You’re being hard on yourself. Just because Hudson is an idiot who took you for granted doesn’t mean the next guy will. And damn, you met a cute guy with bad taste in ties the same day you were moving past your ex. This is a sign.”
I think about how Arthur and I talked about the universe, and he comes back into focus. He’s not like the many cute guys I see out and about in the city where I dream up some epic love only to forget what they look like an hour later. Arthur’s teeth were super white with his canine tooth chipped. Messy brown hair. He was too dressed up for anyone our age; an alien would probably dress up like that if it arrived from another solar system and was trying to pose as an adult but didn’t realize how baby-faced it was. I shouldn’t have run out of the post office when I did. Maybe Dylan’s right, I just ignored that sign.
“I should get going,” I say. Pretty bummed now. “Homework time.”
“On a Monday in the summer. Living your best life.” Dylan gets up from the bed and hugs me.
“I’ll call you later.”
“If I’m not talking to Samantha, I will answer.”
Don’t I know it. I really hope I don’t lose my best friend and boyfriend in one summer.
I’m heading out when Dylan calls me back.
“Forgetting something?” Dylan looks at the breakup box. “On purpose? I can handle this if you want. I’ll get a ski mask and some gloves and handle this sumbitch in the dead of night. No one has to know it was us.”
“You need help,” I say. I pick up the breakup box. “I’ll handle it.”
I don’t know yet if I’m lying or not.
I sit at my desk and turn on the laptop. It takes a few minutes to power up because it’s not exactly the newest model, or even the newly old model. Playing The Sims would be way easier if I had an upgraded laptop.
I really should do my homework, but focusing on chemistry was hard enough when I didn’t also have a box beside me with mementos from a relationship that was supposed to be everything and stopped being anything. Sometimes I focus on what went right in the relationship so I don’t get pissed. Like the way Hudson would rest his jaw on my shoulder during our end-of-the-day hugs, almost as if he didn’t want to go home or even step a few feet away from me. And how seen I felt with him, even whenever the brown of his eye was looking elsewhere, because I know he was looking at me. And buddy-reading books with him. And charging my phone in the lightning bolt–shaped power strip so we could stay on FaceTime late into the night.
But that Hudson went away when his parents’ divorce was finalized on April 1 after twenty years of marriage. Hudson swore it was some ridiculous April Fools’ joke from his mother because he’d been counting on them to get back together. Even when his parents announced they were separating and his mother moved out of Brooklyn to Manhattan, Hudson still had hope they would get back together. He had that spirit of some kid in a movie who creates a master plan to get his parents to fall in love again.
Watching a love that he really believed in fall apart wasn’t playing out well for us. We were mega out of sync. There were times he didn’t want me around to comfort him and other times when we would hang out and he would just be a total asshole about love. But there were only so many hits to the heart I could take before I needed to step away. I gave him a lot of chances—I gave us a lot of chances. I just wasn’t good enough to remind him love could be a good thing.
My laptop is good to go. I have to let off some steam before homework, so I open up my self-insert fantasy novel that I’ve been working on since January. It’s the only time I’ve actually honored a New Year’s resolution, and I’m really obsessed with my story. The Wicked Wizard War—TWWW for short—is for my eyes only, but maybe one day I can share it with the world. Or at least Dylan, who’s dying to see the character I modeled after him.
I jump back in where I last left off.
It’s a scene with Hudson’s character and starts off pretty simple. Ben-Jamin and Hudsonien sneak out of Zen Castle late at night and wander into the Dark Woods for a romantic rendezvous. And Ben-Jamin clears the mist with his wind powers, and whoa, a gang of Life Swallowers have suddenly shown up to execute the holy fuck out of Hudsonien. Shame. I go into great detail about the massive guillotine they’re going to use to behead him because I really like to paint a picture, you know. And right when the Life Swallowers drop the blade from its frame, I shut down.
I can’t do it.
I’m not ready to kill off Hudson—Hudsonien.
Or throw away the box.
Maybe we’ll be able to talk things out. Get some closure. Really be friends.
I want to know how he’s doing.
My heart races as I check in on Hudson’s Instagram profile, @HudsonLikeRiver. One hour ago he posted a selfie, and I don’t know why Harriett said he was sick because he looks pretty damn healthy. He’s holding up peace fingers with the caption #MovingOn. It’s really clear which finger he should’ve thrown up instead.
Hudson has to know I unfollowed him. Just like he knows me well enough that I would check his Instagram anyway since his profile isn’t private like mine. But if he’s so ready to move on, he should have no problem showing his face in school.
I wonder if he’s actually moving on though. He said that guy from the party doesn’t live in New York, but maybe they have a long-distance thing going on. I sometimes thought Hudson may have been into Danny from math class, but Hudson swears Danny isn’t his type—too muscular, too obsessed with cars. Maybe it’s someone else completely.
I mean, I can hashtag move on too. The universe definitely wasn’t trying to help me out today, otherwise I’d probably be texting Arthur instead of looking up my ex-boyfriend. But Dylan has really gotten into my head. Playing to the romantic in me. But that was a problem with Hudson. When we broke up, Hudson said my expectations are too huge and that I sometimes dream too far. I don’t get why that’s so bad. Why shouldn’t I want to be with someone who makes me feel worthy? Someone who wants to be with me for the long run?
I don’t know how to find cute strangers in New York. I normally see them once and that’s that. But I spoke to Arthur. I got his name. I click out of Hudson’s profile and type Arthur into the search bar, and what do you know, the universe doesn’t just push the Arthur I met to the top just to make my life easier. I have no clue if Arthur has Instagram, but if he’s like everyone else at school, he’ll post about every detail of his life on Twitter. I type Arthur hot dog tie to see if he’s said anything about his ridiculous tie. Nothing except for a tweet about a hot dog eating contest with some dude named Arthur and a demand for a tiebreaker. I type Arthur Georgia and there’s nothing but randomness, like a girl named Georgia binge-watching every King Arthur movie, and nothing about Post Office Arthur relocating from Georgia for the summer.
