“Nice doodle.”
Startled by Hunter’s sudden appearance, I nearly poked a hole through the paper with my pencil. Looking over my shoulder, he exhaled a warm breath against my neck, raising goosebumps on the skin.
“Thanks,” I replied coolly, giving him only a quick glance before returning to my drawing. I did my best to ignore him though I knew it was futile.
“Are birds your favorite thing to draw?”
“Not really. This weird one just happened to catch my attention, that’s all. I’m not particularly attached to it or anything.”
“Are you trying to avoid me?” he hummed in my ear, making me realize I hadn’t said ‘hi’ to him.
“What?” I laughed nervously. “Don’t be silly. I’ve just been busy with classes.”
“Are you busy now?”
“I’m busy drawing my picture.”
“Can you draw in a place where it’s a little warmer? Maybe at the cafe? I’ll buy you a latte, my treat.”
I grumbled because I wanted to avoid Hunter and him showing up and asking me to hang out at a cafe didn’t mix. But then I remembered I had a debt to repay him. “Alright, let’s go. I’ll buy though since you got the ice cream last time.”
We went to Huck Cafe. Upon my insistence, I ordered him a latte and he thanked me for the kind gesture. Then I ordered a black coffee for myself. We found a table and sat down across from one another.
Hunter took a long sip of his drink. “Mmm yummy. Want a sip?”
“No thank you, Hunter,” I said politely.
“So, Lorrie—” He looked at me seriously. “—Is it because you stayed over at my place after we watched those movies?”
His direct question caught me off guard. “Uh . . . no.”
He shook his head. “Why are you freaking out about staying over at my place? Just because you stayed over doesn’t mean anything.”
I was prepared to agree with him about me staying over not meaning anything but the “not meaning anything” part upset me, when I knew it shouldn’t.
“Why would you say it doesn’t mean anything? It does mean something. It means we went further than we should have as friends.”
“We didn’t do anything though. I didn’t even kiss you when you fell asleep. Are you saying that having my arm around you is inappropriate?”
I sighed. Hunter didn’t understand the implications of the situation. “When you hang out with Gary, does he fall asleep nestled in your arms after you guys down some beers?”
“What? No! Of course not. That’s different.”
“How is that different?”
“Gary’s a dude. Man Code doesn’t allow that.”
“Okay, well what does Man Code say about falling asleep with girls that are friends?”
“It says it’s acceptable if neither of them are attached to anyone else. Therefore, what we did was acceptable. You might even say normal. Unless . . . you are attached?”
“No, I’m not,” I clarified, hoping Hunter took the cue that I was including my feelings toward him as well.
“Good, then there’s no issue.”
“I hate to tell you this, Hunter, but I don’t abide by Man Code. I abide by Girl Code.”
He lifted one brow. “Alright . . . then what does Girl Code say?”
I took a sip of my black coffee enjoying the sobering bitter taste. “First rule of Girl Code: don’t talk about Girl Code.”
He narrowed his gaze at me. “So you’re already breaking the first rule?”
“I referenced it. I didn’t talk about it.”
He rolled his eyes. Although I’d done that plenty of times to him, it was the first time I saw him do it to me. “I’m pretty sure you referenced Fight Club rather than an actual rule.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, it matters! Dammit, Lorrie. Talk to me. I’m okay with you not telling me some things about yourself but please, don’t avoid me. I told you before, I don’t bite.”
I sighed. “Hunter, this—” I referenced to the space between us. “—is drama I don’t need right now. I have enough problems already. This is what I was concerned about in terms of us becoming ‘friends’ and now it’s come true.”
“Lorrie,” he sighed. “My dick’s not coming out. My lips are keeping to themselves. My hands aren’t roaming. You wanted that, and I’ve been following through. You want me to keep you accountable now? You want me to kick you outta my place when you fall asleep on my couch? You want me to be an asshole?”
“No . . . yes. I mean, no. I can handle myself just fine, Hunter. I just want you to know that us sleeping together last night wasn’t a signal for you to move forward.”
He put his hands up briefly in defense as if I was going for a takedown attempt on him. “Consider it known.”
“It was a mistake on my part,” I added. “And it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.”
“It wasn’t a mistake. Nothing happened beyond sleeping. I haven’t forgotten our ‘friend’—” He put his fingers up and wiggled them to indicate quotes. “—friend agreement. But honestly, I’m a little pissed off you didn’t talk to me about this upfront. Avoiding me is such a drama-queen thing to do. I thought you were different from other girls. Maybe I was wrong.”
“Ugh, I hate to disappoint you, Hunter, but even if I’m cool with watching hockey with you and talking about threesomes, I’m still a girl. I have emotions you know.” I was beginning to see cracks in our friendship and as much as it sucked to consider, I wasn’t sure if we were going to work out. Maybe we didn’t understand each other as well as we’d thought. “If you still want to be friends, you’re just going to have to deal with that fact. Besides, didn’t you say yourself that I was both selfless and selfish?”
He grumbled. “And just because I’m a guy, doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. Just because you see me getting punched in the face doesn’t mean I don’t get upset when you do shit like avoid me. Man, when I woke up and found out you weren’t there, I got worried.”
“Why would you get worried? I told you I had to go to class.”
“That was after I texted you first asking where you went. Even when I made that joke about you forgetting to take my trash with you and you responded with a smiley, I knew you were faking it. You usually respond to my jokes with L-O-L and then some snarky comeback that makes me laugh. I knew you were hiding your true feelings. They don’t call you Lorrie Hide for nothing.”
Hunter knew some of my habits better than even I did. “Only you call me that, Gunther.” I stuck my tongue out at him and he did the same to me.
“I know you have some personal issues you’re dealing with, Lorrie. I don’t know what they are and I haven’t asked you about them because I know you don’t wanna talk about it. I’m fine with that. I got my own issues and I’m more than happy to leave our skeletons in their closets. Just don’t leave me hanging especially since I care about you.”
After a few moments, I realized how poorly I handled the situation and decided to take responsibility. “Alright, fine. I’m sorry for being a bitch to you, Hunter. I care about you as well. I just sort of freaked out and didn’t give you enough credit. I’m actually surprised you’re being so level headed about this.”
His shoulders relaxed and he smiled. “I humbly accept your apology. And I’m sorry for being such a comfortable pillow for your face that I made you fall asleep on me.”
“Apology accepted,” I puffed.
He grinned. “That wasn’t so hard was it? I’m glad that we talked this out and got it resolved. Aren’t you?”
“I suppose so.”
“So are we still friends?”
My lips betrayed a small smile. “Yeah.”
He returned the smile and gently put his palm over my hand. “Am I allowed to put my hand on top of yours?”
“I suppose,” I said, relishing the warmth from his skin more than the warmth from the coffee in my other hand.
“Are you going to stop
blowing me off?” His dark gray eyes were wide and fiercely tender.
How could he attack me with such adorable puppy-dog eyes?
I felt myself becoming immediately disarmed. “I can’t promise anything,” I grumbled, taking a sip of my drink to hide the smile on my face. “But I’ll try.”
“Good enough.”
He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“A flyer. It’s for an art portfolio competition. I saw it hanging up on the student board in the Barnyard and thought about you.”
I took the paper from him, dimly musing about how silly it was for the school to name the main cafeteria as “The Barnyard”. I unfolded the flyer and scanned the details. The winner would get featured in a major art gallery in Chicago and a good chunk of cash.
“Thanks, Hunter. It sounds exciting but I don’t think my stuff is exactly a fit for this kind of competition.”
“What are you talking about? You’re a great artist! Don’t sell yourself short.”
I pointed at one of the example pieces in the flyer. “This is ‘high art’.” I pulled out one of my previous sketches from my backpack and showed it to him. “This is not.”
He looked at the sketch and jolted backward nearly falling out of his chair. “Whoa.”
“See? I told you.”
His eyes narrowed. “No, this is good! Like really good. It’s so realistic. Man the shading and everything. Scared the hell outta me when I saw it.”
I looked at the drawing again. It was a giant fly head with a human body like the one in the movie Hunter and I rented.
“It was just a quick sketch,” I said a little bashfully. I’d never really shown people my sketches before because I didn’t think they were that good. Hunter’s positive reaction surprised me.
“How quick?”
“Like ten minutes.”
“No way you did that in ten minutes. Lorrie, is your real last name Picasso? Is that why you haven’t told me it? Because that’s some serious talent you’ve got there. ”
“If you like it so much, you can keep it. Here.” I handed him the drawing, feeling it to be an appropriate gesture since he’d thought of me when taking the flyer.
His eyes lit up. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Awesome.”
I giggled.
“But really, Lorrie. I think you should enter that competition. Submit your portfolio. Worst that can happen is you don’t win. But you’ll kick yourself if you didn’t at least try.”
Feeling a little excited by Hunter’s encouragement, I looked at the sketch again and found myself having a greater appreciation for it. “Alright, fine. I’ll have to do some more pieces but I’ll enter the competition.”
He grinned. “Sweet. You going to give me a portion of your winnings? Don’t forget I was the one who convinced you and brought you the flyer. Consider it the manager’s cut.”
“How about if I win, I’ll cheer for you at one of your fights?”
His grin became wider. “My very own cheerleader? Even better. I could use the support during my fights.”
“I think you get plenty already.”
“You can never have enough support from ‘friends’.”
“True that.”
He offered his coffee cup out for a toast. “To Snorrie and Gunther. May their friendship be filled with miscommunication and drama.”
“—Or not.” I smirked and met his latte with my black coffee.
Hunter stayed with me in the cafe until we finished our drinks. Then we parted ways to go to our classes.
Chapter Eleven
CURIOSITY
I went out Saturday and picked up some art supplies at the school bookstore. Watercolors, pastels, and some charcoal to go along with the pencils I already had. I was thinking about mixing media by coloring in some of my pencil or charcoal drawings with the paints or pastels. It would take some experimentation, but maybe the results would be portfolio-worthy.
I spent the next few days messing around with coloring in sketches. Thursday came, and I went dutifully to Econ in the morning, then killed some time before my drawing class at one. By the time I got back to my dorm, it was about three. I sprawled out in my bed and started coloring in some sketches I had done between classes in the coffee shop. I was considering whether to use pastels or watercolors on a sketch of a steaming mug of tea when my phone started vibrating on my nightstand. Startled, I got up and picked up my phone.
“Hey Hunter,” I said brightly.
“Hey Lorrie, are you busy?” There was a combination of loud music and men’s voices yelling in the background, so I could barely hear him. I put my hand over my other ear to concentrate on what he was saying.
“I was just working on my portfolio,” I said. “Why? What’s up?”
“Oh cool, you’ll have to show me what you have when it’s ready. Anyway, I was wondering if you could come down to the gym to help me out with something.”
He was being vague and I couldn’t tell why. “What is it?” I asked.
Someone yelled in the background wherever Hunter was, which I was guessing was his gym. “It’s a surprise. Can you come?”
“A surprise? What kind of surprise?”
“A good one, I promise. If you’re too busy it’s okay, but I’d really appreciate it if you came by.”
I thought about it. Tomorrow was Friday and that was pretty much the start of the weekend since I didn’t have any classes other than swimming, and it wasn’t like I was in some super groove on my art. I could spare an hour or two to find out what Hunter’s surprise was.
“Okay, I’ll come by.”
“Great! The gym’s called Bigg’s. I think it’s like a ten or fifteen minute walk from your dorm.”
“I’ll figure it out. Should I just walk in?”
“Yeah there’s a woman at the front desk. Just ask for me and I’ll be right there.”
“Okay, see you in a few.”
“Thanks so much. See you soon.”
He hung up. I opened the maps app on my phone and typed in Bigg’s Gym. Hunter was right: my phone said it would take twelve minutes to walk there. I put on my coat and headed out, curious what he had in store for me.
I had to look at my phone to make sure I was at the right address. The place had darkened windows and no sign I could see. The address above the door matched the one I’d punched into my phone, but this building seemed deserted and the sidewalk was strangely empty.
What is this sketchy place? Should I call him? It would be embarrassing if this was the right address and I didn’t just walk through the door. I cupped my hands above my eyes to block out any other light and pressed my face against the glass of the door. The glass wasn’t just tinted black: it was actually covered. Very sketch.
I stepped back and was considering trying the door when it popped open and caught me flush in the face. My hands shot up to my nose and over my eyes as I stepped back, praying I wasn’t bleeding.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” a woman’s voice said.
My nose was throbbing, but I didn’t feel any blood, so I lowered my hands. “It’s okay,” I said. “Not your fault.” She looked to be in her mid forties and had brightly dyed bottle-blonde hair.
“I heard you outside,” she said, eyeing my face. “Are you here to meet someone?”
I rubbed my nose gingerly, but the pain was already going away. “Is this Bigg’s Gym?”
Her eyes brightened. “It is. Are you here to see Hunter?”
How had she guessed? “Yes, actually.”
She smiled wide. “Oh, good! Come in, I’ll go and get him.”
I stepped inside after her and took a seat in what seemed like a waiting area. There was a desk and a computer where I presumed the receptionist—the women who had hit me in the face with the door—did her work. On the wall behind the desk was a sign that read “Bigg’s Gym: Get Bigggg!!!” in red b
lock letters in front of a cartoonishly muscled guy that would make even Popeye the Sailor Man say “Damn, that’s ridiculous!” To the right of the sign was a large black curtain, behind which I heard the sounds of loud music and leather hitting leather. Old black and white pictures of fighters littered the beige walls around the waiting room. Every picture had the same pose: a shirtless guy with big muscles stood with his right hand in a fist just under his chin and a scowl on his face. I looked for a picture of Hunter, but didn’t see one.
Hunter came through the curtain a moment later, followed by the receptionist. They both wore big smiles. He was shirtless and breathing hard, wearing the same small gloves he had worn when I saw him fight at The Bearded Squirrel. When he exhaled, the hard lines of his six pack popped. The way he was sweating made the muscles in his shoulders and chest even more defined as they glistened under the harsh gym light.
Seeing Hunter half-naked, my heart felt like it was bouncing back and forth between my stomach and my throat. “You look happy with yourself,” I said, my voice high.
He nodded and gestured over his shoulder with his head. “Come on, you’re going to love this. Thanks for letting her in, Kristy.”
Kristy beamed. “My pleasure Hunter.” She took her seat at the desk and watched us as we walked into the gym.
I got up and followed him past the curtain. Punching bags were against the wall to my right, and there were several guys practicing wrestling moves on foam mats. In the back was a ring where two guys wearing red foam helmets were sparring with one another.
“Come on over here,” Hunter said as he led the way through the gym. He gestured to the corner of the gym. “Alright, just back there in the corner. There’s Gary, actually.”
Gary was standing over a large cardboard box and grinning like an idiot. We locked eyes as I approached and he gestured me over before pointing to the box.
“Ok, Lorrie,” Hunter said. “This is what I needed you for.”
I peered down into the box and gasped. There were at least six kittens squirming inside, all in different shades of brown with white patches. They were all cuddled up with each other, some awake, some sleeping, and looked as soft as a cloud. I was unwittingly reminded of the black cat that had scared me and made me fall into Lake Teewee. That was when I met Hunter for the first time.