15. An oven mitt flying through the air

FIFTEEN

AN OVEN MITT FLYING THROUGH THE AIR

HARLOW

The slam of the front door jolts me out of my sleep. I look around the room worried I overslept for class before realizing it’s still dark and definitely not morning. I pick up my phone and the luminosity of 4:00 AM screams at me.

I tiptoe out of bed and crack my door open just the slightest to see Lennon’s light still on. I can’t tell if she just came in or what, but then something catches my eye. The couch is in disarray. Oh, my, Miss Lennon, what have I caught you in?

“Lenny!” I call out. A shadow by the bottom of her door frame freezes and I seize the opportunity to rush across our living room and push open her door.

“Harlow, wait!” she squeals.

Just as I suspected, Lennon is rocking her post hook up look in an oversized tee and very messy hair, but this time, she’s got a huge hickey on her neck to sell her out. She covers her face with her hands before turning and marching towards her bed.

“Oh, don’t pout because you’ve been caught,” I taunt her. “Maybe let your sex-scapade know next time to not let the door slam on his way out.”

She glares at me before crawling under her sheets. “You act like I wanted you to find out.”

It’s not like Lennon and I parade our sex lives— or lack thereof —with each other, but we also don’t keep secrets about it. Over the four years of us attending Everson, Lennon’s dated a few guys but she prefers to keep things casual. We usually give the other some sort of heads up if we plan to have a guy at the house, but for some reason she chose not to, and as much as I’d like to know why, I also know with Lennon not to push.

Her relationship with sex hasn’t always been the healthiest. Being brought up in a strong Italian home meant attending Mass with her Nonna any time it was held. She struggled to understand faith and how it applied in her life as she got older, especially once she got to college. She tried to keep up with Catholicism but it usually just led to her feeling guilty about not knowing what were truly the right choices for her. She enjoyed going out, kissing boys, and having a drink every so often, but whenever she went home to visit, she was met with looming stares from her grandma .

I’m not one to really speak on religion because I understand that it holds huge significance—especially with certain cultures—but I don’t believe that God wants us to be unhappy and miserable. I don’t have it all figured out but I can say for certain with the few Sunday school classes I went to as a kid, we aren’t supposed to judge. I’ve always offered myself as a safe place with Lennon because I could see it weighed on her when we first started at Everson.

I walk over and join her in bed, stroking her long chestnut hair. “I’m just giving you a hard time, Lenny. You don’t have to tell me anything. But, you will have to cover that up tomorrow.” I poke at her neck before getting under the covers with her. “Did you have fun at least?”

Lennon peers up at me with her warm brown eyes before bursting into giggles. “I did.” Then she buries her face into my neck and we curl up into each other in bed. “I’m still waiting with him though to have sex,” she whispers.

My sweet, Lenny. I kiss the top of her head. I admire that she still tries to honor the desires of her family, but it also pains me to know she’s dealing with this internal battle. “Whatever you think is best. You’ll know when it’s right, but even then, you don’t have to.”

“I know,” she says as she reaches over and turns off her bedside lamp. “You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

“Perfect. I wasn’t planning on getting up anyways.” The words come out lazily as I’m already dozing back off to sleep, getting comfortable next to her. “Love you, Lenny.”

“More, Low.”

I stir awake and Lennon is still passed out but on the other half of the bed. I look for her phone to see what time it is but can’t find it so I slowly start getting up. The mattress betrays me and creaks the second I lift off of it and I hear a groan coming from her side.

“Sorry,” I whisper as I make my way back into my room. I pick up my phone and roll my eyes. It’s only 8:00 AM and Beckett has texted me three times, reminding me of my commitment to go with him to formal. I don’t have the emotional bandwidth for him right now, so I toss my phone onto my bed and head into my bathroom.

As I peel off my sleep shirt, I turn around and look at my back. The bruises are faint now. The outline of hands are probably only still noticeable to me, anyone else would likely just see redness.

It’s officially been a week since the date party and I can’t put off swimming any longer. I close my eyes and try to play out any situations in my head that could lead to someone asking questions. What would my response be? I could tell them they’re marks from PT? No, that wouldn’t make sense. I could joke that it was a hookup gone wrong? Also, not believable. Fuck .

Turning on my shower, the thoughts of how to plan my practice accordingly become more pressing as I mull over the reality that the one person who I know will ask questions, will likely be there. Now I really need to think of something to say.

I get out of the shower and put on my typical uniform before heading into the kitchen to make my breakfast. Lennon has wandered out of her room and is now lying face down on the couch.

“Um, everything alright over there?”

She groans loudly and then pulls one of the couch pillows over the back of her head.

“Alright, I’ll take that as a no. Do you want me to make you something to eat?”

Another groan.

“Perfect. I’m making a smoothie and some eggs. Do you want coffee?”

No response.

“Lennon!” I send an oven mitt flying through the air in her direction.

“Hey!” she yells and whips her head out from underneath the pillow. “What was that for?”

I roll my eyes at her and turn back to the fridge, getting the fruit and almond milk for the smoothie. While getting the blender from the cabinet, I feel two arms wrap around my waist and a head lay on my back.

“Do you think I messed up?” Lennon whines.

“No, Lenny, I don’t think you messed up. Why do you think that?” Even though I know the answer, I still ask so we can have this debrief and carry on with our morning.

“I don’t know. What if people find out I was with that guy and it starts something?” She taps her head lightly between my shoulders.

“Well, do you think he’d say something? And, why would that matter?” My suspicions are now raised, but I’m hoping I’ll get answers without having to do research on my own.

“There are just some conflicts of interest, but no, I don’t think he'd talk about us to anyone. It’s just a thought I had when I woke up.” She lets go of my waist then hops up onto the counter next to all the ingredients. Picking up a banana, she starts to peel it and I grab it from her hands and throw it into the blender.

“Hey!” She quips.

“Do you want to elaborate on these conflicts of interest?” Throwing the rest of the ingredients into the blender, I press the lid down and start the machine. With the loud whirring, Lennon starts to mouth words, pretending the blender is drowning out what she’s saying. “Very funny,” I jest.

“No, I don’t want to elaborate, it’s not that big of a deal. I don’t know why I even said anything.” She reaches behind her for the glasses and holds them out to me. I fill them up with our smoothies and she starts drinking hers while I get the eggs going.

She slips into one of the chairs and lays her head down again on the table. We continue in this silent routine of ours while I think about who was possibly in our apartment last night. She’s had flings with Beckett’s fraternity brothers before, so I can’t see that being a problem. There’s really no other circles we share except for the swim team, and there are no new prospects there for her to explore. The only possibility that pops into mind is the best friend of a certain lifeguard in my life.

I look at her again and narrow my eyes, then let out a little hmph before turning back to pick up our plates and set them down on the table. She perks up and looks at me with wide eyes. “What?” she asks.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking.” Sitting down and avoiding her stare, I let the silence linger for a second because I know that it will ultimately push her to keep talking.

“Are you going to tell me? Or am I just supposed to sit here and wonder because you know how that makes me feel.” She pushes around her eggs with her fork.

“Just a certain someone popped into my mind that could have been here, but?—”

She cuts me off, blurting out, “Who!”

The corners of my mouth pull up into a smile and I finally look her dead in the eyes. “Wes?”

A frantic look washes over her and she quickly grabs her smoothie, taking a big sip. “W-why would you think that? We aren’t… We haven’t talked since Tuesday?”

“You know, funny enough, I actually ran into him on Sunday, and he said the exact same thing.”

Her fork drops from her hand. “Wait, he said that? Why didn’t you tell me you saw him? Harlow!”

“He was on his way to meet his sister for coffee and caught me right outside Summit. It wasn’t anything serious, he just asked how I was feeling because he was with you when I texted that I didn’t feel good on Tuesday? Anyways, before I left, I asked him not to tell Shep he saw me, for obvious reasons, but he also asked me not to mention to you that I saw him and that you two don’t talk or something.”

Lennon’s shoulders fall and she looks a little sad. So maybe it wasn’t Wes who was here. She opens her mouth then closes it and tilts her head, letting me know she’s doing some serious thinking about what she wants to say.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t say anything because like he said, and I just said, we haven’t talked since Tuesday and there’s nothing going on between us.” She stands up and walks over to the sink, setting her dishes down, then turns on her heels. “As a matter of fact, I don’t think I could ever see myself with him. What a silly thought.”

I study her demeanor and there’s a certain emotion emanating from her that I can’t decipher, but I think I’ve officially pushed too far so I decide to change the subject to something I know she will gladly talk about—her major.

“Have you finished up your portfolio for your midterm?”

Lennon’s pursuing a marketing degree with an emphasis on social media and content branding. Her dream is to take on some local businesses as clients. She’s already helped with Everson University’s swim team logo and the branding for some of our apparel.

“I know what you’re doing but because I actually have exciting news, I’ll bite. Yes, I just finished it and I sent it over to Boulder and Summit to see if they’d let me do a few sample posts for them on their Instagram pages. I really hope it works out because I’d love to be able to stay in Everson next year and work from home for all these cute little businesses.” She stares off into the distance, her eyes glazing over in a dream-like state.

“That is exciting! Yay! I also have news. I think I’m going to finally swim today.” I awkwardly smile at her and raise my eyebrows playfully.

“Oh goodie! I’m so glad you’re finally feeling better.” She meets me at the table and gives me a hug. “I’ve got to go work on a few other things for today but let me know how your practice goes—hey, that reminds me. Did you see Shep outside of the?—”

“Yes.” I cut her off. “I did and I really wish he wouldn’t just stare at me like that. Beckett really doesn’t appreciate how he keeps trying to insert himself into my life.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was going to say. I mean, I heard you tell him on Tuesday to leave you alone, but it doesn’t seem like he really got the message.”

A loud sigh leaves my mouth. I’m honestly exhausted over the entire situation and Lennon doesn’t even know the half of it. I’m surprised Beckett didn’t say something the other day outside Summit, but I tried to leave before he noticed Shep was watching us. I guess it worked.

I finish up my breakfast and head into my room to pack my bags for the day. I have two classes and then will head straight to the rec center for practice. Once I get everything together I stroll through the living room, giving Lennon a forehead kiss on the way out, and get into my Bronco trying to convince myself I’m ready to swim again and possibly see Shep. The thought makes my stomach flip and my chest tighten at the same time.

I spend my drive to campus thinking about the way he looked at the date party. The all black look really suited him and his eyes were so clear. Why does it always give me chills when he says my name? Plenty of people have said my name but for some reason, when he does, it unravels me. And he thought to check on me? Why do I feel like he genuinely cares about me and my wellbeing?

My music changes to a song by Sleep Token that jars me out of my thoughts and I realize not only have I already made it to campus, but I thought about Shep the entire way. What is happening to me and why do I not mind that he’s occupying my thoughts?

I move through my classes on auto pilot, focusing on getting to the rec and making sure I can swiftly get into the water without risking anyone seeing my back. By the time I get there, I’m thanking my lucky stars because I don’t see a familiar truck in the parking lot. Maybe Shep’s schedule got changed again.

As I make my way into the locker room, I about cry with happiness that nobody else is inside. I quickly change into my suit and then throw my sweatshirt over it, grabbing everything else I need for practice. My plan is to get my cap and goggles in place, then ditch my sweatshirt on the block right before diving in.

I crack open the door to the pool deck and peer around. I still don’t see Shep and I feel like I have a little luck on my side again. Darting over to the lane that’s reserved for me, I get everything in place. This is good. Things are going so well.

Nearing the block, I place my water bottle on the edge and take a deep breath. Now is as good a time as ever. I shed my sweatshirt and turn to toss it to the side and that’s when I hear it—a fucking whistle and a voice I’m starting to recognize all too well yelling very distinctly, “HARLOW SUTHERLAND. MY STAND, NOW.”

I have two options. I could listen, now that everyone in the general vicinity is watching, or I could ignore Shep and dive into the pool. I decide to take my chances and go for option two.

Bad choice.

I finish my first lap and when I come up for air at the end of the lane, two tan muscular legs are standing by the block. I could just keep swimming, but at this point, I’m risking him talking to Pierce now that I know they’ve been in cahoots. Pulling my goggles up, I glare up at him.

“What do you want, Shep?” My tone is icy and I hope he can tell that my patience is wearing thin.

“Get out of the pool, Harlow. Now.” He squats down and meets my stare. My insides do that weird flop again but I decide to test him so I push away from the wall and start to tread the water some.

“Or what?” I smirk thinking I’ve got him, but he leans forward and lowers his voice.

“Or I’m going to call Pierce and tell him that you’ve got bruises on your back that look like handprints, and they better be from some intense PT stretch he’s been doing with you.”

I gulp. How did I know this is exactly what would happen?

“Okay, damn.” I swim toward the edge of the pool and pull my goggles and cap off letting my hair swirl in suspension around me. We meet each other’s stare again and for the first time in my life, the tension with someone feels palpable. Clearing my throat, I put my hands on the edge of the deck hoping he will take the hint and back up so I can get out but instead his hands swiftly go into the water around my sides and pull me up out of the pool.

A small yelp escapes my lips as he sets me down on the pool deck and tosses me my sweatshirt. “Put that back on and follow me.” The stern voice he’s using is having the opposite effect on me. Instead of feeling frightened, my stomach is knotting up and I can feel heat rushing to my cheeks.

“Shep,” I whisper, “this really isn’t necessary.”

He takes a step closer to me, our bodies almost flush with one another. “I’m not asking, Harlow. Let’s go.”