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There was something about Ava.
Something about the way she dressed, like she'd planned her outfit a week in advance. Or the manner in which she flipped her coconut-scented blonde hair. Even the poised way she stood with a hand on her hip while waiting for me so we could sit down in the front row together. And her honey vanilla perfume...
I knew her once. I had to have known her. From the day we met, she felt familiar, and I couldn't figure out why. It was like an itch that I couldn't scratch.
She had a unique glint in her eyes when she spoke about something intriguing. Or when she was staring at Dr. Larsen.
"He is so... hot."
I snickered at her not-so-subtle comment and leaned toward her. "Ava, you really gotta pass this semester." I stared at Dr. Larsen's rich, soulful eyes. "Stop failing just to be in his class... Even if he does look like a Greek god."
"I know! Class started two minutes ago, and I've already had five mini-orgasms." She glanced my way, sucking on a lollipop that had stained her tongue blue. "What's that?"
"Hm?"
She gestured at the book on my desk.
"Oh. It's called A Frozen Heartbeat. Someone recommended it to me." That someone being our teacher. Of course, I didn't need to have it sitting on my desk where he could clearly see it. Maybe deep down, I wanted him to.
"Cool, what's it about?"
"I haven't started reading yet, but I was told it was good."
"Romance?" she guessed, wiggling her eyebrows.
I smiled. "Mhm."
Class ended way too soon. Again. It was strangely depressing. I closed my notebook and put it inside of my backpack as the class cleared out. Ava said she'd see me later, then rushed out of sight. I swung my bag over my shoulder and contemplated the bold move I was about to make.
I wiped my hands on my jeans and walked to the teacher's podium.
"Do you have a moment?" I asked.
His shoulders jumped a little before he turned. "Oh, Casper," he chuckled.
My cheeks flushed. Oops. "Sorry."
"You're fine." He sent me a tiny smile as his thumb and first finger grasped the edge of his glasses, pulling them off. "And yes, I've got a moment."
I played with the strap of my backpack, trying to steady my thoughts. "Umm, this is gonna sound strange, but... along with teaching, are you a counseling psychologist as well?"
"Actually, yes. Although I'm focused on educating for now, I was a therapist for several years." He lowered his chin, looking into my eyes in concern. "May I ask, are you trying to find a therapist?"
"Well, I... I just want someone to talk to that isn't a friend, I guess. Someone who could give me advice." I shook my head quickly. "Seriously, it's okay. I-I didn't mean to, um—it's nothing." I stepped back, cursing myself for rambling.
"No worries." He was calm, and I felt the tension in my shoulders relax. "My office hours, email, and work number are all listed in the syllabus. If you truly need help, I'll try my very best."
"Thank you. I used to go to therapy. Sometimes I feel like I still need it."
His lips curved up. "Don't we all?"
"Yeah, I know. There's also this other thing... I was reading the syllabus and I noticed a research opportunity."
"Ah, yes. I spoke about that on the first day of class."
"Oh. I'm sorry, I was probably distracted." I could confirm that, yes, I was indeed very distracted by him that day.
"Well, it's worth ten points so it can bump you up an entire letter grade. It also looks very good for future job applications. Honestly, I thought a lot of students would fight for the opportunity since it's competitive. There are only two slots. As it turns out, you're the first to come to me about it."
Naturally.
"Wow. I mean, I'd love to be considered."
"I'll put in a good word for you."
"Alright. Thanks again."
He gave me the most perfect smile I'd ever seen, so now I definitely had to go. A part of me felt like he must've known the effect he had on me, and on everybody who had the privilege of speaking to him.
I pointed behind me. "I should go..."
"Right. Enjoy the rest of your day, Casper."
"Me too. I mean— You too."
He laughed quietly to himself as heat spread to the tips of my ears. I dashed out the room, saving myself from further embarrassment.
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"Alright. Here's the fun part. Pick a username."
Lucas tapped the Instagram handle box and the keyboard leaped up on the screen.
"Just my name," I responded. "Right?"
"Uh, yeah. Sure."
"Why? What's yours?"
A naughty smirk spread across his face. "TwinkieLuc."
"I'm not even gonna ask."
"Fine, we'll use your name. Casper... underscore Niely... okay! Now you create a password and you're all set. Ooh- follow me!"
I chose a password then we followed each other's accounts.
"You should upload a profile picture. And post one to your feed!"
"Do I have to? It's not a dating app."
"It can be." He winked. "But yes! You're gorgeous; don't hide it."
"O-okay."
"You'll thank me later. And now you get to stalk to your heart's content."
He wasn't wrong. After he left, I spent two hours scrolling and tapping and swiping. Some of that time was dedicated to pathetically ogling the pictures on my roommate's page. When I was using my little brother's account– before Nash and I met– I'd only grazed the surface of his page. This time around? I took my sweet time.
Honestly, with every picture or video, I just found him that much hotter. His content alone made me want to be his friend, and here we were sharing a room. I'd never been so lucky.
I eventually found Ava and followed her. She had over four thousand posts, so trying to scroll to her past was a challenge. Mostly, I wanted to dig up some clues that we had known each other once upon a time, but my efforts were fruitless.
Then, I searched for Dr. Larsen. I had to. I couldn't stop myself if I tried. His page was tame, with only six posts. The most recent one was from the beginning of the year. Another post was him shaking hands with someone that looked important. Maybe at a conference of some kind. In another, he stood handsomely in an expensive suit.
But his very oldest post...
It was him and a man, arm in arm, grinning cheerfully at the camera. He was younger in this image, but not by too much. The two men leaned against each other with slightly tilted heads. I checked the caption, and it said prince. Prince? Okay... was that the other man's name?
Well, said Prince had a luxurious ring on one of his fingers.
I tilted my head to one side. Was Dr. Larsen engaged? Judging by the date of the post, they'd be married by now.
I exited out of the app, resting my phone on my chest as I stared up at the ceiling. I'd been fed so much visual information, and I didn't know what to do with any of it. Now, I had a lot more questions than I did before.
While looking up, I saw the book that Dr. Larsen gave me peeking out from the shelf above my bed. I sat up and reached for it.
A Frozen Heartbeat.
I flipped it open to the first page. I was more than eager to lose myself in a new world. This world in particular was the mystical kingdom of Mooncliffe.
The main character was non-binary, identifying as they and them. It was refreshing. I'd never been inside the mind of a non-binary character. Their given name was Dmitri, and they'd been assigned male at birth. As the heir, Dmitri possessed the power of the moon.
Whatever that meant.
I didn't get too far. My phone's ringtone blared, interrupting my reading. I swiped to the green accept button and tapped the speaker.
"Cas! Come hooome! Please."
"Don't be so dramatic, Dawson."
"I'm not! You're lucky you're older; you don't have to be stuck with Mom nagging you every day. Come back! I miss you."
I shook my head. "I'm barely any fun. I wasn't expecting you to notice my absence."
"Seriously? I noticed your absence before you even left! You're my best friend."
I smiled. For all my lamenting about not having a taste of friendship, I had a true friend in my brother this entire time.
"You're my best friend too, D. Always. I'll visit soon, I promise. And you can vent to me anytime."
"Oh, I will! I'm glad I called... you never talk this much." He laughed. "Maybe college isn't so useless after all."
Nash walked in, holding a new, rolled-up poster.
"D, I'll call you later okay?"
"Okay. Bye."
I hung up the phone as Nash tossed his backpack onto his bed.
"Got ya something," he told me, holding the poster out to me.
"Really?" I narrowed my eyes, accepting it. Ardently, I opened the wrapper and unraveled it. My eyebrows shot up. "Oh!"
"Oh?" Nash repeated. "So you hate it."
"What? No, of course not. I'm grateful."
"It's the anatomy of the brain. Because... you know... you wanna be a neurosurgeon." He scratched the back of his head, eyes flitting away. "An anatomy poster. Who does that?"
"Nash, seriously, I love it. And it comes in handy. I'll hang it up." I got to my feet and tacked it up near my desk. "Thank you."
"Yeah, you're welcome."
I moved back to my bed. "Hey, can I ask you something?" I asked.
He sat down on his own bed in a relaxed position. "Sure."
"How long have you known Ava?"
"Since high school started. Why?"
"I dunno. She just seems familiar to me. I thought maybe I met her somewhere before."
"And you think that has something to do with how long I've known her?"
"No. Yes? I'm just trying to figure her out."
Nash grinned. "Playing detective. I've rubbed off on you, huh?"
I rolled my eyes facetiously. Nash grabbed his football and tossed it into the air.
"Look, maybe she just reminds you of someone."
"No. You know how like... when you smell something, it sort of takes you back in time? That's how it is when she's around."
"Hm. What are the odds that my roommate and my best friend shared a past?"
"And that's the thing. Did we share a past? Was it just a fleeting moment? Or maybe it's all in my head? I don't actually know."
"Next, you'll say my ex was your crush in middle school or something." He started to laugh then stopped abruptly, pointing at me. "That better not be the case."
"No, you're fine. I've never liked anyone named Trey."
"Who have you liked then?"
My face turned grim. "That's a story for another day."
"Damn, my bad." He caught his ball for the last time, setting it down beside him. "Let's play a game."
"O... kay..."
"I know it's random. But I have questions I wanna ask you, and it's only fair that you get to ask some too."
"So like twenty-one questions?"
"Exactly. Sucks, we don't have drinks. Anyway, we'll take turns. We have to answer honestly but no pressure if you don't want to."
"And it stays between us. No matter what," I amended.
"Deal."
I sat up taller. "You first."
"Okay. You didn't say anything to me for like an entire week when we met. I mean, you explained why so I understand now. But what was your first impression of me?"
I sighed. "I can't lie, right?"
"Wow. That bad?"
I laughed. "No, no. It's nothing bad. It's just that I was so worried about your impression of me, you know? 'Does he hate me? Does he wish I were anybody else?' Then I just thought you were... mean."
"I can be an asshole sometimes. Sorry."
"No, it's fine. I'm not mad about it. Anyway– my turn?"
He nodded. "Floor's yours."
"I don't even know what to ask."
"I've got an idea." He opened his phone. "I'm gonna search up questions."
"Wait, that's smart." I grabbed my phone and did the same, scrolling through the first list I stumbled on. "Ooh– okay. I got a good one. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?"
He hissed, mulling over the question. "Yikes."
I was surprised he even had an answer. What could the seemingly perfect and popular jock possibly be insecure about?
"I'd say, sometimes I'm a hot mess. I drink my emotions and I screw up any good thing that comes my way. I'd change that about myself in a heartbeat. I wish I could be more put together. I wish I had life figured out."
"No one at our age has anything figured out, let alone life. I should take my own advice but... be fair to yourself. Be patient with yourself."
"Thanks." He gazed at his phone, a mischievous smile on his face. Oh, he was plotting something, wasn't he?
"Don't worry, I'll go easy on you. What's more important– family or friends?"
"Family." I didn't hesitate. I'd made it this far without the latter, anyway. "Because it can include your birth family and chosen family."
"That was too easy. Your turn."
I hunted through the list on my phone. "What's one thing your parents don't understand about you?"
"Oh wow. Umm..." He rubbed his lips together, staring at nothing in particular. "Shit, a lot of things actually. I guess the most obvious one would be that they don't understand why I'm not straight." He shrugged. "I mean, they're cool about it on the surface. But it's like... okay, our son only played with trucks and action figures, his favorite color's blue, he's athletic, he plays football and video games, he's only ever seen depictions of straight romance on TV. And ya can't forget, he was raised in the church. So how in the world..." Nash looked away, shaking his head. "How in the world is his first love another guy? For them, it just didn't add up."
"I'm sorry."
"Nah, it's okay. They're great parents. They love me and they're on my side. I know that. It just seems like they ask themselves what went wrong, or where did they fuck up? When instead, they should be patting themselves on the back. Know what I mean?"
I glanced down. "Yeah. Thanks for answering honestly."
"Of course. Alright, I've been wanting to ask this one. What's your idea of a perfect date?"
I bit the inside of my cheek while Nash tried to fight his smile. Was that the only reason he wanted to play this little game? I almost laughed.
"What's so funny? It's a valid question."
My body tensed up. "You're not subtle."
"I know. But you gotta tell me, for my records." He leaned forward, awaiting my answer. I suddenly lost the ability to maintain eye contact with him.
"Well... I don't know. A perfect date is something meaningful."
"Oh, c'mon. You have to give me more to go on."
"It's not like I've ever been on a date before."
"Maybe not in reality, but you've had to have imagined it. You've read every romance book ever published."
My eyes searched his face. I wondered what he'd do with my answer, especially since he'd asked me to dinner yesterday. Speaking of which...
"I know that I don't want a fancy dinner. It feels like a lot of pressure, and I don't talk much anyway so it would be awkward. As for what I do want... you're right; I've imagined it. Candlelight picnic by a lake, with a sunset and fresh, autumn breeze. Nothing but green grass and trees for miles. That, or a lantern festival, so I can have my Rapunzel moment."
Nash nodded enthusiastically. "I like it. And I'll, uh, keep it in mind."
My cheeks heated up and I almost lost myself in the idea of him taking me to a picnic date. I cleared my throat and snapped out of it. I didn't need to look at the list on my phone for my next question. "Do you believe in love? Like, true love?"
To his credit, he actually contemplated it. "Have I experienced it? Definitely not, but it has to be out there, so... my answer's yes. I think it exists. Do you?"
I rubbed my lips, looking away from him. "I don't know anymore. I used to. It was all I could think about." I looked back at him, and his eyes implored me to share more. "I've had a few crushes. Nothing too intense, but they each let me down in their own ways. And I'm not stupid. I know I'm young. I know I have plenty of time to figure life out, but that's not even the issue." I gazed down at my hands, tracing the patterns on my blanket. "What if I'm not worth it? No one wants to spend a lifetime with someone who barely speaks, someone with low self esteem, someone who hides within themselves. That's all I am. That's all I have to offer."
"Casper..." Nash stood up, crossing the room to my bed. He sat down next to me, and I stared at him in wonder. He took my hand, squeezing it. "You suffered an accident and became mute. Then somewhere along the line, you started to speak again. It took time, but you got there. You can still go further. Be fair to yourself. Be patient with yourself."
I smiled, recognizing those words from a few minutes ago. "Told you I should take my own advice."
"You should because it's solid." He squeezed my hand again. "Hey. I'm in your corner," he promised.
I laid my head on his shoulder, nothing short of grateful. "And I'm in yours."
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