Page 22

Hartley

I think I died and went to heaven. That or an out of body experience.

Maybe this is a dream. I slap my cheek harder than intended to confirm that this is in fact not a dream.

I throw my fists in the air and pump up and down, unable to control my excitement.

Class ended five minutes ago and everyone else is long gone, but I’m glued to my seat staring at the results of the art history quiz I submitted.

“Mr. Knox.” My professor startles me out of the moment I was having. “You’re acting erratic and my next class starts in five minutes. Would you please leave for the day?”

“Sure. Yes. Absolutely!” I scream across the empty classroom as I slam my laptop shut and stuff it in my bag. I’m on top of the world, and there’s only one person I want to talk to.

Me: Switch your major to education.

Goldie: How did it go?!

Me: You’re looking at a C student.

Goldie: What?! That’s amazing!!

Goldie: How are we celebrating?

Me: You. Me. Hot Wings.

Goldie: OOOOOO love it. Your place?

Me: I’ll be back soon. Come over whenever.

I lock my phone with a sense of relief and a weight lifted off my chest. My worries are a little lighter for the first time in weeks.

You did it. It’s just one quiz, but I’m used to failure in the classroom.

This quiz gives me a sense of hope that I can juggle both school and football.

I owe Liza more than just hot wings. She executed the perfect study plan, and I pray she stays around to help me out for the rest of the year.

I take the trek to upperclassman parking, hop in my car, and speed home to clean up a bit before she gets to the apartment.

I’ve never cared about what my place looks like to girls, but I have an overwhelming urge to impress Liza.

“Vi!” My booming shout echoes through the empty apartment.

Phew. By the lack of response and absence of tapping feet on the wooden floors, I think it’s safe to say that Violet’s not here.

She’s been spending more time with Ryan, and I’m happy if she’s happy, especially if he gives her an outlet for all of her pent up anxiety she holds within herself.

A part of me still sees her as a naive girl who needs fierce protection from the world.

The promise I made to her grandpa is tattooed in my brain forever, so I can’t get comfortable with her new relationship this quickly.

Whisked away by my thoughts, a vibration hits my thighs. I reach into my pocket to grab my phone.

Group Message: Offensive Legends

Mason: Downtown Tap tonight at 10.

Ryan: pass

Me: Can’t. I have a date.

Ryan: Seriously?

Mason: Don’t tell me. . .

Me: None of you all’s business. I won’t be out though.

Mason: Loserrrrrrr

Ryan: Why am I in this group message again?

I would skip a night out at the bar to spend a minute with Liza any day of the week.

Shaking my thoughts away for the time being, I run the vacuum over our shaggy rug harboring snack crumbs in its fur.

After it looks good enough, I move to the kitchen to tie the full garbage and replace it with a new bag, but before I take the garbage to the can downstairs, I remember all the empty water bottles Violet’s been complaining about.

I scoop five bottles with only drops left and toss them in the fresh garbage bag.

I nod my head in acceptance at this rush clean. Gold star for me.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Knocks rattle the apartment door, hopefully, announcing Liza’s arrival. Sliding my socks on the hardwood floor, I stop in front of the door to let her in.

“Hey!” She greets me with that radiant look and a small wave that cracks my heart wide open and allows light to pour in.

Her arms are covered with plastic grocery bags full of items. She rocks back and forth on her feet in excitement before she drops the bags on the ground and squeals.

“I can’t wait any longer.” My ball of sunshine leaps into my arms, and I spin her around twice, inhaling the sweet cinnamon scent of her damp hair.

I allow my hand to travel down to the small of her back as I lower her down to the floor.

She locks in on my eyes and tilts her head slightly to the side.

Her hands still looped around my neck. “I’m so stinkin’ proud of you! ”

“This was all you, Goldie.” My cheeks flame. Well, that’s new. My hands travel from her back to her hips. I squeeze before dropping them to my side. Her hands drop shortly after. “What’s all this?” I peer around her at the grocery bags piled up at the door.

“Oh, you know, just a mega surprise.” Liza spins around, picks up the bags, and goes to the kitchen to place them on the counter space. “Come see.”

I follow her lead into the kitchen as she unloads the items. First, she takes out two packs of crescent rolls. Then, she takes out a giant bag of powdered sugar. Finally, she removes a gigantic bottle of Hershey’s chocolate syrup.

Her hands fly out in a grand gesture. “I present to you, drumroll please.” I take that as my cue to pound the counter with my fist to give her the drama she wants for the moment. “The world’s best ingredients to make homemade beignets!”

“Beignets?!” I gasp and fly around the counter to be by her side. I drop down to one knee. “Will you marry me?”

She giggles and swats my hand away before I get any crazy ideas like actually marrying her. I probably would do it.

“Seriously, I wanted to do something special for you. You killed that test.”

I don’t take compliments well, so I deflect with a joke. “The stupid football player finally earned a passing grade. It’s a story for the ages.” I flip my hat backward and turn away to hide my emotions, but a cold hand grabs my wrist before I can make the full turn.

“You’re not stupid.” She levels me with furrowed brows and a frown. All hints of playfulness are long gone. “When we say those things about ourselves, we start to believe they’re true.”

I have no verbal response for the heated sensation in my chest and my elevated heart rate.

Liza makes me feel like I’m something more than just a NCAA figurehead.

She sees me for more than the jokester who causes trouble to get a rise out of people and deflect from my shortcomings.

She sees past the exterior to who I really am, and that terrifies me.

She must notice that I’m pale as a ghost, so she grabs my hand and rubs it tenderly.

“Come on. I’m teaching you how to make these.”

“The New Orleans girl brings beignets to Florida.”

“Someone has to.”

If I thought academic Liza was a vision, kitchen Liza is downright torturous. I’ve had to watch her lick the excess ingredients off her fingers after each step. The fact that I haven’t groaned at the sight should earn some type of award.

“If beignets are this easy to make, why don’t more places serve them?” I question as I help her lift the first batch of rolled crescents out of the fryer oil.

“This is the shortcut way to make them.” She continues her methodical steps without missing a beat. “The real secret lies within the walls of Cafe Du Monde.”

“You’ll have to bring me one day.” Ripping open the bag of powdered sugar, I carefully hand the goods over to Liza, because, according to her, there’s a right and wrong way to apply the powdered sugar.

“Watch and learn.” She grabs a pinch of powdered sugar from the bag. “It’s a sprinkle, not a douse.”

Following her lead, I pinch some of my own and help her finish off this batch.

“Now we let them cool for a minute or two before digging in.” She admires the fluffy goodness in awe.

“You’ve got a little something.” My hand reaches to the corner of her mouth to wipe away a speck of rogue sugar that landed too close to her plump lips.

She lets out a small gasp, barely audible if I wasn’t so close.

Her eyes never leave mine, and her body doesn’t flinch.

Once the sugar is wiped away, I bring my thumb to my mouth and lick off the sweetness that was just planted on her face.

“Tastes sweeter for some reason.” I shoot her my dimpled smile.

“That’s the brand,” she whispers out. “It’s sweeter than most they sell here.”

“Nah.” I shake my head in disagreement. “It’s you.”