6. Henry

Issue 2 of “Hopeless Henry”

By Alice Bennet

Taken from the University Gazette

College was different than I thought it’d be. Harder in some ways; easier in others. One thing I seriously needed to learn was time management.

As I stepped from the history department building, my head spun with everything I needed to get done. My professor had just reminded us of midterms coming up and an essay that was due next week. Then I had another paper in my English class to finish, a group project to work on in sociology, and a big lab assignment to start in chemistry, not to mention we had a parade to practice for in band, and another home game to perform at this weekend, and—

Well, let’s just say I had no idea when I was going to get everything done. That pretty much summed it up.

Turning down a sidewalk that led toward the cafeteria, I swung my book bag over one shoulder just as Rush appeared at my side.

“Henry, my man,” he greeted, bumping his shoulder companionably into mine. “So, I’ve been thinking. Would wearing a suit to your family’s Thanksgiving dinner be too much, or would it score major brownie points with your mom and make me look like a nice kid to her?”

I glanced at him and frowned before answering, “Thanksgiving’s over a month away.”

“I know. But I want to be prepared for this. I never spent a holiday with a real family before. I want to do it right.”

I blew out a breath, trying not to let that affect me, but hell, Rush had a way of making me feel awful for him. Growing up in the system, he’d never experienced shit most kids took for granted. Like holidays. So, I’d already told him he’d be spending every holiday with my family from now on.

I’d had no idea the mere invitation would possess him so thoroughly, though.

“Just wear what you normally wear,” I advised on an offhanded shrug. “Like what you have on now would be fine.”

“But—”

I lifted a hand. “Seriously, man. My mom’s going to learn you’re a nice kid just from your personality when she meets you, and nothing you wear is going to bias that. Besides, we’re not the black-tie-affair kind of family. You’ll just stick out like a sore thumb if you suit up.”

“Oh,” he said, nodding and soaking in my answer. “Alright, then. Great. What about flowers? And flirting? Would your mom think it’s cute or creepy if I flirt?”

“Please, God. Do not flirt with me.”

Rush snorted and shoved my arm. “Ha-ha, you’re so funny. But I’m not talking about you, moron. I’m talking about your mother. Should I flirt with her? I saw that on a movie once and it worked like a charm.”

“Well, I would find it creepy,” I said.

He rolled his eyes. “As if I care what you think. What would she like?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled. “She’d probably laugh, and blush, and call you sweet, I guess.”

“Cool. I’m totally flirting with her, then.”

I shook my head. “You’re such a weirdo.”

Rush shot a cutting remark back at me, but I suddenly didn’t hear him.

Slowing to a stop when I saw her ahead, sitting on a bench and talking to some girl I’d never seen before, I stared in wonder.

My dream girl. She was right there.

And just like that, everything I’d been stressing about went silent in my head, all anxiety drained from my limbs, and the air that entered my lungs seemed fresh and crisp with the scent of promise and approaching autumn.

God, she was pretty.

“Hey, I know that chick,” Rush said. Or at least, I think that’s what he said. I wasn’t really focusing on him, until he added, “The one talking to your girl.”

My girl. I glanced at him, blinking. “What?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, he tugged his phone from his pocket and pulled up a social media app. “Blair Rodgers. She’s in my speech class; we’re friends on Facebook. I bet if we look her up, she’ll be connected to your lady too, and we can finally learn mystery girl’s name. Huh?”

But as soon as he started typing, I lifted my hand. “No! Don’t.”

“What?” Wrinkling his nose, he scowled at me. “Why not? Don’t you want to know her name?”

More than anything in the world.

“Not this way,” I told him. “This feels…stalkerish.”

“Oh, and staring at her all the time from across a room isn’t?” He rolled his eyes and went back to searching.

“It is,” I agreed, wincing. “But if I can’t grow the balls to walk up to her and just talk to her, then I don’t deserve to learn anything about her. Don’t you think? I refuse to be any creepier than I’m already being about this.”

“Alright, then,” Rush said, nodding his approval. “Great. So go talk to her and learn her fucking name already.”

When he shoved me forward, I jarred to a halt and turned right back to him. “Except I can’t.” Shaking my head, I adamantly searched his gaze for understanding.

Which he didn’t possess.

Throwing back his head, he groaned long and loud. “Oh my God. You are driving me crazy with this shit. Fine.” Gripping the air with his hands as if pretending to strangle me, he muttered, “I give up. You’re hopeless. You’re absolutely fucking hopeless, Henry. Talk to her, don’t talk to her, I don’t give a fuck anymore. I’m out.”

And he stalked off, only to lift his phone and call over his shoulder. “And for your information, I just learned her name.”

Oh shit. He knew her name?

Biting back the urge to chase after him and beg for it, I watched him storm away and then sighed over my own ineptness. Damn, I was such a failure. He’d been trying to coach me into approaching her for weeks now, ever since that first disaster where she had run into me and I almost passed out on her. But I’d resisted all efforts on his part to try again.

I continued to daydream about her, though. And my friends in band were growing tired of hearing me blather on as if she were the center of the universe. But I kept my distance, even as I sometimes stayed up late, thinking of ways to simply say hi. I was just too scared of more failure.

Rush was right; I was hopeless.

My gaze crawled back to her, and my chest filled with achy regret. I knew I was a mess. But I didn’t care. I was almost just as content adoring her from afar, knowing nothing about her, as I was wishing I could approach her and learn everything, because this way…this way was safe. Plus she could remain my flawless dream if I never approached her.

And flawless she was as a beautiful unknown. I could concoct any perfect life for her that I wanted. Which I did. A lot.

It was a bonus treat to get to see her out of the classroom. This would give me more to daydream about. She looked different out here in the open air, sitting among the orange and red fallen leaves that sprinkled the ground around the bench where she sat.

Nature suited her. The sunlight beamed down on her as if proud to serve such a blessed mortal. The warm autumn colors complemented her blonde hair. And the breeze teased those very locks, playing with the light curling strands like a lover delighting in its conquest.

Oh, to be the wind or the sun just now. Lucky bastards got to ply her with all their attention, openly and boldly, no fetters or insecurities or fears holding them back.

Jealousy clawed at my abdomen as I wished I weren’t so constrained.

Then my heart leaped into my throat when the two ladies on the bench stood with the approach of another—some guy who smiled as if he knew them, as if he belonged.

Fuck, she was taken, wasn’t she? She already had a—

But the man bypassed her and went to her friend, where the two hugged and kissed. With his arm around the friend, he turned to my dream girl and said something to make her smile and laugh. Her friend tipped her head to the side so she could rest her cheek on the guy’s shoulder, and he swung her away so they could leave together, abandoning my dream girl there in front of the bench by herself.

She watched them depart, and I swear her smile grew sad—or maybe contemplative—before she turned away and gathered her things.

It made me wonder why she’d stared after them like that. Did she resent the guy for stealing her friend away? Or maybe she had a crush on him herself.

God, I hoped not.

Then she turned away from them and glanced around as if trying to decide where to go next. But her gaze caught on another couple cuddled together on a blanket in the grass before it strayed to yet another pair of lovebirds as they walked past her hand in hand.

Her shoulders slumped and expression went wistful until suddenly I understood. She was lonely. She just wanted what they had, her own person, a companion with which to share everything.

I could be that person, the deeply buried, hopeful place inside me howled. I could walk with her through the courtyard and listen to her detail her day. I could sit with her in the grass and battle with the breeze for the right to touch her hair. I could love her like she seemed to want. I just knew I could.

And yet, approaching her to find out if we were compatible or she’d even be willing to accept my adoration was impossible. I was a coward. Nothing seemed more fatal than receiving a rejection from the girl who possessed so many of my thoughts. So I couldn’t bring myself to give her even the chance to reject me.

Realizing I’d been standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring way too long, I bowed my head, cleared my throat, and turned in a different direction. But not a moment later, I heard a call.

“Henry! Yo, Henry. Wait up.”

I glanced over to find Reuben, a fellow trumpet player in the band, jogging toward me.

Tipping my chin up in greeting, I stopped and waited. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing.” Out of breath by the time he reached me, he readjusted the straps of his backpack and flashed me a wide smile. “So did you hear about the tryouts?”

I nodded. “Yep.” Rush had been right; the director was looking for someone to fill Baxter’s position as the trumpet section leader. He’d tacked up a poster, announcing tryouts just this morning. Three people had already texted me about it to make sure I knew.

Reuben scowled with impatience. “Well,” he demanded, waving a hand as if to hurry me along. “Are you trying out or not?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Can’t hurt to try, anyway, right?”

Shoulders slumping in disappointment, Reuben took a moment to appear forlorn before he nodded and mumbled, “Sure.”

“What about you?” I bumped him in the shoulder in an effort to cheer him up from whatever had bummed him out. “You going to try for it too?”

“Was thinking about it,” he said, focusing on the toe of his shoe as he kicked at a leaf on the ground.

“You totally should,” I said.

He looked up and blinked as if shocked by my encouragement. “Really? You think I actually have a shot?”

“Well, yeah,” I told him. “We all do. And besides, you won’t know unless you try. So we both might as well give it a go, huh?”

“Eh, I suppose,” he grumbled, his buoyancy seeming to slip again.

I was about to tell him how much I had liked the song he’d played in practice yesterday, during the impromptu exercise, just to help boost his confidence.

But a pair of girls walked by, and he instantly forgot about me, focusing on them, as he whistled and called, “Hey, ladies. You two look fantastic today.”

They both smiled and waved back, greeting him by name, which let me realize they all knew each other.

Abandoning me, he skipped after them, grinning when they paused to let him catch up. Then he hooked an arm around each of their waists and said something to them that had them giggling.

He must’ve realized I continued to watch him because he glanced at me and smirked before nodding to me in farewell.

I waved until he turned away, only to sigh sadly, wishing I could have his charm with the opposite sex. I’d be able to approach my dream girl then, no problem.

In fact, I’d gladly trade his self-confidence in that department for what I had in playing the trumpet since he seemed to lack it there.

Honestly, it seemed like an excellent trade to me.

Too bad such things weren’t possible, otherwise, I would’ve been severely tempted to offer him the deal of a lifetime.

I would’ve given anything just for the guts to approach my blonde goddess and simply ask for her name.

Yeah, if only…

Because if Reuben and I had merely traded our talents, then maybe what happened next never would’ve happened at all.