Chapter Five
Hannah
“Why are you smiling like a crazy person, Hannah?”
I jump and drop my phone in mid-reply. “What? Nothing. I was just sending a text.”
Jasmine crosses her arms over her chest and stares me down. “Texting your dad? Your friend Samantha back home?”
I roll my eyes. “I was texting Ben.”
“Bookstore Ben?” She grins. “You guys are texting now? When did it escalate to texting?”
“This past weekend. He gave me his number.”
“Ooooh, this sounds good.”
“Not like that. He gave me another book to read and wanted me to text him when I got to a certain part to tell him what I thought. We’ve been texting about the book since then. That’s all.”
“Well, okay then.”
I should ask Jasmine for advice about Ben. I’m so out of my depth with him. I like him. I really like him. I’m more excited talking to Ben about a book than I ever felt with Scott, my boyfriend for most of senior year.
Scott was nice, but during the first week here at Arlington State, a bunch of girls on our floor got drunk, and everybody shared how far they’d gone and with how many guys. When they got to me, for just a split second, I forgot I’d lost my virginity to Scott. I’m pretty sure that’s not how it’s supposed to be. There’s something better out there, and I want to find it. Now I think I know who I want to find it with.
“Is that good?” I blurt out. “That he wanted me to text him?”
“It’s not bad. It’d be better if he was calling you to go out, but it could be worse. He hasn’t texted you pictures of his junk or anything, right?” She cranes her neck to look at my phone.
I laugh and hide it under my leg. “No. There are no junk pictures involved. Just words. Not the least bit dirty.” Sadly.
She hums, poking through the overloaded tray of jewelry on her dresser, looking for the mate to her earring. She’s getting ready to go out. Of course. “All right. At least he has manners.”
“It’s just… I like him. A lot.”
Jasmine chuckles. “Yeah, I can tell. Just let it happen the way it happens. Sounds like you guys are off to a good start.”
My face warms as I smile. “I hope so.”
“So, now on to the important stuff. How do I look?”
She spins around and strikes a pose. She looks amazing, of course.
“You look great. Where are you going? It’s Tuesday.”
“A team thing with Sean.”
Jasmine and Sean have been dating since high school. She’s a serious business major, but she came to Arlington State because he’s on the football team here, and she wanted to be near him. He’s kind of a big deal on campus, but you’d never know it seeing him with Jasmine. He worships her.
She smooths her hair again and slicks on some more lip gloss. “Have fun with your texting date!” And then she’s gone.
I’ve just settled back down with Owen Meany when my phone buzzes under my thigh. The caller ID pops up, and my breath catches in my throat. It’s Ben. Calling me.
“Hey.” It’s a miracle I sound so nonchalant, because I sure don’t feel it. My palms are sweating, and I’m so giddy I could bounce on the bed.
“Hey, you quit texting in the middle of an important part. Are you still reading?”
“Oh, sorry, my roommate, Jasmine, was talking to me. She just left. Something with her boyfriend Sean’s team.”
“What team?”
“Football.”
“Wait. Sean Jackson?”
“You know him?”
Ben chuckles. “I know of him. Everybody knows who Sean Jackson is.”
“He’s nice. Super sweet with Jasmine. So this book…”
“You’re liking it?”
I grin. “Loving it. Owen’s such a bizarre character, but I love his certainty about everything. He just knows.”
“Knows what?”
“Exactly who he is, why he’s here, and what he’s going to do. Just like Jasmine, actually.”
“Does Jasmine talk in all caps, too?”
“No, but she lives in all caps. She wants to manage one of those monster resort hotels in Vegas, like the Bellagio or Caesar’s Palace, one day. She’s been determined to make it happen since she was a kid.”
“Huh,” Ben says. “I wonder what it feels like to be that confident about your future.”
I sigh. “Wish I knew.”
“But you have to have a pretty clear idea for yourself, too, right? Honors Chemistry at eighteen doesn’t just happen. You have to have a plan.”
He’s not wrong; I did have a plan. I do. I always have. It’s just getting harder and harder to see it lately. “Mostly my plan was to be like my dad.”
“He’s a scientist, too?”
“A chemist. He works for Park Pharmaceuticals. He’s working on a drug now in clinical trials that increases the effectiveness of chemotherapy in cancer patients, so doctors can use less chemo and get more effective, targeted results.”
“Wow.”
“I know, right? He saves lives. Like, he’s in a lab all day, but at the other end, people might live who would have died before. And…” I hesitate. Should I really share this with Ben? We barely know each other— What if I’m oversharing? But he’s silently waiting for me to continue, and I don’t know, he seems like the kind of guy who’d be cool about it. “See, my mom died of cancer when I was ten.”
“Oh, Jesus, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m okay. My parents were always chemists with an interest in pharmaceuticals— That’s how they met, in chemistry class in college. But after we lost her…Well, it’s more than a job for Dad. He’s stayed at Park even though he could make more money someplace else because he believes in the work they do. The drugs they’re developing could help so many people. He wants to make a difference.”
“And so do you?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“So you’re going to be a chemist, too. That’s cool.”
I grimace. “But…”
A pause. “But what?”
I hesitate. “I failed my first chem test. Like, I bombed it. I’ve been doing chemistry experiments with my dad since I was four. Projects, science fair entries, special assignments— We’ve done it all together.”
“That’s great,” Ben says. “You’re lucky to have that kind of relationship with him.”
“But that’s the thing— The minute I was on my own, I crashed and burned.”
“It’s your first semester. It’s rough for everybody. You’ll get a handle on it soon.”
“Maybe I don’t want to.”
The words just hang there, and I can’t take them back. I can’t believe I even said them. To Ben, of all people, who I barely know. I bite my lip and close my eyes, fighting a lump in my chest that aches with every breath.
“Are you having some sort of existential crisis while reading Owen Meany, Hannah?” Ben asks with a laugh. Thank God he laughs. If he didn’t laugh, I’d probably start crying.
“Maybe. Bet you never expected that when you gave it to me.”
“Books can be dangerous. You never know when they’re going to blow up, and what they’ll take out when they do. Why do you think dictators are so fond of burning them? One idea can lead to another, and then before you know it, people are going crazy having thoughts and opinions and stuff.”
Now I’m laughing. Actually laughing, even though I just said something that kind of throws my whole life into chaos. But Ben said the exact right thing, and for a moment, I can breathe.
“So what are you going to do now? Change majors?”
Moment over. My heart races, and my throat goes tight. Change majors? No—I couldn’t—could I? I shake my head. “No way. I worked too hard to get here. And the whole thing with my mom… My dad would be devastated.”
Ben sighs. “I know something about disappointed fathers.”
He sounds so sad and tired. I frown. “That sounds serious.”
“Nah.” He huffs dismissively. “I’ve just never really been the son he wanted me to be.”
And yet, in the bookstore last weekend, when Ben talked about not having enough time to read everything he wanted to, he was so passionate. He loves being there, working there, talking about books. How could a parent be disappointed in someone who’s found their calling?
“What makes you think that?” I ask.
“Pretty sure he’s asked me if I’m gay half a dozen times.”
My chest seizes up. That never even crossed my mind. If Ben is gay… I clear my throat and try to sound casual. “Are you?”
“Not at all. I’m just so different from my dad that the only explanation he can come up with is that I’m gay.”
Oh, thank God. I exhale slowly. “What makes you guys so different?”
“It would be faster to list what doesn’t. He’s a wealth manager. Do you know what that is?”
“Not really.”
Ben chuckles. “Neither do I. But he’s really good at it. He tells me all about it, but it’s like he’s speaking another language. Which is fine— I don’t need to understand his job. But it’s everything else, too. He’s into high-end electronics and sports cars; I’m into old books. He likes football; I like baseball. The list goes on. My parents probably wonder if they brought the wrong kid home from the hospital.”
“Just because you’re different people, that doesn’t mean he’s not proud of you.”
“Can you really be proud of someone when you think what they’re doing with their life is pointless?”
I wince. “Your dad said that?”
“Once or twice.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s no big deal. At least he’s got my brother, who’s like his clone, so he got one perfect son.”
“You have a brother?”
“Gavin. He’s two years older than me. Just started a training program with some investment firm in Chicago that Dad set up for him.”
He sounds so isolated, his father and brother so similar and Ben on the outside. “I’m sorry. That sounds really lonely.”
Ben laughs. “I didn’t mean to sound melodramatic. I’m fine, really. How did we get here anyway? Weren’t we talking about A Prayer for Owen Meany?”
“Yeah. This was fun, though.” I press my palm against my heated cheek and smile. Thank God he can’t see me right now.
“Yeah, it was. So are you coming in this weekend for a new book?”
“Absolutely.”
“I guess I better start thinking about it then. ’Night, Hannah.”
“Good night, Ben.”