Could a bath be a hobby? There was almost nothing that I found as calming as the warm water splashing across my skin, especially when I had a good, smutty book and some chocolate to enjoy while I let myself marinate in oils and suds. It was the only time my mind would quiet down enough that I could really relax, almost like the water washed away all the thoughts and worries and just left the core of who I was, just a girl who could soak. A girl who could enjoy.
Tonight was different. The thoughts weren’t turning off, but they weren’t unpleasant; all I could do was replay my time with Lennox. Over the maybe three hours I’d spent with her in the course of my life, I’d found myself more drawn to her than anyone before her. All past crushes seemed like dreams that I could remember only in snippets; with Lennox, after just two meetings I felt like she was a novel I’d memorized every word of. I thought about the way her slim torso curved as she leaned against the bridge. I closed my eyes and pictured the crinkling of her eyes and the small arching of her lips when she smirked. I got that same hot, tingling sensation that I’d had when we were together, and I wondered what her skin would feel like under my fingers. Not even in a sexual way; I just wondered if her cheek would be soft if I reached out and ran my fingers across her face.
I groaned as I submerged my head under the water.
On the first day of Winter Break, Marley and I met at the mall for Christmas shopping and coffee. Her eyes were like tinsel, wide and excited, and she was talking in rapid-fire exclamations from the second we met in front of Starbucks. She was mooning over the seasonal peppermint mochas, the seasonal peppermint bath products, and the seasonal makeup palettes that she wanted to snag from Sephora. When she was finished listing our day’s itinerary, she snapped to the next topic: Sean Custer, aka the boy she was absolutely, for sure going to start dating and then eventually marry.
Marley had a pattern where every couple of months, she loved a new boy with all the fervor and zest imaginable for a time period of no more than a month and a half. While this would drive me beyond crazy with anyone else, it was different with Marley. Not just because she was my oldest friend which, let’s face it, made most grievances acceptable, but because she was so damn earnest about it. When she described each boy, she knew really personal things about him instead of just describing his physical attributes. With Sean Custer, a boy who had definitely picked his nose until middle school, Marley had decided that his interests in LARPing meant that he’d never get boring and his habit of carrying tarot cards to school each day meant he was focused on living the best possible version of the future. You had to hand it to the girl: she knew how to put a positive spin on things.
“And he’s really, really good with the tarot cards, too, Hannah,” Marley was telling me, her hands two butterflies of fluttering movement in front of her face as she talked. “The day I first started thinking about how much I liked him, I asked him to do a reading for me in Art and he guessed that I’d have a new love interest soon.”
As much as I liked to cater to some of Marley’s innocent ideas, I sputtered out a laugh at that one. With an eye roll, I laughingly asked, “Don’t you think that was kind of an easy shot? I mean, he was either flirting with you or figured since you’re single, you probably want a boyfriend.”
Marley stopped short and her wide eyes narrowed at me. With a hand on her newly jutting hip—which was barely noticeable in the first place since Marley is built like a piece of plywood—she pouted at me. She took a slow sip of her coffee, but didn’t move, and she kept her eyes narrowed at me over the rim of her cup.
“Are you doubting my fella’s skills?” she demanded.
Throwing my hands palm out in defeat, I shook my head and plead innocence with all the false sincerity I could muster. She laughed and linked her arm through mine. The mall smelled like perfume and cinnamon and even the kiddie train had a wreath on its front. As it barreled down the left mall lane, we cut in front of a cell phone case kiosk. Marley stopped short and gripped my wrist.
“What?” I barked in shock.
“We could have him read your cards.” She responded breathlessly, her hand still gripping my wrist. I rolled my eyes and pulled away. Her fingers had left red marks against my skin. With a glower, I shook my head. There was no way I was going to sit in a room with Marley and her love of the week while he used a deck of playing cards to try to navigate the non-existent drama of my life. Before I could even get a word out, Marley cut me off.
“How about you?” she asked before lowering her voice to a whisper. “I haven’t heard you so much as mention a crush since school started. What’s going on with the love life, Madam?”
What was going on with my love life? I took a long sip of my cinnamon latte while I mulled over her question. In all practical ways, it was nonexistent. I had no love life to speak of. All I had to tell about was a girl I’d spent maybe three hours with in my lifetime. Then again, a crush is a crush. After another deep sip, I dove into the story of meeting Lennox.
“So, she just leaned over and whispered to you? While you were alone in the woods? Marley marveled, her eyes wide as she grabbed my arm.
I nodded, “Yep. I almost peed my pants,” I confided. That was an exaggeration; I had been mildly startled. Thinking about it now was more frightening than it had been in the moment because my brain had time to play out all the possible dangerous outcomes.
“And you love her?” Marley asked in a singsong voice. I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t love her; I don’t even know her,” I paused a beat before continuing. “But, yeah, I’m smitten. She’s really, really cute.”
As soon as I said that, I wished I hadn’t because of course Marley wanted to know exactly what she looked like. My vague description of her edgy hairstyle with the flippy bangs, her chestnut hair, and her pretty eyes was not satisfying her curiosity. I shut my eyes, trying to conjure up a more exact description, but even after replaying the scene in my head, all I could really add was that Lennox had almost ghostly pale skin, wide blue eyes, and really, really nice eyebrows.
This last detail caused Marley to nod slowly with a sage lift of her own eyebrows. “Thank God her eyebrow game is strong. Can you imagine if she’d had, like, 2000s pencil thin no-brows?”
Chapter Four
Lennox
Twice now, Hannah and I had spent hours alone in the woods. Twice it had been nearly impossible to make myself leave her side. After spending time with her two times, she was already complicating my life.
It wouldn’t have been so bad except my mom noticed. After the second time I met Hannah in the woods, I’d walked into my warm, cinnamon roll scented house with the idea of going up to my room and relaxing at my computer when my mom summoned me into the den. She never wanted to talk to me anymore. Since we’d left Columbus, I’d felt like a ghost in my own home: everyone in the house knew I was there, they could hear me rattle through the hallways, but my presence was to be avoided. I even scared them a little bit. So, when I sat in the old gray recliner across from the couch, I knew whatever was coming was going to suck.
For a minute, I wondered if we were going to play stare chicken. Her eyes were fixed on me, her lips pursed, her fingers knitted together, and her body still. I tried to stare back, but if we were playing a game, I lost quickly. I never could hold my mom’s gaze when I knew she was mad.