Logan Smith has been my best friend for as long as I can remember. We’d grown up together back in Montana, and when my parents decided to move our family to North Carolina I was left with a Logan-shaped void to fill. At ten years old, your whole life is your friends. Moving away to a new strange place where I didn’t know anybody felt like the end of my world. Harlow in time filled the gap that Logan left, and for an eleven-year-old girl, she made a pretty great friend and sidekick. She was literally a much better looking version of Lo. It wasn’t until we progressed into early adolescence that I began to realize my feeling for her ran much deeper than those you harbored for friends. I think perhaps they always had, but my juvenile brain couldn’t decipher that there was more than one type of liking somebody. Logan and I kept in touch; we regularly spoke on the phone, and nine times out of ten Harlow crept her way into our conversations. By the first time they actually met face-to-face they pretty much knew everything about one another. Logan loved Harlow almost as much as I did after ten minutes of knowing her, she was just that type of person. She acted like one of the boys but was way better to look at.
Any respectable eleven-year-old needed to have guy friends too, though, and that’s where Elliott stepped up. We were in the same homeroom and quickly bonded over the usual stuff boys did; hockey, skateboarding and later down the line, girls. I’d met him the same week I met Harlow, and we instantly fell into an easy friendship. Elliott was the reason I tried out for the school hockey team, although our reasons for joining had differed somewhat. I wanted to make the team because I loved hockey, Elliott wanted to make the team because of the attention the team garnered from the girls at school. Our football team sucked, meaning the ice hockey team were the stars of our school. Elliott was a great winger, but if a cute girl caught his eye, his attention went to shit. The term “ladies’ man” had been invented solely for Elliott Roberts.
In the few years between middle school and the start of college Elliott had morphed from a pretty average-sized kid to a complete monster. He was by far the biggest winger we had on the team; he even made our defensemen look a little scrawny. Despite his size, he still skated like a guy carrying half his bulk, which made him quick as hell and one scary-ass mountain of muscle gliding toward you on the ice like a freight train. We made a point through college of trying to all get together when Logan would visit. Logan pretty much thought the sun shined out of Elliott’s ass since he was always surrounded by a harem of hot girls. The pair made a formidable force when they descended on our apartment. Harlow had pretty much given up on warning them to not bring random wasted chicks back and invite the whole campus around for drinks on a whim. She resigned herself to the fact that if Elliott and Lo were visiting, she’d better write off the weekend and embrace the mayhem that they inevitably brought with them.
When I was in Morrison, I’d flick through the photo album I took with me. It was one of the only possessions that brought me any comfort. I’d trace my fingers over page after page of pictures capturing Harlow, Elliot, Lo and all our friends in happier times. It helped me remember back to when everything seemed so much simpler.
2001
I was headstrong and determined when I got to Duke to embark on a JD Masters in Law. I wanted to be done with school as quickly as possible, so that meant working my ass off, leaving little time for anything else. I was spreading myself way too thin, and the strain was telling. I couldn’t stay awake long enough some nights to talk with Harlow about how her day had been, and most of the time she was in the same boat. As soon as she’d decided to become a counselor, we became ships that passed in the night. Our schedules were completely opposite, and it meant for the first time in our lives we had to work at our relationship, making sure that we put time aside, no matter how fleeting, to spend quality time with one and other. When the guys came to visit it gave us both a chance to put down the books and just have fun.
Sometimes I’d come home from work or classes and find Harlow asleep in our bed. She’d look so perfect and beautiful, and all I’d want to do is crawl over her and wake her with my mouth pressed to every part of her flawless skin. But, I knew that she constantly pushed herself mentally and sometimes physically further than she should, so instead, I’d lower myself down next to her and watch her sleep. I had to battle with the desire to wake her up and do all the depraved acts that flashed through my mind as I watched her chest rise and fall in a beautifully hypnotic rhythm. Her lips were always parted when she slept, and she’d sigh and roll over into me, knowing I was there. I’d always found Harlow beautiful, but there was something about watching her sleep that completely undid me. Two minutes watching her and I’d be gone, my whole body humming with need.
“Harlow,” I whispered, trying to wake her gently after receiving a text from Logan. He’d messaged to say that he was flying up for the weekend. It was probably the worst and best time he could come. Worst because we were two weeks away from midterms, and best because I was pretty sure I was at breaking point. I needed some serious R&R with a side of alcohol and about a month’s worth of sleep.
“Hmm, yeah, what?” she asked nestling further down under the comforter.
“Logan is flying up.”
She bolted upright so fast that I’d almost fallen backward off the bed. “What? Like, now?”
I couldn’t help but grin. Her hair was matted and stuck to her cheek, and she was sporting some impressive creases along one side of her face from her pillow.
“Not now, this weekend,” I reassured her.
Her face crumpled into a sort of bemused sneer. “Why are you waking me up to tell me this now then?” The mattress bounced as she dropped back down dramatically.
“Um, because it’s four in the afternoon?”
She uttered something from behind the pillow she’d squashed over her face, and I couldn’t make out the muffled sentence. Whatever she was saying seemed to include the words tired, reading, and jackass. I guessed I was probably the jackass for waking her.
“Come on.” I dragged the pillow from her face and grabbed her wrists, pulling her back to a sitting position before bending and scooping her up over my shoulder. Her yelp was loud enough to burst my eardrums, and I playfully smacked her ass and told her to stop acting like a brat. She shouted at me to put her down, drumming her fists against the base of my back. If she weighed more than a hundred pounds, it might have actually hurt. Instead, I carried her through our apartment, laughing. If I thought she was really mad, I would have put her down, but her giggling was enough indication that she wasn’t about to Chinese burn me for dragging her out of her pit. I deposited her on the small marble counter in the kitchen.
“Jesus, Ellis the top’s freezing!”
The way she squirmed, rocking from one butt cheek to another to try to avoid placing her bare thighs against the surface was kind of hot. Her oversized t-shirt was twisted and looked almost as creased as her face.
“Here, drink this and take them.” I passed her a half-empty bottle of water I’d been drinking from and her pillbox. “Were going to a party on Saturday with Elliott and Logan, and we need to go and find costumes before all the good ones are taken.”
“A costume party! Oh my God, what are we, five?”
“Do you want to be the only person there without one?” I countered and tapped her nose. “Besides, you get to help pick out mine too.”
She knew it was just a sweetener, but I lifted my eyebrows and hit her with my widest grin to try getting her onboard.
She pretended to ponder for a moment before letting out a bored sigh and saying, “Fine, what’s the theme?”
“According to Elliott, it’s ‘When I Grow Up’ so, whatever your dream job was when you were a kid, I guess.”
“That sounds kind of cool actually,” she considered, using her foot to hook around the back of my legs and drag me between hers. I thought I was about to get lucky until she rested her head against my chest, closed her eyes, and let out a massive yawn, using me as nothing more than something to lean on.
“What the hell are you supposed to be?” I’d asked opening the door to Elliott. The pants he was wearing were a sickly-checkered beige and brown and at least an inch too short in the leg. He had dressed in a white button-down with a pen in the breast pocket, and a pair of spectacles that had the thickest lenses I’d ever seen.
“You look like an eccentric old professor,” Harlow said ducking under my shoulder and kissing him on the cheek in greeting.
Elliott stepped into the hall with a broad grin on his face. “Close.” He flicked his glasses, bringing a magnifying lens in front of one eye. “I’m a gynecologist.”
I burst out laughing, and Harlow punched him in the arm. “That’s gross.” She shuddered scrunching her nose. “What kid ever dreams of being a gynecologist when they’re older?”
Elliott shrugged, his shit-eating grin still plastered in place. “Hey, it’s a very reputable profession, and trust me when I say I’ve had a ton of dreams about it.” He tapped the back of his glasses, so they moved up and down on his nose.
“Spoken like a true pervert,” Harlow answered in mild disgust.
“We’re still waiting on Logan,” I said to Elliott as we made our way into the living room. “Want something to drink?”
“Sure, I’ll take a beer. So, when are you guys going to get ready?” he asked, eyeing Harlow and me.
I tossed him a beer and dropped down onto the sofa.
“I’ll go in a sec, but you’d better get your butt into gear,” I said, looking over to Harlow. “That’s a lot of spandex you need to wiggle into.”
Elliott untwisted the cap from his bottle and took a sip before saying, “I like the sound of that.”
I tossed a throw cushion at him, knocking the bottle into his teeth and making him spill.
“Ha, serves you right!” Harlow called as she made her way out of the room to get ready.
“What’s your costume?” Elliott asked, wiping the spilled beer splatters from his ugly pants. I rested back into the sofa and brought my beer to my mouth before answering.
“You’ll see as soon as Harlow’s finished up in the bathroom.” I grabbed the TV remote and flicked the channel to ESPN while we waited. Elliott was screaming at the screen for the soccer referee to be shot when the bathroom door flung open and Harlow came bounding into the room. She was a blur of sunshine yellow lycra and baby-oiled skin, hitting us with her best muscle man pose.
“Eat your vitamins and say your prayers, boys! Watcha gonna do when the Hulkster runs wild on you?”
I choked on my Miller and leaned forward coughing. “Oh my God!”
“Hell yeah!” Elliott shouted through his laughter. “H, you’re my hero right now. Fucking Hulk Hogan—classic.” He stood and high-fived her while I was still trying to cough up my lung.
“Please tell me you want to spar?” Elliott chuckled, and I threw him a dirty look in jest.
“What happened to the nurse costume?” I managed to ask when I finally stopped spluttering.
“Oh. Come on, Ellis. You know I’ve never dreamed of being a nurse. Jake and I used to watch wrestling religiously when I was like, eight or something.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But why Hulk? Didn’t you want to be a girl wrestler?”
“Hello no!” She grinned like I’d just said something stupid. “It’s Hulkamania all the way, brother!” She kissed me, and a hair from her fake blonde handlebar mustache stuck to my lip.
“Damn, facial hair feels weird to kiss.”
“It’s kind of a turn on. I like it when you haven’t shaved,” Harlow countered.
“Yeah, for me, not so much.”
Elliott was still laughing his ass off when there was a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” he called, walking around the chair. “It’s probably Logan, right?”
The sound of hysterical laughter could be heard from the hall, and I was worried for a minute that Elliott was about to piss himself. He walked into the room first, and I gave him a quizzical look. Then Logan appeared behind him in a yellow bandana, blond mullet, mustache, yellow spandex and a red Hulkamania wife beater.
“No way!” I burst out laughing at his expression when he noticed Harlow.
“Oh crap,” Logan exhaled. “She’s wearing it better than me.”
“Trust you to steal my thunder, Smith.” Harlow slipped my grip and immediately threw her arms around my best friend. I loved that they got on so well. “Good to see you, Logan,” she said tackle-hugging him.
“You too, Hulk.” He kissed her cheek before blowing raspberries like a toddler. “Damn. I just got a mouth full of your mustache.”
“Now that’s a phrase I didn’t expect to hear from you,” Elliott chuckled.
“Good to see you, man.” I nudged Logan’s arm as I passed him and made my way over to the fridge to grab everyone another beer.
“Where’s your costume?” he asked following me into the kitchen.
“Just about to go put it on,” I answered, passing him a beer.
“Give me five and I’ll be back,” I announced to the guys as I passed over two more beers and then jogged through to the bedroom. I reemerged a couple minutes later dressed as Father Christmas.
“You wanted to be Santa?” Elliott asked as I walked into the room.
“Yep, what kid wouldn’t want to live in a toy factory and get to fly around in a magical sled?”
“Awe, I think it’s cute.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at Harlow, pulling her up from her seat and then dropping myself into it and dragging her onto my lap in the process. “What time is it? I guess we should probably make our way over to the party.”
“It’s after eight, we should probably make tracks,” Logan answered, so that’s what we did.
Patron has a lot to answer for. It wasn’t even past ten and Elliott and Logan were on their way to being wasted, and I wasn’t too far behind. Harlow was the only sane and sober one among us, which was good because I panicked like crazy about her mixing alcohol with her medication. It’s not that she couldn’t drink at all while on her medication, just small amounts. Tiny amounts. Yeah, no, she probably just shouldn’t drink. Ever.
“Why’s your face red?” I asked Elliott as he dropped down onto the steps of the patio where I was sitting. The music from inside was still deafening, and I’d thought that the fresh air would sober me up. All it had actually done was make me acknowledge how much more buzzed I was than I’d realized.
“See that girl over there?” I looked up, and he pointed to a brunette who was glaring back at us with daggers in her eyes.
“Yep, what about her?”
“I offered her an examination,” he said grinning like an idiot. “She declined with a slap.”
“Are you surprised?” I asked incredulously. “Dude, that’s super creepy. You’re lucky she didn’t mace your dumb ass.”
“It’s a numbers game, Ellis. The more girls I ask, the better the chances that one of them wants to play doctor with me.”
“You do realize that if you get your ass kicked tonight by someone’s boyfriend it’ll be totally deserved, right?”
He shook his head at me like he couldn’t comprehend that I wasn’t down with his plan to harass every girl at the party and I laughed and nudged his leg.
“You’re so whipped. I mean it, you’re like a forty-year-old married man. No, worse, you’re like my dad. It’s college, Ellis. When else is it gonna be acceptable to hit on every girl in the damn room?”
I rolled my eyes so hard that I actually began to feel dizzy. “It’s never acceptable, Elliott. That’s the problem.”
He made a whipping noise, and I just shook my head laughing. Anyone would think he enjoyed being slapped. “Hey, I’m going back inside to find Harlow,” I told him, standing from the patio step.
I turned to make my way inside when he called out, “She was dancing in the front room last I saw her.”
I made my way through the crowded kitchen, pushing past a Ken doll, GI Joe and Superman battling it out at beer pong. There was an astronaut passed out at the table, and Cinderella was patting the back of his neck with a wet towel while talking animatedly to a girl in surgical scrubs. I made it into the living room and had to take off my furry red hat and unbutton my coat—it was too damn hot in a Santa outfit. The house was crammed, the lights were low, and the music was vibrating through my chest. I caught a glimpse of a yellow bandana and blonde mullet and shoved my way through a multitude of drunken dancing classmates.
When I finally sidestepped a girl dressed as a flight attendant sucking face with what I assumed was a chef, I was positioned behind Harlow. I bent my knee into the back of hers making her stumble, then caught and tipped her back dramatically, like a well-practiced dance move. I quickly covered her mouth with my own and the crowd parted, cheering loudly. She tasted like beer and tequila and goddamn was she heavier than she looked! Or maybe I was just drunker than I’d thought. I opened my eyes and was met with bright ginger eyebrows and a pair of stunned eyes that didn’t belong to my girlfriend. My mouth was still pressed on his. HIS!
“What the fu...” Logan murmured trying to crane his head far enough back to separate us. I let go on instinct, and he dropped to the floor in a heap before bouncing back up at the speed of light.
“Jesus Christ, I thought…I mean, you’re wearing…and the hair! What the fuck, Lo? Why’d you take the wife beater off?”
“Because it’s like a hundred degrees in here, Ellis! What the hell, man?” he shouted.
“I saw the spandex and the wig, I thought you were Harlow!” I answered taking in the horror on his face. We paused. The whole room was still cheering, and some dipshit was cat calling.
“Hmm, I always figured if you were ever to cheat on me it would be with someone a little less hairy,” Harlow said from behind me. I spun at the sound her voice, and she was doing a crappy job of hiding her amusement. Her face was about to explode from the laughter she was trying to suppress.
“It’s not funny.”
“Oh come on, Ellis, this is the definition of funny,” she retorted with a broad smile and crinkled eyes.
Logan’s arm draped around my shoulders, and he looked at me before saying, “You’re a shit kisser, Ellis. I think I feel a little sorry for you, H.”
Harlow lost it then and began cackling like a traitor as I stood dumbstruck in a room full of people laughing their asses off at me.
“It’s a good thing I love you two,” I said looking from Harlow to Logan. I really meant it, and it wasn’t just the beer talking. They were my people, and I’d do anything for either of them. “I don’t just go making out with anyone.”