A Safe Bet

Harlow stared down at the list in front of her where her slanted cursive adorned the paper underneath her fingertips. It’s like the words were mocking her. She lifted her hand to write something in the left hand column before sighing and repeating the words in the right hand column she had separated with a thin line.

Yale pro: closer to home. Yale con: closer to home.

The difference of the schools was really only one state closer to home than Massachusetts was—but the one state was still hundreds of miles. Hundreds of miles that was already separating Harlow from the family she had never once been apart from.

Yale had been her dream since she could remember. She had tons of shirts with the words reading ‘Yale Bulldogs’ across them in pearly white font against a royal blue background. Her grandfather had graduated there and he would tell her stories of all his fun times. He would tell her old ghost stories of the campus—because every school ground had one. And he would tell her stories of the day he met her grandmother in a liberal arts class on campus.

Harlow knew that she was destined to go there where Rory Gilmore on her favorite TV show went to Yale—following in her own grandfather’s footsteps.

It obviously was a sign from the universe.

But while she dreamt at night of the cool Connecticut air, a draft from another college rang throughout her ears—demanded, rather. The crimson red of Harvard stained her eyes at night like a nightmare, reminding her that no matter what she wanted—she would most likely end up stuck in her parent’s wishes for her; because that’s who Harlow Peterson was, the girl who obeyed.

Harlow looked down at her vibrating phone and opened to reveal a text from Aimee:

I don’t know what you’re doing this evening, I mean it’s a Saturday night so I’m assuming you’re hanging out with me tonight… there are some sexy shirtless boys in Fight Club calling our names though. Pick up some pizza and be here by seven. Xoxo.

Harlow chuckled at her best friend and smiled. This was exactly why she wasn’t staying in Tempe to settle for a school like Arizona State. She liked quiet Saturday nights with her best friend—not being surrounded by drunken, belligerent idiots screaming their heads off night after night.

“Peterson?”

Harlow rolled her eyes, sighing with a small chuckle on her lips. She shielded her eyes from the hot Arizona sun as she turned to face the lanky boy behind her. “Can’t spend one day without me, huh O’Callaghan?”

John laughed before taking a seat next to her, “Maybe. What brings you to the park?”

He leaned over and began looking at the college pro con lists she had out in front of her. She quickly closed her folder hiding the Yale list she was looking at. If she was going to cave on what she wanted she was going to do it with dignity—meaning no one would know how badly she actually wanted to attend Yale.

“Oh you know, just going for a jog,” Harlow said simply, shoving the pink folder into her Jan sport bag and zipping it hastily. She brushed a piece of her blonde hair that had fallen from her low pony tail behind her ear. “What about you?”

John smiled and placed a small black book on the table in front of them with a pencil. “I needed somewhere to think—and sometimes I just come to the park. It’s simple here.”

Harlow nodded her head in agreement before letting her thoughts wander to what could be in that black book. It was probably pick up lines or something cheesy—John O’Callaghan wasn’t deep enough to be a writer, that was for sure.

“What are your plans for the evening?” John asked after a few moments, noticing—and used to, the fact the she didn’t really start conversation with them.

“I have a hot date,” she joked, rolling her eyes. Her plans wouldn’t be anything impressing to a guy like John.

He smirked, and she glanced (probably longer than she should have) at his thin pink lips, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Ben Affleck and Edward Norton, and a tub of Ben and Jerry…possibly even Papa Joe,” she chuckled softly.

John laughed, before patting her flat stomach, “Good thing you ran first, fatty.”

Harlow laughed with him, enjoying the fact that for once they were actually just—getting along, no homework or anything. It was almost as if they were friends. She inwardly laughed at that thought. Her and John weren’t friends. Hell, if it wasn’t for tutoring he would want nothing to do with a girl like her.

“What are you doing tonight?” Harlow was surprised as the words that fell from her lips. She didn’t know why she asked, honestly. She didn’t really feel like hearing about his escapades or who he was going to sleep with tonight. She was just starting to actually enjoy being around this John, who was actually only really a fragment of the true him—and she was fine with that.

John smiled sheepishly before rubbing the back of his neck, “I—I uh, well, every third Saturday of the month my mom and I take Shane to the batting cages then we all go out for ice cream. It’s kind of dorky, but it’s a tradition.”

Harlow smiled genuinely before touching John’s hand softly, surprising them both. She drew it back quickly before blushing herself, speaking swiftly, “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about John. I—that’s actually really cool.”

“Does your family do stuff like that?” John inquired, leaning his hand in his palm much like he did the other day and leaning closer to her. The distance made her uncomfortable. She had never been kissed by a boy, and his distance wasn’t too far away from making that happen.

Harlow gazed into his green eyes, feeling her breath catch as he stared into her, “I—I, we used to…we don’t anymore, really.”

“Why not?” He asked, looking at her with his face interested, showing her he genuinely cared.

Harlow felt her walls going up around her as he pried, “Why so many questions?” She chuckled softly.

“I want to know more about you,” John said, his voice sounding honest.

She felt her stomach tighten with an emotion she wasn’t used to—nervousness? “Why, John?”

“I like you, Har,” he said simply, glancing at the wooden table below them shyly. “You’re unlike any girl I’ve met and I just, I know you wouldn’t go out with a guy like me so at least let me be your friend…I’ll be anything. Just give me a shot at something.”

Harlow bit her lip, wondering where this was all coming from. Hell, not even a week ago he had called her a bitch and now he was saying he liked her? How did even like her? Was it just a friendly like—or that like like they used to talk about on Hey Arnold.

“Well, now I’ve made this sufficiently awkward,” John laughed. She envied the way he could just laugh when in his place she would have been completely mortified by her silence. “So why not make it more so, right? You should come with me tonight.”

Harlow looked into John’s hopeful eyes that were brightened by his light brown hair that was shining in the sun. “I can’t…I promised my best friend I would hang out with her tonight,” she said honestly.

John didn’t seem fazed. He shrugged lightly before giving her a small smile, “What about next Friday night? I’ll take you out for ice cream—on me.” Harlow raised her eye brow, a small chuckle in her throat as John’s faced became flushed. He continued, “Oh God, I didn’t mean on me…I meant money wise—I’ll buy.”

She laughed quietly and he seemed to relax more. She bit her lip softly, contemplating his offer. “I…I don’t know, John…”

“It’s just ice cream, Peterson. I’m not asking for your hand in marriage, just ice cream,” he smiled, raising his eyebrows at her.

Harlow sighed, “If you get an A on the quiz this week I’ll go out with you for ice cream.”

John smiled, “Sounds like a deal.”

Harlow felt her skin heat up she saw his eyes glance down over her workout short’s and tank clad body. What was she getting herself into?

*

“Dude, are you studying right now, really?”

John stared at the packet in his hands not even glancing away to look at his best friend. He rolled his eyes, “Yes, Eric. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No,” Halvo began softly, “I—I’m just confused. I didn’t even know you could read.”

John took and apple from the basket on the counter and threw it at his friend, ignoring his laughter. “Harlow said if I got an A on the quiz this week she’d go out with me for ice cream on Friday night.”

Eric smirked and rolled his eyes, “I knew there was an ulterior motive to this.”

“Look out, big word,” he laughed.

“Suck my dick,” Halvo retorted, crossing his arms. “I know words.”

“You just don’t know the meaning of them,” John pointed out, laughing at his friend’s expense.

“Just shut up. Anyways, how is the whole thing going? You think you can get it in by prom?” Eric questioned, pulling out the ingredients from John’s cabinets to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

John felt sick—he honestly did. He thought this bet would be easier. He thought she would be easy, but as he got to know her slowly, the worse he felt about what he was doing. But then he was reminded of the bet and the stakes and his conscience would disappear. She was leaving for college anyways, so it’s not like it would ruin her or anything, right? She had no rep to protect like he did.

John worked hard for his popularity and he wasn’t about to let losing a bet take it away from him. Besides, if he couldn’t get in her pants it wasn’t like he couldn’t lie and say that he did. Either way he was getting his money.

“Shoot, I’ll have it in two weeks before prom,” John laughed, silently trying to remind himself of the money once again and not the innocent girl that he was hurting.

It was just a bet.

She was just a bet.

They weren’t friends before this—hell, they weren’t really friends now. But, God, John couldn’t help but to love the way her walls were slowly coming down around him. She seemed as if she trusted him…she seemed as if she believed in him—and in all honesty, that was something he had never really had before.

His parents didn’t expect him to get good grades. His best friends knew he would sleep with any girl and leave the next morning just for his own pleasure. Everyone knew he wasn’t a good guy.

But, when Harlow looked at him, more recently than ever, he didn’t feel like scum. He didn’t feel as if he had this persona to hold up.

John felt like Harlow was holding onto a small part of him that he was positive that he had lost a long time ago. He felt like she could find him. He felt like maybe, just maybe, she could rescue him before he was a lost cause.