18. Hadley
Hadley
“N olan didn’t really hide your phone in here, did he?” Hannah asks as I tear the note off of the roasting pan filled with red Jell-O sitting on the top shelf of the fridge.
Ring, Ring. Is scrawled across the scrap of paper that I flip over to find an address before folding it and sliding it into my back pocket before pulling the pan from the fridge. In the center is a dark object—my missing (stolen) phone.
Hannah cackles. “How many packs of Jell-O did he use?”
I shake my head, poking the firm surface that warbles under my touch. “This is so vindictive.” The past two weeks have passed in a blur of routine, blissfully interrupted by pranks that have kept me on my toes.
I Saran wrapped Nolan’s bedroom door at face level.
He covered the inside and outside of my car with a million sticky notes.
I tucked a straw into a salsa packet and taped it shut before dunking it into his soft drink.
He Duct Taped me to my bed while asleep.
I charmed the lady at the bakery, explaining my ex had cheated on me and convinced her to fill a box of doughnuts with mayonnaise instead of crème filling.
He retaliated by leaving coloring crayons on my windshield, causing a rainbow to appear with every use for the last three days.
Hannah laughs harder as I dig into the Jell-O that is surprisingly difficult to cut through. Thankfully, he sealed my phone in a baggie.
“Is Katie going out with us tonight?” I ask, checking to make sure my phone still works after being refrigerated for a full night and day.
“Yes. She said when we got the final clue to text the address to her and she and Carsen will meet us there.”
“What about Ethan?”
Her eyes brighten at the mere mention of him. They do every single time. It’s ridiculously cute and slightly nauseating. “They have a late practice but he’s going to meet us there as soon as he can.”
I nod. Nolan and I don’t often confer schedules, I can snuggle next to him and walk with him to class every Wednesday, but comparing schedules seems to cross an invisible and arbitrary line one of us has drawn and both of us maintain.
We’re going to our second Camden tradition tonight. Nolan has left clues tied to pranks all week. This last one is the address for the event.
“Are we going to have to run again?” she asks.
I shake my head. “All I know is that it’s at a theater on campus,” I tell her. “I asked some people from class if they heard anything, but no one’s heard of anything. I’m half expecting it to be a trick and we’re going to walk in on a prank.”
Hannah winces. “He’d totally do that.”
He would.
“So the question is, do we take the risk and go or stay home?”
“We have to go. If it’s not a prank, we’ll regret it.”
An hour later, Hannah and I are in the back seat of Ethan’s car, Colin in the front passenger seat.
“He didn’t tell you anything?” I ask Ethan incredulously.
Ethan chuckles. “You act like we’re friends. We only speak to Nolan now because of you guys.”
I hate the elitist tone Ethan paints of Nolan. “You’re teammates.”
Ethan scoffs. “He’s also first string. We’re second-string sophomores, and neither of us will ever play with him, and wouldn’t even if we were first-string.”
“Nolan’s only ever been nice anytime I’ve been around him,” Hannah says.
“Yeah, aren’t we going out tonight because of him…?” I ask.
Neither one responds, and for a minute I want to carry this out further, make them take the insinuation back or prove it.
Their words are a passenger in my thoughts as we continue driving.
My phone vibrates in my purse, and I reach for it, expecting to see something from Nolan, but discover a text from Lanie.
Lanie: How are you? How’s your ankle?
Me: Good as new. I’m on my way to another Camden tradition.
Lanie: Another chance at barfing?
Me: I hope not.
Lanie: Are you going with Nolan?
Me: Hannah.
Me: Hannah and the guy she’s dating (Ethan) and his friend Colin. NOT a double date.
Lanie: Does Nolan know?
Me: Know what?
Lanie: That he has competition.
Me: You have taken things so far out of context.
Lanie: Post a pic on your socials. Motivation does wonders for the male ego.
Me: Why are you making me sound so desperate?
Lanie: Is Colin cute?
Me: Not like that.
Lanie: Don’t worry. I’ll get all the details out of you when you come home for Christmas.
Me: Keep your hopes and expectations low.
Lanie: For my little sister? No way.
As we park, I mentally sort through the mess of clues Nolan has given me. “Does the hint breakfast food mean anything to you guys?” I ask.
“Maybe we’re going to have to eat again?” Colin asks.
I shrug. “If it is, let’s hope for waffles.”
“Oh, waffles sound good,” Hannah says as we climb out of the car.
“We aren’t breaking in, are we?” Katie asks from the other side of the parking lot, closing the passenger door of Carsen’s sedan.
“There are too many cars,” I say, peering around the full lot. “Something’s going on.”
The six of us cross to the building I’ve never stepped foot in. The cookie run was a big deal, a stage and mass crowd that made it easy to know we were in the right spot, but here, the only sign is the half-full lot.
Ethan grabs the front door and pulls, but it doesn’t budge. “Locked. Are you sure this is it?”
I pull out the sheet of paper the final clue was written on and recite the address aloud. “This is it. Is there more? Are we in the right parking lot?”
Two girls giggle as they continue past us and around the building.
I look at Katie and then Hannah and shrug when they both give me doubtful looks.
We follow the strangers to a back door that’s propped open by a brick where the scents of toast greet us, reminding me of Sunday breakfasts growing up when Dad made sunny side-up eggs, bacon, and toast. My stomach growls though I’m not hungry.
“Does it smell like…” Katie sniffs the air. “Toast?”
I nod, pointing at what looks like the laundry baskets used at hotels, the ones so large they’re on wheels. The bottom quarter is filled with pieces of dry toast.
I glance from the toast to the auditorium, noting many of the seats are already filled.
“What are we supposed to do?” Hannah asks.
“I have no idea,” I say, searching the crowd again for an answer.
The door behind us opens, and two guys step inside, mid-conversation. “Hadley?”
It takes me a full minute to realize it’s Luke because I’m staring at someone who I think might be eating a piece of toast. “Hey. What are you doing?”
“Well, you had asked about a theater event, and my friend Jean is in drama, so I asked her about it, and … I thought I might run into you.”
I feel Hannah’s eyes boring into me.
“We have no idea what we’re doing or what’s going on,” I tell Luke.
He grins. “We’re supposed to grab toast and watch the final dress rehearsal. Apparently, there’s this scene where they stop, and something is said, and everyone throws their toast on stage.”
“Throw toast?” Hannah asks.
“Yes!” Ethan cheers, diving into the bin to grab as many pieces as he can hold.
We cling to stacks of toast, crumbs sticking to the front of us as we head down an aisle, looking for enough seats to fit our group which now consists of eight.
“We’re going to have to split up,” Katie says. “They blocked off most of the theater.” She looks around with a disappointed sigh. “If Nolan had just told us, we could have been here early and gotten seats.”
“It’s okay. We’ll meet after the show,” Hannah says.
Carsen nods, pointing out two seats in the front row that he directs Katie to.
“Do you want to sit with us?” Luke asks.
Hannah looks at me with a curious expression, as though my answer will be revealing.
My options are to sit beside Colin or Luke. I don’t know that I like either, but Colin certainly seems like the more benign choice.
“Oh, here. We can all sit together,” Hannah says when a couple scoots over, allotting us two additional seats.
The lights flash a warning for us to get seated that has Hannah moving to take the farthest seat. Ethan goes next, followed by Colin, then Luke’s friend, Luke, and finally me, leaving an empty seat beside me.
The professor steps onto the stage, introducing the production that I’ve never heard of.
He bows before disappearing backstage and the lights dim.
The scent of the toast must have triggered my homesickness, because as I sit in the dark theater, Luke whispering about his experience with acting (I’ve quickly learned, Luke has done everything—or claims to have.
Whether we discuss school, baking, or hobbies—he’s done it all and seen it all.
Lanie calls this trait one-upping. Luke is one of the ultimate one uppers).
This has me missing Lanie, which has my thoughts going to our recent exchange of texts, about making Nolan jealous.
The toast is rough and scratchy in my hands, and I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to know when it’s time to throw it when someone plunks into the empty seat next to me.
“Did you get your toast, Cutlass?” Nolan’s fresh scent of bergamot is the only contrast against the toast.
My heart beats faster as I search his expression in the darkened theater, unconvinced it’s truly him. “You’re here.”
He flashes a smile and shifts in his seat. I glance at the two towers of toast in his lap. “Of course, I’m here.”
“Hey,” Luke says, leaning forward. “Did you bring someone? There aren’t any empty seats over this way. You might want to try going up a few rows.”
Nolan’s eyes dart to him and then me, something flickering in his gaze that I don’t know nor recognize. “Just me,” he says.
Luke leans back in his seat. I try to do the same but Nolan leans so close his breath is warm as it fans my ear and cheek. It smells fresh of sweet mint. My stomach beats harder and I forget how to breathe.
“I thought Hannah, Ethan, and Colin were coming with you?” Nolan whispers before leaning back, inviting me into his space.
He doesn’t turn his head for me to speak into his ear, though.
He remains facing me so I taste the mint on my tongue as flashes of our shared kiss claw and tease me to lean closer and kiss him again.
“They’re here. So are Katie and Carsen. Someone decided to hold back the final clue until the last possible moment, so we were a little late.”
“But not late enough to invite a date.” He cocks a brow.
Lanie’s text about jealousy rings in my head.
“I didn’t think you were going to come.”
“I got stuck in a meeting. Our head coach fell and needs to have surgery. We just found out, so they had to go through the formalities tonight of who will be taking over roles. It was a fucking circus.”
There are times when Nolan talks about football and his confidence and assuredness make me think of Spartan warriors, born and raised for battle. Other times, like now, he has bitterness in his tone.
“Is he okay?”
“He’ll be fine.” He sounds regretful.
I search his gaze, working to understand the hardness of his tone. “Why was it such a circus? Is it unusual for a head coach to be absent?”
He blinks, his demeanor calm. Too calm. I wonder if the inside of his brain is chaos and he’s just better than most—better than me—at hiding it? “Because people hate change.”
“Except for you,” I say. “You seem to crave it.”
Nolan flashes a devious grin. “Did you enjoy your Jell-O snack?”
I scoff. “I’m amazed I found my phone. Those clues were impossible. And to bring math equations into it was cruel.”
“Oh, Cutlass. You have to stop underestimating yourself.”
I stare at him, and in the dark of the theater, I swear his gaze falls to my mouth. I wonder if he’s reliving our kiss, recalling the exact pressure and taste as I am.
“Have you seen this production before, Hadley?” Luke asks, leaning forward.
I shake my head. Nolan stares at him again, reminding me of a lion—predatory and calm.
“Have you ever been to the theater?” Luke asks, remiss of our conversation.
“Yeah. Lots of shows come to Vegas.”
“Oh, that’s right. I bet you do get some good shows there.”
Someone behind us shushes him. Luke winces an apology. “We’ll talk more after the show.” He mimes zipping his lips.
I lean back in my seat and try to focus on the stage, my body still curved toward Nolan who sets his elbow on the armrest beside mine. The heat of him has goose bumps dancing across my skin in reaction. “Hudson and Evelyn are a few rows back,” he whispers.
I turn, trying to find them in the dark theater.
Nolan leans closer, his nose grazing the hollow part of my cheek, but he moves so fast I’m not sure if it was intentional or if accidents are teasing me. “I didn’t realize you and Evelyn were Monday besties.”
I lean closer, the armrest biting into my side. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“How did your speech go on Wednesday?”
I haven’t seen him since Tuesday.
I flash a grin, not of confidence but wholly of relief.
“You passed?” His loud tone draws the attention of several people around us. “Cutlass, why didn’t you share the good news? I would’ve given you the rest of the clues as a celebratory gift.”
“You still would have pulled the pranks.”
He nods. “But I would have given you the clues sooner. Why don’t you look excited?’
“Because now I have to give my informative speech.”
“But you have to celebrate your wins, Cutlass. You accomplished something huge. You passed your first speech.”
“I was the only one in the class who hadn’t passed it. Some are already onto their third speeches.”
“We don’t give a shit about them. You passed.
That’s all that matters, and we’re celebrating tonight.
” His eyes dance, but then someone on stage yells, “A toast to me, and you, and to all!” The audience stands and erupts with cheers as pieces of toast begin flying toward the stage and laughter engulfs us.
It’s the greatest sound ever.