Opposites Attract

Howard POV

The hallway lights were always too dim even during the day, but, standing alone with the person I hated the most in this life, I found myself grateful for the muted, yellow glow of the fluorescent lights and thanking the universe this was happening at night, so it’d be as dark as possible.

When I made the final step toward the blonde girl standing in front of me, I felt my nose wrinkle unconsciously. I noted that her shirt was the one she had worn yesterday and today at school, too. Her shorts looked a size too small for her, and when she noticed my looking, she put her finger to her lips to chew her nail as she nervously tugged the shorts down. I rolled my eyes, knowing that wouldn’t do anything.

“What is it, Howard?” she asked sassily, pursing her lips as if she was the one inconvenienced by this. “I’m kind of a busy person.”

“Oh yeah, and where do you have to be that’s so important?” I challenged, not expecting a serious answer, if one at all.

Her face changed to one of apprehension for a  short second before going back to the sour expression I’m so familiar with, and I scrunched my eyebrows together in confusion. What was that?

“None of your business,” she snapped, but I was already suspicious enough that my curiosity crept in and I couldn’t shake it off. I pulled the baggie out of my backpack and Monatana’s face lit up, her hand reaching out to take it from me. Instead of letting her snatch it out of my hand, though, I simply lifted my arm up. Seeing as I am eight inches taller, this caused a problem. As much as she tried, jumping to try to grab the ziplock bag just wasn’t working. She turned to me with a mean snarl on her face.

“What the hell, Howard? Just give me the bag! I’ve got the money here!” She held up a wad of bills and I sighed.

“That’s not what I’m worried about. Now, I believe I asked you a question, and you didn’t answer.”

“Question?” Montana still looked furious and I blamed her rage at not receiving her Xanax immediately and getting out of here for her sudden forgetfulness.

“Yes. Where do you have to be that’s so important?”

“Oh. I already told you, it’s none—”

“Yes, yes, none of my business. But, I want it to be my business now, so you don’t get your Xanax until you tell me. Or you can take your money and go find another dealer.” I smiled arrogantly down at her underweight figure, knowing I had won this argument. The frail girl groaned, frustrated, and mumbled her answer. I decided I didn’t have time for her to be playing tricks like that so I flicked her forehead and her head snapped up to make eye contact with me, her hand flying up to her head, and she squinted at me.

“Ow!”

“I couldn’t hear you.”

Anger flashed through her eyes and maintained eye contact before finally lowering her guard just a little bit, in order to get her precious Xanax.

She looked left while she spoke, but at least she wasn’t talking to the floor anymore.

“I have to go visit my sister in the hospital,” came her raspy voice.

My hands twitched. She didn’t notice. Of course she didn’t, she never was one for attention to detail.

“Hospital? Why is she in the hospital? Is this your older sister?” I asked before I could stop myself. Montana gave me an incredulous look, and I knew she was scrutinizing my intentions. I had an excuse to be inquiring, though; I was two years older than her at the time and so I was in my junior year of college, in the same grade as her older sister, Mauvis. Montana was but a tiny freshman and she still had one sister left at home: a sophomore in high school who looked almost exactly like their mother. I found it cute when I first met her, and that caused Montana to punch me in the arm. I think that was the first time I felt anything but repulsion to her, ironically.

“...yeah, it’s Mauvis. She had a heart attack, I think. Or a stroke. I actually don’t really know, but I have to get there soon or the visitations will close—”

“I’ll take you. C’mon.” I brushed past her and headed to the doors that lead to the parking lot. Montana froze where she stood, probably shocked by my determination, and even my willingness to take her. I paused and groaned, turning around when I reached the doors that lead out of the building. It was getting stuffy and I wanted to get outside as soon as possible. “Montana. It makes sense. I have a ride, you have to walk. I’m not letting that happen in the dark, especially in this cold. I may not be the most morally right person,” I admit, patting my pocket where the bag of pills could be heard rustling, “but I am a gentleman at heart. Now come on, or do you want to miss visitation?”

That seemed to get the feeble girl going, and she walked to the door, where I was still waiting. We paused, and she tilted her head up to look at me, her eyes squinting suspiciously at me in the dim light.

“Fine. Only because I don’t want to miss visitation, douchebag. And give me my Xanax, here’s the money.”

I took the rolled-up fifty from her hand—I had long since been giving her a discount because of “family associations,” when really it was because I felt bad charging such a cute girl with such a lovely family seventy five dollars a bag—and cautiously set the bag down on her hand.

“No taking the Xanax into the hospital, doctors can smell those from a mile away,” I warned her as I handed her a sleek, black helmet and she rolled her eyes at me.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she scoffed, acting offended that I didn’t think she knew that. Truth is, I didn’t want to get caught. Or her to get caught. But that was less important.

Was it? I found myself staring out into the distance as she struggled to buckle the helmet, my heart pounding in fear and panic at the thought of her getting found by the police. Would I be able to visit her? No, that would get me caught, too. Would it be worth it?

“Howard! Are we going?” Montana’s whiney voice right next to my ear pierced my thoughts and I sighed, feeling her pinching my side. I grasped her wrist and she squirmed, so I let go, trusting she wouldn’t do it again. She didn’t. I regretted setting up the back seat to be elevated just because of the fling we had last summer, but I regretted not changing it when the school year started more.

I started the engine on my motorcycle, and off we went, Montana’s arms holding me to her in a tight grip. I winced, but didn’t say anything. It’d be over soon anyway, since the hospital was only a ten-minute ride, especially if I went fast. We didn’t say a word the entire ride.

Montana POV

The ride was smooth, and I realized how much better Howard had gotten at driving his motorcycle. Albeit, I’d only ridden on it two or three times, but still, that was last year and I guessed he’s been practicing. For what, I wondered, resting my head on his shoulder before I realized what I was doing and yanked it away, opting instead to rest my cheek on his back. I could be wrong, but I felt a chuckle. Against my will, that made my heart jump, setting the tone for the rest of the ride.

When we pulled up to the hospital, he parked the bike and I started towards the ER doors, chills crawling up over my body. I didn’t want to go in, but I needed to see my sister. Like any child with a chronically sick sister, I spent the entirety of my childhood in and out of hospitals. I don’t blame her, necessarily, but I do wish I could have had something that at least resembled a normal childhood. I had hoped a relapse wouldn't happen again, but knew it would.

I heard footsteps beside me and looked up, knowing it would be Howard. Ugh, he would just not leave me alone. I growled and looked down and away, not wanting to look at his stupid face and the lips I’d spent all of last summer dreaming about. I had to keep reminding myself we broke up and for good reason.

“Go away, Howard, I don’t want you here.”

He shrugged. “Then pretend I’m not here.”

“It’s kind of hard to do that when you have such an annoying personality,” I retorted. He coughed, hiding his laugh. I knew him well enough to know what he was thinking: My annoying personality that you wanted to be with so badly?

I was too tired to fight any more, so I just let it go, and we lapsed into silence as we walked through the huge, automatic doors to beeline to the front desk. The person working there looked young and had a blue wolf cut. That was new. They looked up and smiled, showing off some piercings.

“Hi! How can I help you?” They asked, and I was brought back down to earth from my thoughts of confusion and question of what happened to the former front desk assistant.

“Hi, I’m here to visit my sister Mauvis Montgomery—which room is she in?” I blurted out quickly, not bothering with pleasantries, suddenly having the need to see my sister immediately.

“Ah, Mauvis Montgomery...Room 307, third floor.” The person looked up at me through their wispy bangs and smiled. “Holler if you need anything.”

I didn’t say a word back, simply spinning on my heels and peeling towards the elevator. Howard managed to stay on my tracks and I found myself riding the elevator up to my sister’s room with my drug dealer/worst enemy.

Yes, the person I hate the most was also my drug dealer. Any sane person would not let that happen, I understand that, and I wish I could. The problem was that it was impossible, considering he was the only person I knew who had drugs, specifically Xanax, before and after our fling. I wasn’t going to quit because of him, so naturally I kept coming back for more.

“Are you worried?”

What kind of question was that? “Worried about what? There’s nothing to be worried about. She's fine.”

A pause: Complete silence except for the hum of the elevator going up and very faint music wafting through the speaker in each corner of the ceiling.

“Of course I’m worried.”

At first I thought I was just hallucinating when I felt hands lightly on my shoulders, because Howard hasn’t touched me once—friendly or unfriendly—since we broke up last summer. Which was stupid because we kind of weren’t even dating.

Kind of.

Still, as much as I hate him, even though unwanted and repressed memories and the nickname he used to call me fill up my mind and ears like a slideshow for a class presentation no one wants to listen to but happens anyway, I find that I can’t move. I can’t blink, I can’t breathe, but most importantly (and horrifyingly), I couldn’t step away or say “stop.” I guess he took that as a signal to go ahead, but instead of going for my chest or my pants like I thought he would, he just snaked his arms around me carefully and held me in a hug from behind. I still didn’t move, and we stayed like that until the elevator dinged and he stepped backwards. I don’t know why, and I hated myself for it, but at that moment I wanted him to come back and hug me some more. I chalked it up to being lonely and scared.

I stepped out of the elevator first, suddenly finding control of my muscles again, and walked as fast as I could without it being considered running to room—ah, dammit, I forgot the room number! Helpless, I turned to Howard, and found him standing next to a room with his hands in his pockets, looking inside. Despite being panicked and angry at my reamerging feelings for him which had started on the ride over, the only thought in my head after I started staring at him was that he was objectively attractive, standing there like that. He felt my gaze and turned his head, then nodded to whatever was inside the room, which I could guess was probably my sister. I slowly stepped closer, one foot at a time, suddenly not wanting to see her with a million tubes and a breathing machine attached to an IV. Barely holding on again. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but I was reasonably sure it was.

I think Howard saw my hesitance because when I paused at the door, not yet having a view of inside the room, because he wrapped an arm around my shoulder again, squeezing softly. I still didn’t know why he was being so nice and touchy after months of cold disinterest, and I mentally kicked myself for liking it.

I stepped inside. “Mauvis?” I asked tentatively, not sure if she was asleep or if anyone else was inside the room. When my head rounded the smooth doorway, my eyes welled up, but I immediately blinked rapidly to make the tears go away. I was done with crying, especially in front of other people, and especially in front of Howard Crate.

She was sleeping soundly and only had a breather and an IV, but no other tubes were in her, as far as I could see. I breathed out a sigh of relief and stepped back into the hallway, slumping against the wall and sliding down until I was sitting with my legs bent in front of me. I hugged them and let my head roll back to rest against the wall. All at once I realized just how drained I was.

Howard stayed in the room for a second longer and then joined me in the brightly-lit hallway, sitting down next to me and resting his hands face-down on the floor without thinking. After a few seconds of contemplation, I decided to reach out and rest my hand on top of his before I talked myself out of it.

Surprise took over his face before he shot me a tired grin and also leaned his head back on the wall. I guessed he’d be tired, too; it was late and he’d driven me around and also met me out at our school to deliver the Xanax because I had texted him last minute. After hearing the news of my sister, I knew it was horrible but I just needed something in my system to help me relax, but Howard rushed me over before I could even take some, and now they were in the back of his bike. Stupid Howard. Stupid, handsome, can’t-keep-my-eyes-off-him Howard.

Despite his being tired, I decided to be difficult. It was either that or cry on his shoulder, and I did not trust myself or Howard in that situation. “Why are you tired? It’s not that late. You usually stay up, right?”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “Haven’t been sleeping much,” is all he said. Dammit, he wasn’t taking the bait.

“Well, why not?” I persisted. My lips curled up into a jealous smile. “Thinking about a girl?”

He smiled, but it wasn’t jealous like mine. It was a remorseful smile, more of a grimace, really. “Yeah, actually.”

“Who?”

“Oh, someone you know. Someone I shouldn’t like.”

I gave a curt laugh. “Howard, when have you not liked someone you shouldn’t like?”

He laughed, too, and kept chuckling for a few seconds before responding to my bitter question.

“You’re right, you’re right. But...look, I’ll just be honest. It’s you.”

I snatched my hand back, and Howard didn’t move, like he expected it.

“What?”

“Thought you’d react like that. I know I wasn’t the best friend over the summer, or in first semester—”

“You were actually the opposite of what a best friend is supposed to be.”

“—Yes, right, and I actually hate myself for this, but I can’t stop thinking about you. Even though we’re total opposites and that’s why we broke it off before, I can’t get enough of how much more...variety? Yeah, variety you brought into my life back then. It's so dull now. There’s no more color.” He gave me that lazy grin again, his eyes playful. “And you know you miss the affection. This entire night you haven’t done one thing to stop me.”

I’d rather shoot myself than admit it. He knows it, too.

“Yes, I have.”

“Sure, Montana.”

The way he said my name gave me the shivers. He saw my shaking and scooted closer, but I scooted away, towards the door. He sighed.

“Okay, so maybe we don’t have to rush into it like last time. Maybe we can just start here.”

He placed his hand on top of mine. I moved so my hand slid out from underneath his, and, after a second, I gently placed it on top of his for the second time that night.

“Fine. Don’t expect anything more, though,” I cautioned, knowing full well if he leaned over to kiss me I’d love nothing more.

He chuckled and stayed where he was, much to my disappointment. But the rectification of the old, teasing nickname in his high school foreign language—one only he called me—made it all up.

“Whatever you say, mon râleur.”