Page 5 of Hard to Judge

Tears fill Arlo’s eyes.

I avert my gaze, which moves immediately to my surprising ally in the room. She smiles at me. It’s sweet and sad. “Why did you sell your medals?”

“School fundraising paid for my Olympic trips the summer before my freshman year since I was wrestling for Team USA and not the UK.” I lick my lips and clear my throat to force the words out. “When I started university, I didn’t have any friends, any couches to crash on, or any money. The first break came, and the dorms closed. I slept on campus when I could find a place to hide from security or in shelters when the weather was bad.”

“You slept outside?” Arlo’s voice is rough and rigid.

“Yeah. It wasn’t so bad.” Until I woke up with a boot in my gut on repeat. “The next break was during winter, and the shelter was full a lot of nights. I sold my first two medals to buy food and get a motel room on the really cold nights.”

“Fucking Christ, Hota.” Arlo grips his hair like he’s going to rip it from his scalp. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I know you have more money than God now, but back then, we were both struggling to make it.” I brace the book between my hands.

“I would have?—”

“Put yourself in a bad position to help me.” I cut him off.

“What about your scheme to make money?” Arlo asks, and Hailey’s brows jump with interest.

“In boarding school, Arlo used to do kids’ assignments for cash. I would hack the school’s firewall and supply them porn access,” I explain.

“Oh.” She nods like it makes all the sense in the world.

“Boarding school was one thing, but I couldn’t risk getting caught in college and jeopardizing my scholarship. Besides, I’d sold my laptop to buy plane tickets to get to the States.”

“Fuck,” Arlo grumbles.

“With training and classes, I didn’t have time for a job. By my sophomore year, I had friends to crash with during breaks, and I found a job at the motel.”

Arlo’s gaze pulls mine to his. There’s panic and anguish in his eyes.

“I wasn’t whoring myself out.” My head shakes. “I was washing sheets in a fucking hot box for hours on end.”

“Hey!” Karris hollers from below. “You might want to hurry up and get to presents before Frenchie gets cum on your loveseat."

“You two behave yourselves!” Hailey calls.

“You first.” Her aunt laughs.

“I’ll get the presents,” Hailey tells them and then moves to my side. “Will you help me, Hota?”

“Of course.” I know she’s saving me like I saved her from the drama with Karris and his Dollar-Store-Dobson earlier this evening.

“Page 142,” Arlo barks before I have a chance to move.

Hailey and I both look at him, trying to make sense of his words.

“You asked me if I read any of these books.” He points at the one in my hand and looks only at me. “Lines four, five, and six.”

Arlo’s siren urges me on with a smile.

I flip to the page and see that this is a book of poems. Page 142 isLines Depicting Simple Happinessby Peter Gizzi.

Arlo speaks the words as I read them silently. My fucking eyes sting.

It says he notices all the good things about me.

It says there’s no part of me he wouldn’t want.

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