ALEX – POV
I was three chapters into Of Mice and Men, curled sideways on my bed like a pretzel, when George started monologuing about dreams and rabbits again. I didn’t know how one book could be so depressing and so good at the same time. My dictionary was lying open next to me, half of it highlighted. Words I’d never bothered to understand before — "solace," "mercy," "futility." Now they hit harder than a linebacker.
George, my grandpa, was out fishing with Gus, thank god. I had the house to myself, the windows cracked just enough to let in the fresh spring air, the soft sound of birds outside mixing with the old creak of our house settling. It was... peaceful.
Until I heard the unmistakable click of the front door swinging open.
"Alex?" a voice called.
I practically leapt out of bed. In one motion, I slammed the book shut and tossed the dictionary under my pillow like it was contraband. My heart pounded like I’d been caught hiding a diary under my mattress.
Too late.
Haley’s blonde head poked around my door frame, brows raised, sunglasses perched on her head like a crown. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
“Jesus, Haley,” I said, trying to play it cool even though I was halfway to a heart attack. “Ever heard of knocking?”
She smirked and sauntered in without asking. “I did knock. Three times. Then I remembered you’re functionally deaf when you’re blasting rock music or hiding your secret nerd life.”
I rolled my eyes and stood, subtly kicking the book further under the bed with my foot. “I’m not hiding anything.”
“Oh please,” she said, plopping onto my desk chair and spinning once. “You looked like I caught you watching some weird anime. What was it? Sci-fi? Fantasy? Oh god—is it poetry?”
I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s just Of Mice and Men. I’m trying to study.”
Her grin faded slightly, replaced by something I couldn’t quite read. Curiosity maybe. Or surprise. “You’re still doing that tutoring thing with Penny?”
“Yeah,” I said, a little quieter. “I want to go back and get my diploma. Not just the GED. I, uh... never really got the full school thing.”
She leaned back, the chair creaking beneath her. “Wow.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice was softer now. “I just thought you’d kind of... given up on all that.”
I looked at the floor. “I thought I had too.”
There was a pause. I expected a joke, some sarcastic dig. But instead she stood, wandered over to my bed, and to my complete horror, crouched down and pulled the book out from where I’d hidden it.
“Hey—”
She sat on the edge of the bed and opened to the dog-eared page. “This is actually a really sad book. I read it in high school... or, more like, skimmed the SparkNotes.” She looked up at me. “You’ve read this far?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “I’ve been... trying.”
Haley studied me for a second. “You know,” she said slowly, “you could read it to me.”
I blinked. “What?”
She shrugged. “I’m bored. My phone’s dead. And honestly? No one’s ever read me anything before that wasn’t a menu or a legal warning.”
I snorted. “You’re serious?”
“Dead serious,” she said, scooting back against the headboard like she owned the place. “I’ll even grade your performance. Dramatic voice, page-turning skills, emotional range—all of it.”
I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help laughing. “Fine. But if you cry, I’m telling everyone.”
“I don’t cry over books,” she said. “Just tax season and broken heels.”
I opened the book and found my spot. I felt stupid at first, like I was auditioning for some school play I hadn’t prepared for. But after a few lines, the words came easier. I didn’t trip over them as much. And Haley—surprisingly—sat quietly, eyes fixed somewhere out the window as I read aloud.
It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t even weird. It just... was.
When I stopped at the end of the chapter, I glanced up. “You still awake?”
She nodded, slowly. “That was actually kinda nice.”
“Don’t sound too shocked.”
She smiled, then looked at me. “You’re not the guy I thought you were a year ago.”
I scratched the back of my head. “Yeah, well... I’m still figuring out who that is.”
“Well,” she said, standing up and tossing the book gently back on the bed. “Let me know when you figure it out. I’ll bring snacks.”
She winked and walked out, leaving the door swinging behind her.
And for once, I didn’t feel embarrassed.
I felt... kind of proud.
------------------------------
It started happening more often after that first time.
Haley would show up at the house with snacks—usually something absurd like imported biscotti or those overpriced fizzy waters she swore “taste like spa days.” Sometimes she’d barge in mid-page, other times she’d sit down uninvited and demand a recap of the last chapter like I was some living audiobook.
I didn’t mind. Not even a little.
Today she showed up with a bag of sour gummy worms and a blanket she’d “liberated” from Emily’s couch. She didn’t even knock this time—just barged in like she lived here, kicked her boots off at the door, and collapsed on the floor of my room with a dramatic sigh.
“You good?” I asked from the bed, where I’d been reading To Kill a Mockingbird. Penny said it’d stretch me. She wasn’t wrong.
“I just spent three hours babysitting Jas and Vincent because Penny and Sam decided to ‘spontaneously reconnect with nature.’” Haley said, face-down into the blanket. “Which is code for date in the woods and dump your kids on someone with good eyebrows.”
I laughed, closing my book with my finger still holding my place. “You do have good eyebrows.”
“I know,” she said without looking up. “It’s my curse.”
I chucked a gummy worm at her head. She caught it midair with surprising reflexes and popped it in her mouth.
“Alright,” she said, sitting up. “Book me, coach.”
I opened to my page again. “You sure you’re not tired of this? You could always, I don’t know, read it yourself.”
Haley pulled a face. “I already read it. Scout and Boo Radley and courtroom sadness. But your dramatic reading voice adds flavor.”
I cleared my throat and read a few paragraphs aloud. She didn’t interrupt like usual. No snarky commentary. No fake gasps. Just... quiet. Focused. Listening.
After a few minutes, I stopped. “You okay?”
Haley blinked, startled out of whatever thoughts she’d sunk into. “Yeah. Sorry. I was just... thinking.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
She snorted, tossing another gummy in my direction. “Shut up.”
I smiled, but I could tell something was different today. Less sass. More weight.
“You don’t have to stay,” I offered, softer this time. “If you’ve got stuff to deal with.”
Haley looked at me, really looked, and for once didn’t deflect with sarcasm. “It’s actually kind of nice here,” she said. “Quiet. Safe.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Same.”
She glanced at the book in my lap. “When I was in high school, I used to read in the back of the fashion magazines and pretend they were real novels. Like, ‘Vogue’s Fall Shoe Trends’ was my version of a plot twist.”
“That explains so much,” I grinned.
Haley smirked, but her voice softened. “I guess... I never thought reading was for people like me.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. Everyone just assumed I’d end up married with a rich guy and a closet full of heels. Not thinking big thoughts or chasing dreams. Just being decorative.” Her lip twitched. “Sometimes I still feel like that’s all I’m good for.”
I was quiet for a moment, unsure what to say. Then I leaned forward and handed her the book.
“Here,” I said. “Your turn.”
“What?” she blinked. “No way.”
“Come on,” I teased. “Scout needs your voice. She’s depending on you.”
Haley rolled her eyes, but took the book. She read slow, a little shaky at first, stumbling on a few words. But she kept going. Page after page.
And I sat there listening, grinning like an idiot.
Because for the first time in a long time, I felt like maybe I wasn’t the only one trying to grow.
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