The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism

Blonde hair. The color of honey held up to sunlight. Worn long and loose in soft waves that bounced and shifted with every step she took. Her blue eyes were wide and vivid, the kind that caught you before you’d decided to look, bright with something that registered as permanent delight.

The cropped white hoodie ended three inches above the waistband of pink athletic shorts so brief they constituted more suggestion than actual garment. Platform sneakers adding height she didn’t need to legs that already went on for a distance I found personally offensive this early in the morning.

She was curves and confidence and the sort of physical presence that rewired the attention of every person in a room whether they wanted it rewired or not. The kind of beautiful that felt deliberate without being calculated. Like she’d woken up, assembled this version of herself, and decided it was correct.

She stood in the entrance holding two rolling suitcases and a garment bag slung over one shoulder. Her eyes moved across the space with the open curiosity of someone taking inventory of a place she already planned to make hers. Scanning the kitchen. The couch. The windows. The spatial layout. Then her eyes landed on me standing near the counter with my coffee still halfway to my mouth.

Recognition was instantaneous. Her entire face lit up like someone had plugged her directly into the building’s electrical grid. Her smile went from pleasant to incandescent in the span of a single heartbeat. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

"OH MY GOD."

The suitcases hit the floor with synchronized thuds. The garment bag slid off her shoulder and draped itself across the nearest suitcase handle with the kind of elegance that suggested even her belongings had good presentation instincts.

She crossed the common room in four steps that covered ground faster than her platform sneakers should have allowed, each one purposeful and locked onto target.

Before I could set my coffee down or form a greeting or do anything resembling a prepared response, Felicity Hardy was airborne.

She hit me like a tactical missile designed for maximum emotional impact. Her arms locked around my neck. Her body pressed against mine with the warm solid weight of someone genuinely and unreservedly happy to see me.

I could feel the softness of her chest compress against mine through two layers of fabric in a way my brain registered with clarity I found deeply inconvenient at seven in the morning.

She smelled like vanilla and something floral and expensive. The kind of scent that cost more per ounce than most people spent on groceries.

"LUKAS! Bestie! Oh my GOD you’re here, you’re actually here, I literally cannot even, like I was lowkey worried they’d put us in different buildings and I’d have to stage a whole transfer situation but no cap you’re right HERE!"

She pulled back far enough to look at my face while maintaining death grip around my neck. Her blue eyes bright and searching and six inches from mine. Up close, freckles across her nose and cheeks were visible.

Light dusting she hadn’t concealed. Added warmth to her features that photographs probably failed to capture. Her lips were glossed pink. Pulled into smile so wide it threatened to split her face.

"Hi, Felicity."

"Don’t you ’hi Felicity’ me, I texted you like fourteen times and you responded to THREE of them with the energy of a customer service chatbot, I thought you were ghosting me, I was literally building a case to present to the housing committee about reassigning you as my emotional support classmate."

"I wasn’t ghosting you. I was busy."

"Busy being mysterious and unavailable? Because that tracks, that is very on brand for you, mister main character energy." She finally released my neck and stepped back, though her hands remained on my shoulders like she wasn’t quite done confirming I was real.

Her eyes dropped from my face and traveled down the length of my body with unabashed assessment of someone who considered looking a basic human right. Black hoodie. Worn jeans. Beat-up low-tops. She catalogued everything and arrived at verdict within two seconds.

"Okay so your fit situation is a literal crime against fashion and we are addressing that this weekend, but also you look like you got taller? Or wider? Something changed, you look. Different."

"I work out."

"Slay but also understatement of the century." She punched my arm, lighter than Sloane but with genuine enthusiasm. "Which room? Please say second floor, please say second floor, I will manifest this into reality right now."

"Two-oh-five. East Tower."

She shrieked. The sound was high enough and sudden enough that Percy, two floors up and behind closed door, probably added it to his ambient noise database. Two other early risers in common room flinched visibly.

"I’m three-oh-four! West Tower, third floor! That’s like. That’s one floor and one hallway away. That’s basically neighbors. That’s basically roommates. I’m telling everyone we’re roommates."

"We are not roommates."

"We are spiritually roommates, Lukas. We survived a fifty-foot robot together. That bonds people on a molecular level. I have science to back this up, I will find the science, give me like forty-eight hours."

I picked up my coffee and took a sip, watching her bounce on her platform sneakers with energy level that should have been illegal before eight in the morning. Her blonde hair swayed with the movement. Cropped hoodie rode up enough to reveal strip of toned stomach that my eighty Intelligence did nothing useful with except process in high definition.

The Oracle Feed pulsed once in peripheral vision.

Felicity Hardy. Temptation Gauge: 5%. Stage: Neutral.

Five percent from entrance exam. From saving her life. From three text responses with chatbot energy. The gauge had climbed three points just from the hug. From physical contact and genuine delight of seeing someone she associated with safety during most dangerous moment of her life.

She grabbed one of her suitcases and looked at me with expectation that bordered on command.

"You’re going to help me move in."