On an Edge of Glass

that I kno w about Ben Hamilton.  The first is that he used to work at a restaurant downtown with Payton’s friend, Megan.  The second is that he’s a musician.  He plays the cello with the University Symphony.  This pleases me because I picture “orchestra type,” as opposed to some dude in a garage band that’ll be bringing stoners and drunken, slutty groupies in and out the front door at all hours of the night.  The third thing I know about Ben is that he’s just been through a nasty breakup.  The story we get from Megan is that he caught his girlfriend of two years in bed with his best friend.  Ouch. 
    A insley meets him Wednesday afternoon when he stops by to check out the house and his bedroom.  I’d been previously committed to meeting with my study group Wednesday, so I missed him by about twenty minutes.  The exact words that Ainsley uses to describe our soon-to-be roommate to me later are totally dreamy . 
    Great. 
    In my mind this description doesn’t answer the question of whether or not Ben will make a decent housemate.  I want to know the big stuff.  Like, if he agreed not to host any wild parties without our previous consent, or if he seems like the kind of guy that will keep the toilet seat down so that I don’t fall in if I have to pee in the middle of the night. 
    He’ s supposed to be moving in over the weekend. 
                  On Friday afternoon, Mark and I decide to get cappuccinos for the walk back to my place. 
                  “Do you want to go out tonight?”  He inclines his head to me.
                  “What?”  I push the door open and breathe in the scent of coffee through my nostrils.
                  “I asked if you wanted to go out tonight.  Like dancing or something fun.”
                  I shake my head, letting my hands drop down.  “I can’t.  I have to study for the LSAT.”
                  “Ermahgerd!  Enough already.  Studying for that thing is all you’ve done for the past month, Ellie.”
                  “We’ll go dancing when this test is over.  I promise,” I say, looping my hand through his elbow and stepping into line.   
    Mark starts to tell me about the horror of having to go back to the library to redo his source work for the paper he turned in last week.  As we move forward to place our drink orders, I am not scanning every face for my handsome savior. 
    I am not. 
    Okay , okay… I am , though I’m loath to admit it.  Even to myself. 
                  “Ellie-bear, what has been up with you for the past few days?”  Mark asks as he stirs a packet of sweetener into his cup and replaces the lid gingerly. 
                  I look over at my best friend.  His eyes are drawn together in scrutiny behind hipster black-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.  They aren’t even prescription.  He only wears them when he feels like appearing more intellectual . 
                  “What do you mean?”
    “You just seem out of so rts,” he says, rubbing his hand over his ear.  “Is it this thing with Hannah?  Or school?”
    “No.”
    “Have you finally decided to let me give you a makeover?”  Mark’s eyebrows shoot up with interest.
    “ I do not need a makeover!”
    “Well, maybe not an entire makeover, but I think that we can both agree that it’s time to retire that shirt that you’re wearing.”  
                  I push open the frosted glass door that leads to the outside world and let out my breath.  If I can’t confide the woes of my defunct love life to my best friend, then why bother having a best friend at all? 
    “No, Mark,” I say, scrunching up my nose.  “It’s not school, or Hannah, or a makeover.  It’s something completely lame.  I’ll tell you, but first you have to promise not to laugh at me.”
                  His mouth goes slack.  His left hand goes to his chest. “Me?”  He asks, laying on the innocent act. 
    “Yes, you .”
    “ I would never laugh at you darling.  But, I will admit that now you’ve piqued my curiosity.” 
                  “Well…” I begin slowly, taking a step forward.
    Mark interrupts me with a grunt.  He freezes dramatically on the sidewalk, letting three people brush by him.  “Elizabeth Glass, tell me right now.  Does the forlorn look on your face have anything