The Scumbag's Guide To Heroism novel Chapter 177

Chapter 177: 177 | Bestie, Acknowledge Me [PS BONUS]

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.

"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."

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