“Would that offer still be open to the jerk who didn’t get a chance to answer?”
“I don’t see a jerk here.”
“That’s not a no, is it?”
I laughed and looked at the clock on the wall behind him. “The deal expires in ten minutes. It’s a really lucky thing you came in here when you did.”
Andrew’s eyes went a little blank, and he said nothing. “Um . . . what?”
“I’m kidding.” Maybe he was still a little off from being sick. Because my line had been worth at least a coy smile. “And yes, my question still stands.”
“Then I accept.”
I pressed repeat on those words at least five times in my head. I wanted to go to each table and say, Hey, I asked a boy out and he said yes. I did that. Me, Harper O’Malley.
He gestured to the seat that was probably still warm from Ridley. “Are you going to be here for a while?”
“Actually I’m not. I have a shift at the Walnut Street Animal Rescue and have to . . . oh, no.”
“What?”
“It’s nothing.” I could just call my mom. “I forgot I don’t have my car here.” Be bold! Be brave! “Would you want to maybe, um . . .” Why was this so hard? “Take me to the shelter? It’s just a few miles away. If it’s an imposition or if you have somewhere to—”
“I’d be glad to take you.”
I needed to start carrying brown paper bags to hyperventilate into if this went much further. “Thank you.”
He graciously helped me with my chair and walked behind me as we left Liquid Courage. No hand at my back, no umbrella over my head as we raced in the rain to his truck, but we were soaked and laughing by the time we got in. And that made it even better.
One minute and three right turns later, Andrew’s truck pulled up to the rescue.
“So you work here?”
“Yeah.” The metal building looked in sad need of some landscaping and paint, but it was one of my favorite places on earth. When I was here, I didn’t have to guess at rules or worry about anyone getting too close to my space. I knew animals. And they seemed to know me. They listened when I talked, and they needed me, just as I was.
“Are they open?” Andrew put the truck in park. “Looks pretty empty.”
I fished the key out of my purse and gave what I hoped was a playful smile. “Just open to VIPs.” You can do this, Harper. “Do you have any pets?”
“No, I’m really not a cat or dog person.”
I think I quit breathing for a few beats of my heart.
I will not hold this temporary lapse of judgment against him.
“We move a lot with my dad’s job, so it’s just easier,” he said. “My parents did let me have a fish once.”
Well, that was just depressing. Surely over time I could show him how amazing animals were. Ones with fur. “So on Sundays I walk some of the dogs and just play with the animals.” I imagined myself on a staircase, and it was time to take another step. “Want to help me?”
If Andrew’s band ever put out an album, that gorgeous smile had to go on the cover. I wanted to take a picture of his face right now and Instagram it all over the place with the caption, “Andrew just looked at me like this.”
“Sure, I’ll help.” Andrew shut off the truck, and I let us inside the building. We were instantly greeted by a din of barks and even a few meows.
“It’s pretty noisy in here.” I flipped on the lobby lights and led him back to the heart of the shelter.
“Whoa, are we walking all of these dogs?”
“No, volunteers come in shifts.” On the wall hung a clipboard, and I consulted it to see what my assignment was, then turned my full attention to the cages. “Hello, Midge.” I scratched an orange tabby through her cage. “I see your BFF Bootsie got a home. Your day’s coming, girl.” We were a dog rescue, but occasionally we made exceptions. Sometimes when I’d go to the city pound to rescue dogs from their death row, I came back with . . . extras. One time that included a ferret. Mavis had not seen the adorable potential in what she deemed “a really skinny rat.”
I pulled a treat from my purse and pushed it to the cat, then went to find the dog Ridley and I had saved. “This is Trudy. She’s had a rough life. I’m trying to talk my mom into letting me keep her when she’s released by the vet, but it’s not going well.” I opened the door to her cage and slowly reached in and rubbed my hand over her soft little head. “We’re going to change Mom’s mind though, aren’t we, girl?”
“What happened to her?” Andrew asked.
“Her owner beat and starved her. Left her tied to a tree where animals could attack her.”
“How’d she end up here?”
I smiled, thinking of the night Ridley had found me climbing out my window. “Two crazy people rescued her.”
“You can’t save them all.”
“No,” I said. “But I like to try.” What if no one had wanted to save me seven years ago? Where would I be now? “Do you like to dance?”
If Andrew noticed my topic-change completely lacked finesse, he was kind enough not to let on. “I’m not bad. Went to a lot of dances at my old school.”
Was a lot more than one?
I didn’t really dance. My style probably fell somewhere between a convulsion and a fit.
I pulled myself away from the dog and leashed the three scheduled for walks. “This is Carly, Jax, and Sonny.” The amount of tail wagging as we stepped outside could’ve powered a wind farm. The dogs pulled, ready to take the lead. “They’ve each been at the rescue at least a year.”
“Let me take one.” Andrew reached for my hand and grabbed a leash. Was it just me, or had he held onto me just a moment longer than needed? “So no luck talking your mom into taking Trudy home?” He frowned as Jax jumped up and pawed his jeans.
The rain had dwindled to a mist, and I figured my hair probably looked like the French poodle in kennel number seven. “We have a lot going on right now.”
“Hey, the Mushroom Cloud Raincoats are playing a benefit show next Monday night. Performing with some other bands. You should come hear us.”
“I’d love to.” Score one for me. I couldn’t wait to report my success to Ridley and to record Andrew’s every word in my diary.
“I’m really sorry about your parents,” Andrew said as he turned down Davis Street. “My folks and I are pretty tight. I can’t imagine what it’s like to watch them break up. It’s gotta be hard seeing your business all over the news.”
“It is.” That understatement was right up there with I get a little moody with PMS. “My dad says he still loves my mom. So I’m hopeful they’ll work it out.”
“You think he and that lady are over?”
Andrew had obviously caught up on the story. It was hard to live here and not hear all the sordid details. “I think so. I want to believe they are.”
“Do you know where she lives?”
We took another left toward downtown. “No idea. Why?”
“Down, boy. This way. Hey, this way. This guy needs some obedience school.”
I ignored Andrew’s annoyance. “Why do you ask about Josie?”
He shortened the length of Jax’s leash to pull him from the center of the road. “Because I think she might be my neighbor.”
Any crumb of news I could glean on Josie made me both curious and repulsed. “You know her?”
“No. I’ve never really met her.”
“Then how do you know it’s her?”
“Because I saw some guy bring her a bunch of groceries today.” His next words filled my head before Andrew could give them life. “Harper, it was your dad.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Did you just pour yourself a cup of coffee?”
On Monday morning, Mom frowned at my mug of Columbian blend as she sat on a kitchen bar stool.
“I just need a little energy.” I took a sip of the vile stuff and winced. How did people drink this? Hot motor oil would probably taste the same. Was this how Ridle
y felt after a night of booze, cheap girls, and rousing bouts of fisticuffs?
“Are you sleeping well, Harper?” Mom buttered her toast, then unscrewed the lid of peanut butter. “I’m worried about you.”
“I could say the same for you.”
Her lips thinned. “I’m the parent here. It’s not your job to worry about me.”
“That’s stupid.” I set my motor oil on the counter with a loud thunk. “I am worried.”
“Honey—” She picked up a crumb with the tip of her finger. “Did you do your brother’s laundry last night?”
“Yes.” Mom was always so on top of chores, but I’d noticed their dirty clothes turning into a small mountain in the laundry room. “I thought I’d help.”
“I woke up to three clean bathrooms. Know anything about that?”
“Maybe. So?”
“Do you remember when you first came to stay with us?”
Why did everyone keep bringing that up? “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I’m seeing behaviors . . . familiar patterns. And I’m concerned. Your dad and I both are.”
The dad who was probably still seeing that Josie lady? That dad?
All night I wrestled with whether to tell my mom what Andrew had said.
I still didn’t know.
“I think if you had someone to talk to about all that’s going on, someone you trusted, you’d be—”
“Devon McTavish was pushy. And she asked predictable questions. I don’t want to go back to her.”
Mom cut her toast in two and pushed her plate to the side. “You need to give her another chance.”
“How about you find someone for yourself?”
Her eyes widened, and she waited a full five seconds before speaking again. “Chevy Moncrief called the other day. He told me you went to the university to speak to him.”
I took a bolstering drink of the awful brew. “Yes.”
“You’re not to go there again. You have no reason to be on campus.”
“I went to help Ridley—”
“It’s crawling with reporters who will stop at nothing to get a quote from our family. And you certainly do not go snooping around in offices.”
“Who said I was snooping in offices?”
“I know people in that building, Harper. They saw you skulking around and told me about it.”
Shame did a prickly slow walk on spider’s legs up my spine. “I got lost?”
If glares could ground a girl, I’d be on lockdown ’til I was thirty. “Stay away from anything having to do with Josie Blevins. Are we clear?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Did she catch how weak my agreement sounded? “But don’t you want to know—”
“No.” Mom’s voice snapped like a wet towel. “I do not want to know anything about that woman. And I certainly cannot imagine why you would feel the need to go rummaging through her office. I’m very concerned.”
“What if he’s still seeing her?”
“Let’s get back to the original issue. If I hear one more word of your being on campus for anything other than tutoring purposes, or if I catch even a hint of your going anywhere near Josie Blevins or her property, I will take away your car and all social privileges. Furthermore, I’ve made another appointment for you at Vital Roots tomorrow at four.” Mom placed her plate in the sink, the ceramic hitting with a clunk. “Go get ready for school.”
And just like that I was dismissed.
With leaden feet, I walked back upstairs.
Certain my family was irreparably broken.
* * *
Joy and sorrow wrestled for control of my thoughts as I stepped out of my Civic and walked to the courtyard of Washington High School. Sitting on top of a picnic table waiting for me was Molly, her hair in two ponytails that jutted from her head like broken antlers.
“Details.” She took off her sunglasses to reveal blue eye shadow bright enough to glow in the dark.
“The fake lashes are an interesting addition. I like them.”
“Thanks.” She batted the fringy things. “Pretty sure I got glue in my eye, but what’s a little loss of vision when you look this good?”
I slipped off my backpack and climbed onto the table beside her. By 7:45 the campus was a buzz of activity, from the fellow nerds playing chess underneath the large oak, to the couple at the bike rack, making out like the world was ending and they were saying desperate good-byes. With their tongues.
“Start talking,” she said. “That quick text you sent last night was not nearly enough information. So you spoke to Andrew?”
“Yeah, ran into him at the coffee shop downtown. He came over, told me why he hadn’t given me an answer, and then he went with me to the shelter.”
“Mmm. The shelter. Did you kiss to the yelps of schnauzers and abandoned bassets?”
“No.” Though that did sound quite romantic. “Just talked.”
“Talked.” She scrunched her nose like it was a great letdown. “Probably just as well. No makeout session is worth getting sick. He might’ve still been germy.”
For all of Molly’s wild girl ways, she was a closet germophobe. Only she and I knew she carried hand sanitizer in her purse, backpack, car, and clarinet case. In the flu months, her hands were one raw sore from all the alcohol.
“Saw on the news that Josie Blevins got released from the hospital,” Molly said.
“Yeah.”
“Even though she’s a ho-bag, I’m glad she’s okay. If she’d been permanently disabled, that would hang over your dad for the rest of his career.”
Did he have a career? A marriage? A family? Or was he giving it all up for this younger thing?
Molly slipped her shades back onto her nose. “Look at that. Now that’s a boy I’d endure some whooping cough and sinus drainage for.”
Ridley ambled toward us, his backpack slung over one shoulder, his dark hair glinting in the morning light. The pink polo he wore should’ve looked girly on him, but against his dark skin and fitted over that muscular chest, it was the manliest color. His silver chain peeked from the V where he’d ignored the top two buttons.
“Hello, ladies.”
Molly’s mouth formed an O as he stopped at our table. “Hey,” she whispered. “Hey.”
Did he make every girl a bumbling mess? He obviously ate testosterone for breakfast and hotness for a midmorning snack because the boy radiated his own brand of aloof charisma just by walking upright.
“How did your date go last night?” Ridley asked. He didn’t bother taking off his own sunglasses, and from his reclined posture against the table, I wondered if he hadn’t had another late night of . . . I didn’t really want to think about what he did in his evenings.
“It wasn’t a date, but it went well.” Thank you, I mouthed.
He inclined his head and smiled.
“I’m Molly.” My friend presented a weak hand, as if she were Lizzy Bennet waiting for Mr. Darcy to press his angsty lips upon it.
Ridley grinned, then lifted her hand, slapping it in a high five. “Ridley Estes.”
“I know. Oh, I know.”
“You render females stupid,” I said. “It’s like your presence sucks all the brain cells from their heads.”
“We all have our gifts,” he said. “You’re just jealous because you’re immune to mine.” He took a step closer, and I couldn’t help but inhale his light cologne. “You’re missing out on the experience. Most girls like me. Some of them even get to date me.”
“And then they have to get their rabies shots. Did you want something, Ridley?”
The first bell rang, signaling we had seven minutes ’til we were tardy. I’d never had a tardy slip in my life. Ridley could probably use tardy slips to wallpaper his bedrooms walls.
“My comp professor emailed us the next assignment. It’s a research paper.” His voice lost some of that arrogance. “It’s a big project, and I have to read a book.”
I smiled. “Would you like me to show you what
one of those looks like?” Beside me Molly gasped.
“I don’t have time to read this thing,” he said. “It’s stupid.”
“Need some help with the big words?” It hadn’t taken me long to figure out that despite Ridley’s sorry grades, he had a sharp brain in there. But it was still fun to tease him.
“I’m not sure you’re hearing me,” Ridley said. “I have to read 250 pages of this book and write a ten-page research paper to somehow go with it.” He rifled through his bag until he produced a sheet of paper and handed it to me.
As I read the project requirements, I had to agree—it was intense. I guess this was college life.
Lines of tension bracketed Ridley’s mouth, and I almost felt sorry for him. “So we make a plan for how to tackle it in chunks.”
“I could help you with those chunks,” Molly interjected. “I’m so good with chunks.”
I ignored my friend. “It might require some extra time. Extra work.”
“Which means extra study sessions,” Ridley said. “Can you handle that?”
“I’m not sure.” My left thumbnail had a chip in the pale pink polish, and I decided to slowly inspect the rest of my fingers, one at a time.
“Harper—” Ridley rested his hand on my sleeve. “This is major. I need help.”
I looked up from my manicure. “Do you know how to dance?”
A bird called as it soared overhead. “What?”
“Do you know what Andrew likes to do? Dance. Do you know what he’s going to expect from me at the dance?”
“If it involves some fantasy involving your band uniforms, keep it to yourself.” Ridley plucked his project handout from my grip.
“Andrew’s going to expect me to not trip over myself. To know what to shake on the fast songs and where to put my hands on the slow ones.”
Molly popped a piece of gum in her mouth and leaned closer to watch the show.
“What’s the problem here?” Ridley asked.
“You can teach me how to dance.”
He had at least a day’s worth of stubble on his face, and it nearly hid the dimples. “Fine.”
“You will?”
“Yes. I’ll teach you what to shake and . . . what was it, where to put your hands? And in return, you’ll amp up the assistance on my comp class.”
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