All That Matters

by Michelle Congdon

  She didn’t respond, which I had anticipated. She barely even moved until I stepped up beside her and the side of my arm accidentally brushed against hers. She tensed. “Sorry,” I quickly said, taking a small step to the right to put some space between us.

  I found myself staring at her skin, entranced by the ink decorating her entire body. I counted eight clearly visible tattoos this time, but I knew she had many more than that. A large black and gray portrait of a winged man carrying a woman in a long, flowy dress took up the majority of her left forearm. A tiny paper plane, with small dashes going in a loop behind it, adorned the area of skin of her palm just below her thumb. A small, dark outline of an equilateral triangle sat on the inside wrist bone of her right hand. Higher up, near the crease of her arm, sat roman numerals, but I couldn’t read them clearly because of the way she was leaning over, but damn if I didn’t want to know what they meant. Marked on the side of her right index finger was a treble clef, while on the back of the same hand, near her thumb, was a symbol of two bold, identical arrows facing the same way and below it was the letter Q. I knew the initial stood for her twin sister, Quinn, just like I knew many other tattoos did, but what intrigued me the most was the long paragraph running across the side of her ribcage that could be seen through the cutaway of her dress. They were lyrics; not just any lyrics, but ones I knew off the top of my head. ‘We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year; running over the same ground, what have we found? The same old fears, wish you were here.’ were what they read. Pink Floyd. So that was her favorite song, too.

  “Did you come up here for a reason?”

  I blinked at the sound of her bitter voice. Harper made it difficult to like the American accent. She had a sweet-sounding voice, but there was nothing sweet about anything she said; the words that came out of her mouth were often laced with venom. Well, whenever she spoke to me, that was.

  I dragged my gaze away from her lyrical tattoo and looked up at her face. She was glaring at me. Typical.

  “That’s one of my favorite songs, you know.” I pointed to the tattoo of the lyrics on her ribs.

  She didn’t respond, just continued to glare at me, probably wishing she had the power to set me bursting into flames just so she’d get rid of me. “How many do you have? Tattoos, I mean.”

  She let out an exasperated sigh but didn’t look away. “What do you want?”

  “To talk, I guess.” I shrugged. Jeez, she was one tough person to crack.

  Her features softened for a split-second before they were quickly covered up with another icy glare. What is that about? “I don’t want to talk, especially to you. I’m good. That’s all you need to know.”

  “Fine, have it your way, but at least tell me why you’ve been watching me from that doorway for the past three nights.” I lifted my arm and pointed in the direction of the rooftop door.

  She appeared disgusted by my proclamation and responded by narrowing her eyes even further. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she hissed. “Why on Earth would I—”

  “I know it was you, Harper,” I snapped accidentally. Realizing I had sounded harsh, I took a breath and cleared my throat before continuing. “What I mean is, you can come out and say hello instead of continuously hiding in the dark, you know.”

  “You’re insane to think I would waste my time listening to you play your stupid guitar and sing some ridiculous songs.”

  A smile broke out on my face. I didn’t mean to but I couldn’t stop myself, and it was too damn funny not to. She’d just admitted that she’d been watching; sure, she didn’t mean to, but Hell, having Harper say that changed everything. She’d obviously worked out that she’d screwed up because she flashed me another glare and stormed off. I watched her leave, still smiling and shaking my head in disbelief. Before it was just a joke but at that moment, antagonizing Harper Hudson became my new favorite thing.

  How dare he! First, he had the nerve to ask me how was Sydney going? As if he didn’t know, I’d been locked up in this shitty hellhole for the past week! And then he accused me of ogling him from afar? Okay, sure, I stood in the dark, listening to him play music over the last few nights, but I never watched him; I barely had my eyes on him. Ugh. He made me so angry!

  I was glad to be away from him. I’d stormed off and locked my bedroom door in case he decided to come looking for me. In the back of my mind, I knew he wouldn’t, but I didn’t want to take any chances, either.

  No matter how much he irritated me, there was one thing I didn’t quite understand; my body tingled whenever he was near and butterflies in my stomach would flutter around uncontrollably. Why was that happening? I did a great job of hiding my feelings, thanks to the many years of acting, and the reason I’d tensed when his arm brushed against me was because he’d caught me unexpectedly. I tensed from habit; having gone through what I had did that to you. But I’d only be lying to myself if I didn’t say I liked the way it made me feel when he did it. He went up to the balcony looking for me, and he wanted to talk, even though I treated him horribly. My heart ached knowing somebody possibly cared for me. Perhaps I had been too tough on him?

  I heard heavy footsteps making their way slowly up the stairs, followed by smaller ones running up them. The rest of the family was home; it didn’t take a genius to work that out. Great. It meant I had to leave the safe confines of my room and greet them downstairs before sitting down to dinner with them. Not my plan of a fun evening, but it beat being locked up all day. I hadn’t gotten any closer with the family, but it felt nice being around people, people who asked how I was and sounded genuine about it, even though my usual response was a shrug.

  Before I headed downstairs, I changed into a fitted, three-quarter tee that was sure to cover the tattoos on my body, in particular the Pink Floyd lyrics. I did it partly to show some respect to the rest of the family at the dinner table, but mostly because I didn’t want Jackson staring at them or asking any more questions. I also double-checked my diminishing prescription-drug stash to ensure it was safe and away from view; it needed to be refilled desperately. I wasn’t sure how yet, but it had to happen. I made a mental note to start thinking of a plan straight after dinner.

  Walking slowly down the stairs, my mind whirled with ideas of how to leave the house in order to find a way to get some more pills. Ask? But that meant I had to explain where I was going. Sneak out? How was I supposed to know where to go? Would my aunty and uncle even allow me to leave? I couldn’t see why not; I’d been behaving myself so far.

  With my mind preoccupied, I hardly noticed the bulk of muscle standing in front of me until I literally bumped into him. Oomph.

  “Shit, sorry… oh, it’s you.” My demeanor automatically changed once I realized it was Jackson I’d crashed into.

  A sarcastic smile was plastered on his face. “Oh, don’t stress; I wasn’t planning on apologizing either. I just hope I didn’t hurt that pretty little face of yours,” he replied in a snarky tone.

  I raised a brow. “Don’t worry, you didn’t. Running into soft cushion doesn’t hurt at all.” And with that, I mirrored his sarcastic smile before sidestepping around him and continuing my way toward the family dining room. He played football and worked out, so his body was far from soft, but I knew from my brother Hawke that most sports men were extremely conscious of their bodies, and judging by the surprised look he gave me before I looked away, Jackson was no different.

  I felt his presence follow me all the way into the dining room where everyone was already sitting down, ready to eat. I didn’t dare turn around; I would never give him the satisfaction of seeing I actually cared, but I almost revealed my dismay when he said he wasn’t staying for dinner. He told his parents he was off to study and would be back later before kissing his mother on the cheek and disappearing out of the room.

  The room dropped a couple of degrees, I swear; not because of anything bad but for some strange reason, Jackson, the most irritating of them all, seemed to
spark a ray of warmth within me. With him gone, the feeling stopped. How sick did that sound, talking about my cousin?

  “Harper?” Huh.

  I blinked and spun my head toward my aunty, suddenly feeling stupid that I was still staring at the entranceway where Jackson had been standing moments ago.

  “Sorry, Aunt Juliana, I was thinking about something.” I tried smiling politely at her, but I knew it looked as awkward as I felt; the gesture was foreign to me.

  “Not to worry, my dear. I was just saying to your uncle that you’ve been cooped up in the house all week; we should give you a chance to explore Sydney. Would you like to do something like that?”

  My eyes flicked over to my uncle, who was nodding at me encouragingly, before they settled on Blake. Blake managed a shy smile before his freckly, pale face went red as a tomato and he looked down at his dinner.

  “Sure, why not? I need to go and get my hair redone somewhere anyway. Would Blake be taking me?” Saying his name made Blake look up but he quickly glanced elsewhere when he caught me grinning. Did it make me a twisted person because I got my kicks from seeing people uncomfortable?

  “Oh, honey, not a chance. Blake has yet to get his Learner plates.” She giggled before pinching a very-unimpressed Blake on the cheek. “I’ll check out my work schedule tomorrow and see what we can do.”

  “You don’t have to change anything for me, Aunt Juliana; perhaps I could even go alone. I’ve been to many large cities all around the world, and Sydney hardly compares to them.” Then I’d have a chance to get more prescription pills, too.

  Aunt Juliana reacted as though she’d just heard the most ridiculous suggestion in the world, and in a very unsubtle way, she turned to her husband as if it were his turn to talk in this pre-organized conversation.

  “That isn’t necessary, Harper. Julz can sort something out. We are both aware you have a huge fan base here in Australia, and we wouldn’t want you to get hounded by them. Sydney is your chance to relax.” He smiled that smile I knew was reserved for all his patients. It was a controlled and well-rehearsed smile, which, to many would seem natural, but to someone like me, the queen of well-rehearsed smiles, I knew the truth.

  “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

  I didn’t bother arguing and they didn’t bother going into details, which meant the table conversation died down to an awkward silence rather quickly. So when Madison dropped her fork on the ground, then screeched the bottom of her chair on the floor as she tried to reach down and grab it, I welcomed the noise and used the distraction as my way to escape.

  I quickly thanked Aunt Juliana for cooking and rushed up the stairs before she could ask me to help clean up. I may have eased up on the snappy attitude toward them, but if they dared ask me to assist with household chores, it was quickly going to resurface.

  It was the early hours of the morning and I’d struggled to fall asleep without the use of pills again. After recounting the stash after dinner, I calculated that I had a maximum of a week before I completely ran out and couldn’t afford to be careless with them. I was going to try to save them for the times I was really desperate, which was difficult to do for someone who took them on a regular basis.

  I’d sent a text to my contact back home to ask whether they knew anyone in Sydney who might be able to help. So far, I hadn’t heard a reply, but it was standard behavior from them so I tried not to immediately freak out.

  It made me anxious to know that after my stash ran dry, I had no way of protecting myself against the haunting memories of my past. The only thing that seemed to calm me, as messed up as it was, was going up to the rooftop and listening to Jackson play his guitar. It was the reason why I’d done it over the past few nights; his voice soothed me, settled my nerves… made me feel something deeper.

  In my pajamas, I got up quietly, closed my bedroom door and tiptoed down the hall toward the stairs that led to the rooftop. I didn’t want to wake anyone up. Even if Jackson wasn’t home yet, I’d rather be alone than have the entire house waking up and wondering what I was up to.

  Jackson wasn’t there, leaving half of me relieved and a small part disappointed. At least I can step out without anyone disturbing me, I thought to myself.

  “Harper? What are you doing awake?” I jumped at the sudden sound of Jackson’s voice behind me and spun around. It was hard to see his face properly as he was standing there blocking the light, but I could tell by the way he swayed he was intoxicated. Sure enough, his left hand held a half-full bottle of Jack Daniels by the neck.

  “And what are you doing drinking a whole bottle of whiskey?” I retorted.

  Jackson gave a snort before looking down at the Jack in his hand and shrugging. “Bad night.”

  I nodded in response, ready to quickly stride past him and escape back into the house to avoid the awkward silence that had since fallen over us.

  “Harper, wait.”

  Just as I’d tried to take a step, Jackson grabbed me by the wrist, stopping me from going any further. The move caused me to stiffen unintentionally, and Jackson immediately let go. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he added in a quiet, troubled voice.

  I turned around to face him. Now that the balcony light was shining on his face, I could see him better. His glassy eyes were full of worry, like he was afraid he’d just hurt me. My eyes then fell to the bottle of Jack slipping from his grip. If he didn’t put it down soon, it was going to fall and smash on the tiles. Cleaning up broken glass and alcohol, and no doubt fixing an injured Jackson, was not what I wanted to spend the next couple of hours doing. With an inward sigh, I leaned forward and reached for the bottle, surprised that he willingly handed it over to me. “You’re going to drop that if you’re not careful.”

  Straightening, I looked closer at him, surprised to see a dorky, drunken smile on his face. “So, there is a nice girl hiding underneath that bitchy exterior.”

  When I narrowed my eyes in response, he began laughing. “I just don’t want to fix your drunk ass after you decide to cut yourself on broken glass,” I replied, unsmiling.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, waving a hand at me. “I like the nice Harper better, you know, without the sharp tongue. Her accent sounds much prettier that way.”

  He tried turning and walking toward the balcony ledge but stumbled after taking the first couple of steps. Instinctively, I reached out, still clutching the Jack in one hand, and caught him. I didn’t know what I was thinking; my thin frame was never going to support his solid one, even if I wasn’t holding a bottle of alcohol in my hand. We both almost hit the floor, but thankfully, he corrected himself just in time, and we sat awkwardly crouched, not sure who was sitting on who. At least the bottle of Jack was fine.

  Nothing but silence filled the air as we stared at each other, inches apart, both too stunned to speak. It was only for a split-second, but it felt like forever before Jackson burst out laughing, and we both tumbled back onto the ground, knocking the bottle of Jack over. Shit!

  With Jackson’s heavy frame pinning me down, I tried my best to grab the bottle and sit it upright, causing more to spill out. The smell of whiskey engulfed my senses as the pool of dark liquid on the tiles expanded.

  Jackson clumsily helped himself up before assisting me. I probably would’ve been fine on my own, but he wasn’t giving me a choice.

  “You should really go to bed,” I said once I was back on my feet.

  “No, not yet.” He shook his head and walked over to the bottle of Jack, picking it up off the ground.

  “You definitely don’t need any more of that.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do!” he snapped abruptly, causing me to react defensively.

  “Fine! Do what you like. I’m leaving.” I spun on my heel and headed for the door.

  “Wait!”

  I stopped where I was, not turning around, frozen by the command in his voice. I felt the air crackle around us, causing my entire body to tingle.

  “Please, don’t go,” he s
aid in a softer tone. “I’m sorry. Will you… will you stay out here with me?”

  Although it would’ve been easier to ignore him and continue on inside, I didn’t have it in me to leave. I worried that something might happen to him. He was well and truly wasted; at least if I was with him, I could make sure he didn’t fall off the balcony or do something stupid like that.

  “Only to make sure you don’t accidentally kill yourself,” I replied, turning back to face him.

  A smug grin spread across his face, but he held back whatever he wanted to say. Good. I wasn’t interested in hearing his drunken nonsense anyway.

  We sat side by side on two small, uncomfortable, outdoor chairs, staring up at the few stars we could see in the night sky. There was a more comfortable-looking, giant day bed to choose from, but that involved us having to share the same seat, so I welcomed the sore ass that came with sitting where I was. The bottle of Jack sat in between on a small, glass-top table that separated us. He hadn’t touched it since our little fall, but I kept a very close eye on the bottle just in case he decided he was thirsty for more.

  “Do you ever wish some things were different?”

  I slowly tilted my head to face him, wondering where he was going with his comment. He was leaning back in his seat, his hands nestled in his lap and still staring up at the sky, not caring that I was watching him. If only he knew how often I wished for that. “I have a great life; I’m one of the lucky ones. I should be thankful for that, shouldn’t I? But I can’t help but feel this emptiness inside me,” he continued. What is he talking about?

  “I know from experience that not everyone’s lives are as perfect as they seem,” I replied softly, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

  “That’s why I drink. It stops me from feeling so… I’m being stupid, aren’t I?” He slowly turned his head to look at me, his face full of vulnerability.