by Stacy M Wray
Reed nods. “I know. I will. It’s easier when I have school – takes most of my day. And I also have work, so I won’t be around home much, anyway.”
I hate that Reed’s life at home is shit. His mom sounds like a piece of work – his dad, even worse. I hate that he never knew what it was like to have a loving, caring mom. I hate that he never got to meet mine.
Mr. H turns to me, asking, “You still plannin’ on comin’ over durin’ some weekends?”
“Absolutely. Whatever you need.” I don’t mind since it will only help my savings grow, but, truth be told, I’d do it for free. I glance at Reed, seeing something in his eyes that surprises me.
Envy.
We laugh all through our dinner, reminiscing of our times together. Especially over that damned chicken coop. When the waitress comes to clear our plates away, Mr. H tells her to bring the dessert menu. “We’re celebratin’ tonight.”
Her warm smile radiates genuineness as she turns her attention to him. “Absolutely. Are these your kids?” she asks, giving him a small wink.
His eyes focus on us before turning back to the waitress. “Yep, somethin’ like that.”
She piles the last dirty plate in her arms before she turns to leave. “I’ll get those menus right out to you, sir.”
I think we all swallowed the same lump because our table remains quiet until those menus are dropped off.
After triple-layer chocolate cake, crème brulee, and cheesecake drenched in cherries – all passed around, I might add - we head home. Our stomachs and hearts are stuffed to the gills.
The drive home is somber for all of us, it seems. Each of us about to lose a piece of the closeness we’ve shared in the six months we’ve had together during the last couple of years. We’re quite the threesome, each bringing their own heartache to the table, all of us survivors. Maybe, that’s what makes our bond so special.
I just wish my bond with Reed was more on the permanent side.
Chapter Eighteen
Reed
August 2011
I’ve made up my mind. I can’t leave without talking to Harper. I’m not driving away without some sort of plan put into motion. Even if we survive only on texts and phone calls, I will. I don’t know what the future entails, but I do know that I’m not going to be able to walk away cold turkey this time. Not again.
Will she want that? Would it be enough?
On the way home, I slide her phone from underneath her fingers. Her brows rise to her hairline as I text a message to my phone from hers, so I’ll finally have her number, grinning the whole time. Those exotic lips tip up in a satisfied smile as she waits for me to slip it back to her.
Pulling in past his new mailbox, Mr. H puts the truck in gear and turns off the ignition. We climb out, thanking him, once again, for dinner.
Mr. H pats me on the shoulder before walking up to the house. “Get a good rest tonight, son. You’re gonna need a good head on them shoulders when you pull into that city tomorrow.”
“I will.”
“Night,” he hollers, his back to us as he reaches the mud room. He gives a short wave above his head. Funny how no one ever uses his front door.
When I hear the creaky door slam against the wooden doorjamb, I turn my attention to Harper. Once again, the currant between us is palpable. Her eyes fill with unanswered questions – questions I’m not even sure I have the answers to.
“We need to talk.”
She swallows slowly. “Yeah.”
“Later tonight. After your dad’s asleep.”
Nodding, she answers, “Okay.”
I want to touch her so bad, but I know now is not the time. “I’ll be waiting.” She turns toward her house, crossing the street, but not before she looks at me over her shoulder, her eyes alive.
I doze while I wait for her, unable to stay awake after that huge meal. A light tapping on my door has me springing up, wiping my hands over my face to get me going. Swinging the door open, Harper’s beautiful face appears on the other side, those lips beckoning to me.
She smiles. “I woke you, didn’t I?”
Grinning, I say, “You may have.”
I step back, allowing her to enter. She slips in and I shut the door, relieved we’re finally alone.
She gingerly sits on the side of my unmade bed, floating her hands over the wrinkled sheets. Seeing her sitting on my bed does all sorts of things to me, none of which her father would approve of.
“So…what did you want to talk about?”
Now that she’s here, I’m not sure what to say. I don’t even want to talk after those images popped into my head.
Taking a step closer, I wedge one of my legs between her knees, pressing it closer and closer until it’s touching the apex of her thighs. She gasps at the contact, but her eyes never leave mine. Her lips part and it’s my undoing. My leg acts with a mind of its own, rubbing up and down the outside of her shorts, causing a friction that has her eyes closing.
“Fuck, Harper.” It slips out in a whisper. I didn’t plan this. I did want to talk. But, dammit, she had to go and seduce me with those lips.
Bending down, I reach behind her head, forcing it to mine, and I suck on those lips. I bite and suck some more, nearly coming inside my jeans. She whimpers as I ravage her mouth, my leg now moving faster, with more pressure. I steal her scream as her body shivers in tiny convulsions, but I don’t let up. I continue to rub her until she breaks away from our kiss, attempting to catch her breath.
Her cheeks are flushed and rosy, her eyes wild. She looks at me, completely spent. “I’ve never…” She shakes her head.
Unable to help myself, I smirk.
She smiles, not in the least bit embarrassed by what we just shared. “God, Reed…”
I step out from between her legs and sit beside her, brushing the hair from her face. “That was incredible to watch.” This girl sends me in spirals. The thought of another guy touching her has me seeing red. I’ve got to make sure that doesn’t happen.
I sigh heavily. I hate our situation. I hate our youth. The rules that stand between us. We can’t do shit until we’re eighteen. I’m so fucking close and she’s so far away – at least a year and a half.
“I don’t know what to do, Harper. I want you. I want us. Tell me how to make this work.”
Her eyes widen at my admission. And then, I see the look of defeat, knowing our ages are our worst enemy. That, and geography. Shaking her head, she says, “I don’t know. Chicago isn’t that far, but I don’t even have a car, Reed. I can’t even meet you halfway anywhere. All’s we have is the phone.”
I lean in, tracing her lips with my tongue, kissing her heatedly before answering. “We’re just going to have to make it work. I won’t lose you, Harper. I don’t deserve you, but dammit, you’re mine.”
She stills for a moment. “What about your promise to Mr. H?”
“Don’t you see? Tonight marks my last night on this farm. I love it here, but I won’t need Mr. H to rescue me next summer. I’ll be eighteen. An adult. My own keeper. He isn’t blind, Harper. He knows how we feel about each other. I think he just didn’t want anything going on under his nose. And it didn’t, for the most part.” I think he’d be okay with us getting together, just not during these past two summers.
She sighs. “I want to stay true to that promise, Reed. I want you to be able to leave here with a clean conscience.”
I look at her sheepishly, saying, “Pretty sure you can’t take back what just happened.”
She hits me in the shoulder, half laughing, as she says, “You know what I mean.”
Meaning we won’t be doing anything else tonight except kissing. And I’m okay with that. I will wait for her as long as it takes. I’ve never been so drawn to someone in all my life. She’s it for me. I can go another whole year without sex if I know she sits at the end of that fucking rainbow – my pot of gold.
Her eyes search mine. “How are we going to do this, Reed?”
My gir
l needs answers, direction. I need to be the voice of hope, doing everything in my power so she knows how serious I am. “We’re going to make a pact. A promise. I’ll wait for you and you wait for me. We’ll talk every day. Twice, if we need to. I will find a way to come see you. We can do this, Harper.” I watch her eyes gleam, my excitement passing on to her. I press my forehead to hers. “No one else touches these lips; no one except me. Promise me.”
She nods. “I promise. But you have to promise me the same thing.”
I take her in my arms and squeeze her to my chest. My lips find her neck, and I plant small kisses up to her ear. “You have nothing to worry about. All I want is you. I promise.”
I spend the night with Harper in my arms, reassuring her that our plan will work – we’ll just take it a day at a time.
If there is ever a promise I plan on keeping, it’s the one attached to Harper James.
Chapter Nineteen
Reed
October 2011
Leaving Harper was fucking hard. But she’s what keeps me going every day.
My inner turmoil during the drive home was indicative of what I’d find once I got there. That sonofabitch was still there – moved in completely. And he had the nerve to act like I was intruding when I walked in the door. My mom barely batted an eye.
Welcome fucking home.
Thank god for Harper. She talks me down from my anger and lifts me up at the same time. She’s my savior - everything. I can almost put up with anything, knowing she’s by my side.
I finally fill Brent and Kylie in about Harper when we hang at Kylie’s house on a Saturday night in early September. Kylie squeals in delight, wanting to know everything about her. But Brent doesn’t say much. I get it. He wants me to be his wing man, chasing tail with him like we used to. Not to mention the fact that both Kylie and I now have people we are accountable to, making us boring in his eyes. He won’t get it until someone knocks him off his feet.
“Pass me the pepperoni, man.” Brent points to the pizza box beside me, and I slide it his way.
That’s it? That’s all he has to say? “Come on, man, don’t be like that.”
“Be like what?” he says, around a mouthful of pizza.
I sigh. “Whatever.” I blow it off, knowing I won’t get anywhere. Brent hates to be called out, shutting down like a dead battery any time something makes him uncomfortable.
Kylie rolls her eyes yet remains silent. He still carries a torch for her but thinks we’re blind to the obvious. I think he just wants what he can’t have.
Shortly after, Brent whips out a joint, but I shake my head when he passes it to me. His shoulders slump in disbelief. “What? Your girl said you couldn’t smoke anymore?”
Anger sweeps up, but I push it down. This has nothing to do with Harper and everything to do with my chats with Mr. H. Well, I guess in a roundabout way, it affects Harper. I’m just trying to stay out of trouble. Keep the peace at home. It’s like Mr. H is on a countdown with me, helping me get through the year without any trouble. A trouble-free Reed means freedom at the end of my senior year.
And I want Harper. Harper doesn’t deserve a low-life bottom feeder. I want to be better than what I’ve come from. Mr. H tells me every time I talk to him that my past does not define the man I’m supposed to be. I’m better. I’m stronger. I can overcome the obstacles placed in my way if I just keep a clear head.
“That’s uncalled for. It’s got nothing to do with her.”
He huffs. “Yeah, whatever.” He stands and taps out the light on his joint, stuffing it in his pocket when he’s sure it’s cooled. “I’m taking this party elsewhere. You guys are just too much fun. Later.” He takes the stairs from the basement two at a time before he disappears.
I stand, and Kylie grabs my arm. “Just let him go, Reed. He’s just going to bring you down.” She sighs, looking in the direction of the stairs. “He’s just going to be one of the last ones to grow up, you know?”
I nod. That was me over a year ago.
When I return home, I retreat into my room and call Harper. I talk to her every night. It’s the best way to wind down my day. She answers on the second ring. “Hey.” Her voice clenches at my gut every time. I miss her.
“Babe. You been waiting on my call?”
“Always”
“I just got home from hanging out with Kylie and Brent. What have you been doing?”
“I’ve been going over my notes for speech.”
I chuckle. “Harper, it’s Saturday night. I’ve never met anyone who studies as much as you do.”
I can tell by the sound of her voice that she’s laying on her stomach, feet up in the air. Her voice always changes when she does that. “Reed, my grades have to be as good as I can make them. I need to work harder than most to make A’s. You know how bad I want to be a lawyer.”
I don’t mean to belittle her dreams, but she acts like she’s a junior in college, not high school. “I know. You’re right. It’s just that you never do anything fun.”
“You’re my fun.”
Okay, that gets me, especially since I know she truly means it. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.”
“Tell me again how good it’s going to be when we’re finally together.”
And she does. She tells me over and over how she sees our future, and I never tire of hearing it. This girl keeps me moving in the right direction. I can’t wait to taste those lips again, to hold her in my arms, to finally have what’s mine.
She tells me so often that I finally believe it myself.
That it’s really going to happen.
*****
More than a month passes when my dad decides to call my mom out of the blue, setting off a domino effect in our house. That asshole loves to toy with her, playing on her insecurities. But this time, he does it when Mr. Beady Eyes is sitting next to her, listening to my mom flirt with my dad. I only know this because I’m in the kitchen making a sandwich and I hear it all take place.
Her loser boyfriend has had enough, knocking the phone out of her hand. He calls her a whore as she scrambles to retrieve the phone. I can see the writing on the wall. This guy is gonna walk anytime now. Can’t say I’m torn up about it.
They’re both half-wasted, and I can’t get out of there soon enough. I shake my head as I walk down the hallway to my bedroom, slamming the door and locking it.
I have two chapters to read for school. I don’t need their drama.
When I get ready for school the next day, the house is quiet. I’m relieved that the rest of the evening was drama-free.
But that relief is short lived when I get home from school the next day. Walking into the house, I sense a strange vibe - call it a sixth sense. It’s quiet, though, and I walk into the kitchen to grab a bag of chips. When I turn around, the loser is nose-to-nose with me.
Goddammit. I don’t fucking need this shit.
“You think you’re better than me, don’t you, boy?” His foul breath permeates the small gap between us, making me sick to my stomach.
When I don’t answer, he shoves me in the chest, knocking me back a step. “Answer me, boy. I saw you shaking your head at me last night. You think you’re better than me. Say it.”
My breathing exercises run through my head on auto play. I’m trying like hell to concentrate on them. He shoves me again. “Say it, motherfucker.”
I close my eyes, gaining every ounce of strength I have. I hear Mr. H’s voice inside my head. You’re better than this, Reed. Don’t let your past define you. Clenching my teeth, I finally choke the words out. “I don’t think that.”
This time, he slaps me upside the head. “And I think you’re a fuckin’ liar.”
Jesus, there’s just no way out of this. I’m trying to remove myself from the situation, but he won’t let it go.
He gets close to my ear. “You think I don’t fuckin’ know that your daddy thinks you’re a piece of shit. Hell, your own mom thinks that, too.” He laughs a
sick, twisted snarl. “You’re just like your dad, aren’t ya? A piece of shit who’s going to stick his dick in everything that moves, right?”
I remain silent, counting like crazy in my head. As soon as I get to twenty-eight, I feel the side of my head, along with my ear, throb with pain after he coldcocks me with his fist. I see stars. Red fucking stars that light me up like the top of a Christmas tree. Anger pours through me, taking over as I land punch after punch to this shithead’s face. He goes down, but I don’t stop. Blood is everywhere. On my fists. On his dingy white wife-beater shirt. On the linoleum floor. And I just keep going, my fists flying into his face, bones crushing.
Until my cell phone rings. It’s Harper’s ringtone. The notes fly from my pocket, dancing around my head. It’s the short melody that finally brings me out of my storm. Harper. I say her name over and over in my head, grasping on to something real. She’s my lifeline. My center.
I look down, realization creeping in second by second.
I hover over this piece of shit, unable to recognize him, and I freeze in fear.
The call goes unanswered.
That’s it.
My future’s ruined.
I can’t have Harper.
Tried as an adult - rings through my head.
I turned eighteen two weeks ago.
I’m so fucked.
Chapter Twenty
Harper
October 22-28, 2011
Aries Horoscope: Aggressive energy is on the rise, proving any romantic advances to be a bit challenging. Use tact and take your time communicating. Your partner will value your decision. Demands on your time escalate around the 25th, as events become scattered and uncooperative, especially with your elders/parents.
It’s been three days since I’ve heard from Reed. It’s so unlike him not to answer his phone, leading me to believe all kinds of horrid scenarios.
But I’m going with he lost his phone – or it was stolen, and he hasn’t had the time to replace it.
I’m going out of my mind, though. I don’t know how to contact his friends. Or his mom. What if he lost all his data? How will he get my phone number?