by Hanna Ruthie
“What happened to your Mom?” She wonders, her bold personality not shying away from the topic.
“Um it was a car accident. Drunk driver.”
She frowns. “Aw man that’s too bad. Sorry to hear it.”
I swallow nervously and nod my head. “What about your Dad? I-if you don’t mind me asking.”
“I don’t,” she replies cheerfully. “He died in a fire. Our house.”
“Oh my gosh,” I reply, my eyes widening in surprise. “That’s awful, I’m so sorry.”
She shrugs. “Mom and I got out okay.”
Still surprised, I watch her as she takes another few sips. When she looks up at me, she laughs.
“You haven’t even heard the kicker yet.”
“There’s a k-kicker?”
I clear my throat, trying to rid of my nervous stutter. Harper nods her head, her brown curls bouncing up and down.
“My Dad was the one who set the house on fire.”
This time my hand goes over my mouth as I gasp in shock. My God. I thought I had a tragic backstory.
“You know,” Harper continues, “I knew Thomas through it all. He was a really good friend.”
I lower my hand and take a sip of my hot coco, needing the liquid to soothe my dry throat. There’s two things that spin through my mind on repeat. Father! Arson!
“Wanna see my scars?” Harper asks.
Wow she’s open about all of this. Nothing seems to phase the girl.
“Sure?” I reply, my tone giving away my uncertainty.
Harper laughs lightly. “Don’t worry, they aren’t too gruesome.”
She pushes up her sleeve and turns her arm over. Right above her elbow lives a small smattering of bumps, a shade lighter than the color of her skin. I examine them for a moment, looking at their strange shape and pigment. She touches them with her index finger, the feel familiar to her.
“They go all the way up my arm, to my shoulder,” she says. “I used to hate them. Now, I just think of them as a part of me. And Thomas doesn’t seem to mind.”
I smile at her as she pulls her sleeve back down.
“That’s really good,” I reply. “And wow, what an incredible story you have.”
“Yeah,” she laughs. “It’s not one you hear every day.”
“No it’s not,” I agree. “But it’s unique. Kind of like your name. I don’t think I’ve ever met a Harper before.”
She smiles. “Well now you’ve met me! And I want to know more about you!”
I giggle softly. “I’ll have to warn you, I’m not all that interesting.”
Harper raises an eyebrow to me, not believing it. “Pshhhh, there’s no way that the girl who has Matthew Steele wrapped around her finger is not interesting.”
I laugh and shrug. “Ask away then,” I reply. “And then is my turn to put you in the hot seat.”
She laughs. “I think we’re going to get along just fine Josie.”
Smiling, I nod my head. I think so too.
Chapter 17
Matthew Steele.
I open the door when it rattles with a knock. Johnny stands on the other side with a bag from The Burger Joint.
“Hey man,” I greet, letting him in.
We walk inside to the kitchen, pulling our burgers out of their package. Johnny’s here tonight because it’s one of our favorite teams who are playing. The game is already on the TV, the players just warming up. We bring our burgers over to the couch and dig in as we watch them. It’s important to me that I spend time with Johnny like this every once in a while. We grew up together. I practically lived with him and his Mom for a time. After I left, he followed me out here to Connecticut, and now he’s studying and working. He goes to a different school than I do, and he got in on an academic scholarship rather than a sports scholarship. But basketball was a way of life where we grew up, and it’ll always be imprinted on us in some way or another. We watch the match in quiet, eating our food and shouting at the players, ref, and coaches when we can’t help it. During a timeout, I stand from the couch to get a beer.
“How’s your Mom?” I ask him, just checking in.
“She’s good,” he replies. “I think I’m gonna try to fly her in for Christmas.”
I open the fridge, looking inside. “Really? How much is that going to cost?”
“A lot,” he replies. “But it beats going there.”
Well he’s right about that.
“You want a beer?” I ask, poking my head back out from behind the fridge door.
He nods his head so I pull one out and toss it to him. He misses, but luckily it lands on the couch beside him. I snort a laugh. He’s never had the best hand eye coordination. I grab my own and twist the cap off, taking a swig. I peer at the TV while Johnny takes his own gulp of the alcohol.
“Hey so what’s the deal with that girl?” He asks.
My eyes slide from the TV down to him on the couch.
“That girl?”
“Yeah tutor girl.”
“Josie?”
He nods his head swiftly. “Yeah, her. Are you guys like…”
He trails off, letting me finish the thought for him. I shrug.
“Nah. She’s just my tutor.”
He’s giving me a look. A look that says bullshit. I take another swig from my beer.
“What?” I ask.
He looks back towards the TV and stares at it straight on for a minute.
I groan, my head falling back. “Oh don’t tell me you’re going to give me a hard time over needing a tutor.”
“No no man, it’s not that. It’s just…”
“It’s just what?” I snap. This kid knows how to get under my skin. He looks over at me and laughs.
“She didn’t look like a tutor the other night.”
“When was the other night?” I ask, confused.
“I don’t know, last Friday? She came by the diner with a friend.”
“What do you mean she ‘didn’t look like a tutor’?”
Johnny snorts a laugh, shaking his head at me. “She just looked really nice is all.”
Really nice? This new information sends me for a spin. Really nice, Friday night, friend?
“Who was she with? Was it a date?”
Johnny shakes his head at me again. “Man, you ask a lot of questions about someone who’s ‘just your tutor’.” He puts that last part in air quotes.
“Whatever Johnny, just tell me,” I snap.
He rolls his eyes at me, leaning back against the couch to watch the TV again. I bring my beer over to the couch and sit down.
“Just fucking tell me man.”
Johnny laughs, not even looking at me. I knock his leg with my hand.
“Stop being a fucking twat.”
He just smiles, enjoying that this is bothering me so much. He plays a good little brother annoying the ever loving shit out of me.
“I swear, you throw a good bitch fit Steele.”
I flip him off, sinking back against the couch. Whatever. I don’t care. So what if she was on a date. I drink more of my beer hastily. I don’t care.
“She was with a girl,” Johnny answers, finally. “Some brunette who was acting like a bouncy ball.”
Harper.
“Cool,” I reply, lamely.
There’s no hiding it now. And I don’t even look over at him. I know just the shit eating grin he’s going to have on his face. I turn the volume up on the TV and Johnny laughs. Little shit. Even I break and chuckle a little when he laughs. But soon, the timeout finishes and we get back to the game.
* * *
When I wake up late on Wednesday, I change into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, throwing on my socks and shoes to head out for a while. As I walk to the kitchen, I find Thomas and Harper eating some Chinese takeout.
“Hey,” I greet, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.
Thomas nods Hello to me and Harper smiles.
“Hey Matthew,” she says.
“How’s it
going?” I ask, uncapping the water bottle.
She turns to Thomas. “What he really means is how’s Josie?”
I laugh lightly. She’s not wrong. Harper turns back to me.
“I’ve got to admit, usually I’m all for focusing on school, but Josie’s gonna exhaust herself. She might need a sedative just to stop for a while.”
“Why is she working so hard?” I ask, concerned.
“She’s freaked about this presentation she has in our oceanography class. It’s her final.”
“Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?” Thomas asks.
She frowns. “I’m not presenting. My topic didn’t get picked because apparently no one wants to hear about dumb ocean currents.”
He throws an arm over her shoulder. “I do,” he says, kissing her cheek.
She smiles lightly.
“You should go pay her a visit Matthew,” Harper says. “She could use a distraction.”
I look down at the food, my stomach grumbling. “Maybe I’ll bring her some food.”
“Here,” Thomas says. He pushes forward a box of rice and two boxes of chicken. “We got way too much anyways.”
“Cool,” I say, placing them in a takeout bag. I grab two pairs of chopsticks, adding them as well.
“She’s in the building across from the theater. Should be the first floor,” Harper reminds me.
“Alright.” I grab the bag off the counter and head out, locking the door behind me.
* * *
I lean against the doorway watching as Josie groans, slamming her palms on the table in front of her angrily.
“Wow, she’s got a temper too does she?” I tease, walking inside.
Josie’s head swings around, her features still a little angry.
I hold the bag of food up. “I come in peace,” I say, cautious as I walk forward.
Josie relaxes a little, letting herself smile. “Hi,” she says softly.
I take a seat in the chair next to her. “Hi,” I reply, matching her tone.
Josie has a stack of notecards in her hand. I can see her tiny notes scribbled over them. Carefully, I take the notecards from her hands, setting them on the table next to me, where she can’t reach them. Josie sighs and sinks down in her chair. I hand her a pair of chopsticks from the bag and put the two boxes of chicken and the box of rice on top of the table.
“You brought this for me?” She asks.
I nod. “That I did.”
She looks at me with big eyes. “You’re sweet.”
I shrug, chuckling. “Yeah I’m not always an ass.”
She reaches into the boxes with her chopsticks and eats a piece of chicken. I get my own chopsticks and grab some chicken too. We eat in silence, listening to the soft hum of the projector, illuminating the screen with the slides for Josie’s presentation.
“How do you get to be in here all alone?” I ask, gesturing to the classroom around us.
Josie pokes around the box of chicken, still frustrated. “The professor assigned each of us presenting a day to work in here alone. So we could get used to the projector and all that.”
I nod my head, taking another bite. I chew and swallow, looking up at the screen.
“What’s the presentation on?” I ask.
Josie swallows her bite. “Response of the upper ocean to winds.”
I look over at her notecards. “There’s that much to say about wind?”
Josie squints at me and I chuckle, watching as she throws her chopsticks back in the bag. Feeling full myself, I close the boxes and set them back in the bag, setting my chopsticks down.
“Want to hear what I have so far?” She asks. Her eyes examine me, trying to pinpoint whether or not I’m interested. She has no idea how deep I am already.
I nod my head, handing her the notecards. I watch as Josie flips her cards back to what must be the start. She clicks the buttons on a remote, connected to the projector, putting her presentation back at the beginning. I look at it for a minute, totally confused. She begins to speak, and it absolutely astonishes me. I have no idea what she’s saying. It all sounds smart enough. After a minute, one of her hands flips the notecards while she continues to talk. I can tell she’s starting to feel it, her body leaning forward with certain points she’s trying to make. She must speak for five minutes before she makes a mistake, stopping. Her hands flex into fists and I can see the irritation in her eyes.
“I keep messing up there,” she says, staring daggers into her notecards.
“I didn’t hear anything,” I reply, trying to cheer her up.
“Well you wouldn’t Matthew,” she snaps.
I shut my mouth and after a second, she sighs, running a hand over her forehead.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.” Her hand continues to rub against her forehead and I can tell it’s from stress. She puts the notecards down.
“It’s okay,” I shrug. “You’re right. I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
She shakes her head. “No, I should be better than that, really. I’m not usually crazy like this.”
“You’re not crazy,” I say. “You’re just frustrated. You’ve been at it for a long time.”
“I’ve been at it for days and I can’t get past this part.” She sighs, exasperated.
I watch her, her expressions causing me to worry.
“It has to be perfect,” she says.
“Why?” I ask.
Josie looks down, sadness overwhelming her face. “My Mom… she’s the one that showed me the ocean, got me into all this stuff,” she says. “I-I don’t want to disappoint her.”
I can feel the sadness and hurt rolling off of her, and it pains me. “Josie…” I say softly. She sits back down and rests her head against my shoulder. We stay there for a few minutes, and then Josie’s hand reaches out for mine. I let her take it, rubbing my thumb over the back of her hand.
“What is it?” I ask, feeling that she wants to say something.
She breathes for a moment, then looks up at me. “My Mom died from an accident with a drunk driver.”
I’m shocked but I stay silent, respecting this truth that she’s decided to give to me. Her Mom is dead. That’s what she meant when she told me her Mom left her. I try to process what she’s given me. How is she still so bright? So full of energy and positivity after that? She looks down again.
“It wasn’t right,” she says softly. “She did nothing wrong. And then she was just… gone.”
I squeeze her hand, letting her know I’m here, I’m listening. My heart is pounding in my chest. With her own words, she just took a hammer to the dam again. And now, the flood is going to rush.
“I never knew my Dad,” I say quietly. “He was just some guy who knocked up my Mom. I don’t know if she ever even told him she was pregnant.”
It’s Josie’s turn to squeeze my hand now.
“I don’t even know his name,” I share.
She releases my hand, and her arms travel around my midriff, hugging me there.
“I’m so sorry Matthew,” she says.
“It’s okay,” I reply softly, rubbing her shoulder.
We sit there for a few minutes, and then I pick up the notecards again.
“Don’t quit,” I whisper to her. “You’ll get it.”
She stares at the cards for a minute and then slowly releases me, moving out of my hold. She stands up, moving back in front of the screen. She flips back to the start of her notes.
“You know it,” I tell her. “I know you do.”
She looks up at me for a few seconds and then nods to me. She puts the notecards down on the table and grabs the projector clicker, going back to the start. She looks down at her feet, adjusting herself on the floor a little bit, closes her eyes, releases a big breath and begins to speak. This time, as I watch her speak, I’m sure she speaks for longer. Near the end, she’s smiling as she speaks. As soon as she finishes the last few words, she jumps up and down, exc
ited.
“Yes!” She shouts, throwing her fist in the air.
I stand up, smiling at her.
“Did you see that?!” She asks me.
I nod. “I saw it.”
I hold my hand up for a high five and she slaps it hard. She skips around the room a little bit and comes back to the notes on the table.
“I’m done with you!” She says to the notes. Then she runs her hand over the words. “But just for today,” she adds a little more quietly.
I laugh. She’s so cute, talking to the notecards as if they can hear her. She looks up at me and laughs a little.
“Thanks Matthew,” she says softly, her eyes shining happy now.
“Course,” I nod, happy to see her happy.
She gathers up her notecards and heads to the door, setting up a ride to Uber home. I grab what remains of our food and walk out with her. As we walk outside, Josie looks down at her watch and laughs.
“We have tutoring in like four hours.”
“Just enough time for basketball practice,” I reply, feigning a frown.
Josie nudges me with her elbow just as her ride pulls up. “I’ll see you soon?”
I give her a nod and watch her get in her ride before I head home myself.
Chapter 18
Josie Virginia.
“Matthew, focus, please.”
The library is going to close in ten minutes. Matthew and I have been here for hours, reviewing everything we can. My brain feels like spaghetti. Matthew rubs his forehead and then groans, pushing the biology textbook away from him.
“I’m gonna fail this fucking final.”
“No you aren’t.” I try to encourage him, pushing the book back towards him and pressing my pencil against the diagram featured on the page.
“It’s the final and I’m going to fucking fail.”
“You will if you keep saying that,” I reply, giving him my most serious look, urging him to focus.
“We haven’t had enough time with this stuff,” he says angrily, pointing his finger to the book.
“Matthew, please. Less complaining, more studying.”
With a grumble, he reluctantly looks down at the book. His jaw works as he thinks, too frustrated to invest himself completely. I manage to keep him focused until the end of our appointment. He’s in a rotten mood today and I feel bad about it. Something else must have happened today to make him so crabby. As we head out of the library, I try my best to cheer him up.