by Randi Rigby
My buddy, Ben, was eight and really frail. He kept blinking and could barely keep his eyes open in the bright sunlight. I placed my Blue Devils cap on his head. It dropped over his eyes and ears, making him laugh. “Come on, Ben,” I said. “Let’s go find us some eggs.”
I saw the look Harper threw Cal when he realized Jasmine was sitting alone on a bench. This is who she is—someone who talked nonstop about volunteering but wouldn’t actually do it. But Cal Adams had a heart big enough to feel sorry for her. The minute the hunt ended, and he’d seen his buddy back to his family, he found his way to her side. And she milked it for all she could—she was hot, she felt dehydrated, it was too crowded.
“Why can’t he see what we see?” Harper demanded. We were in her car, swinging back by the Community Center where Champs met, so she could return some supplies to their closet before heading to her place to change for the run. “Ugh! Boys are so stupid.”
“Hey, don’t look at me. I’m Team Larper.”
She swallowed her rant. “Why do you get to be first?”
“I’m taller.”
“I’m older.”
I put up my hands. “Fine. Team Huke.”
“Ew, that sounds like puke.”
“Thanks.”
She pulled into the parking lot and parked, draping herself over the steering wheel as she turned to me. “Luke, are you ever going to tell me what happened Thursday night after Hot and Wild?”
Flippin chicken. I raked a hand through my hair. I’d sent Ben home with my hat—who knew what I looked like now? Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to look at her. I couldn’t lie to her. “Probably not.”
She paused for a moment. “Did you tell Cal?”
“No.”
“Hmm.” She checked out her reflection in her rear-view mirror. “No man is an island, Drake,” she said, getting out of the car. She opened the trunk, handed me a box of supplies, and patted me on the cheek. “Thank you for coming to my TED talk.”
Jasmine opted out of the 5k, so we didn’t see her again until dinner.
In an effort to separate the two of them, Harper immediately stole her away from Cal with pageant talk. Mrs. Adams unwittingly played right into Harper’s plans, asking Jasmine all kinds of questions about what they could expect. I drug Cal out to the driveway to shoot some hoops, otherwise, he would’ve been perfectly content to plunk down next to Jasmine all night and just listen to her voice. Harper was right—we’d lost him.
We’d been going different directions and busy for much of the day. It wasn’t until we sat down for dinner that I noticed Harper’s parents suddenly seemed to be paying close attention to Harper and me. We were seated next to each other, mostly because Cal and Jasmine sat down first, claiming the chairs on the right side of the table. They were being unusually clingy. Even Dr. and Mrs. Adams seemed uncomfortable with the PDA. Harper looked like she was going to throw up. “These ribs are amazing,” I said in an attempt to break up the awkwardness.
“Do you need some more lemonade, Luke?” Mrs. Adams asked. “Harper, pour that boy some more.”
She stared at her mother. “He’s perfectly capable of pouring his own, Mom.” She handed me the pitcher.
I wasn’t actually that thirsty, and I still had plenty in my glass. “I’m good, thanks,” I said.
“Harper,” Mrs. Adams chided.
Harper tucked a dark wave of her hair back behind her ear and smiled very slowly at me, batting her eyelashes as she leaned in my direction. “Darling, please, let me serve you.”
I put my hand on her wrist to stop her from reaching for the pitcher. “Don’t.” I couldn’t keep the irritation from my voice. DON’T be rude to your mom. DON’T be obnoxious. DON’T call me darling.
She shrugged. “I don’t think Luke wants any more lemonade.” And she shook her hand free and returned to stabbing her salad with her fork.
After everyone else had gone out on the patio with their ice cream, I held Harper back. “Why are you doing this?” I demanded.
We stood alone by the kitchen sink. Harper had been caustic and snide all throughout dinner. I kept waiting for Dr. Adams to send her to her room—he’d certainly tried to catch her eye often enough—but Harper wouldn’t be caged.
“What?”
I lost it. “Don’t ‘what’ me. You’ve been acting like a spoiled brat all night.”
“Did you see them? They were practically making out. At our dinner table.” Her voice rose alarmingly. Seeing them now, just outside the window and definitely within hearing distance, I grabbed Harper’s wrist and hauled her into the library, shutting the door behind us so we wouldn’t be overheard.
“They’re going out,” I said, throwing my hands in the air.
“I know,” she said, and she looked miserable. “I hate it.”
“Well, guess what? Sometimes we don’t get everything we want in this life. Grow up, Harper!”
She rounded on me. “Are you telling me you’re okay with this? You like her?”
“No. I don’t. But Cal does. Maybe it’s time we back off and let him make his own mistakes.”
The poisonous green darts in her eyes were back. “I can’t believe I’m hearing you say this.”
“I can’t believe you still think throwing a temper tantrum is going to solve everything. What are you, twelve?”
“I am NOT throwing a temper tantrum.” Her voice grew increasingly fierce as the distance between us rapidly closed. “I am in PERFECT control.”
“You look it.”
“He’s my brother. I’m not going to just stand by and let her hurt him.”
“And you think being snotty all night won’t? He’s not stupid, Harp. Don’t make him choose between the two of you.”
“Psh. I’m not worried about that.”
“Maybe you should be.”
Her eyes narrowed into slits. “I hate you.”
I laughed, if you could call it that. “Yeah. I know. You’ve made that abundantly clear over the years.
She snatched a book off a nearby table. I recognized that grip.
“I thought we were past this,” I said, not taking my eyes off her hand. Defensive intervention had served me well in the past. Ducking, not so much.
To my complete surprise, she slowly clutched the book to her chest, then put it back down. “We are.” Turning on her heel, she moved away from me to face the window and the street outside. “Fine. I don’t need your help, Luke. I can take care of this all by myself.” She made her way to the library door and opened it, pausing briefly to look back at me. “So, I guess there’s no reason for us to keep up the pretense anymore. You’re officially off the hook for prom. I know how much you hate dances.”
I couldn’t believe it. “Are you breaking up with me?”
Her green eyes were blank pools. “Leave your infinity bracelet on the table or keep it as a souvenir.” Harper shrugged. “Either way, I don’t care.”
This wasn’t something I’d planned for. I had to walk all the way into town to an ATM and then back to the seedy motel on the outskirts of Sweet Mountain. It appeared to rent rooms by the hour, but it had the cheapest rates around.
Cal was understandably confused. I’d brought my backpack filled with clothes for the weekend, and we’d talked about me crashing in the guest room. He thought I’d decided to go back to my house—the one where I was no longer welcome. “You need a ride?” He was always quick to his feet, quick to offer. I loved this guy.
“No. Thanks.”
“Where’s Harper?”
“In her room.”
Cal threw me a look. He knew how his sister had been all night. I hoisted my backpack onto my shoulders. “I should get going.”
Jasmine seemed overly interested in these new developments. I felt an unholy desire to wring her scrawny neck.
“Take care of Harp for me?” I said, needing to get away.
Cal nodded.
Dr. Adams had nicknamed us his Three Musketeers when we were litt
le. All for One, and One for All. Maybe he was right, but sometimes it felt more like a curse.
9
Harper
I watched Luke walk away from my upstairs bedroom window and felt unaccountably empty inside. I stared at my reflection in the glass. “You’re a horrible person, Harper Adams.”
The minute I knew Jasmine was gone, I crept downstairs and found my parents sitting together in the living room. “Daddy,” I said, crawling onto his lap—being five foot ten and mostly knees and elbows, it wasn’t pretty. He made a lot of grunting noises while I got comfortable. “Sorry about tonight.” I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. “I was kind of a crazy person. Can you forgive me?” I hoped my sincerity was evident as I squished his cheeks together and kissed one.
“You weren’t very nice to your mother.”
“I was way out of line.” I rolled off him and sat down at her knees, wrapping my arms around them and resting my head on her lap. “Sorry, Mom. How can I make it up to you?”
“Did you and Luke patch it up?” Mom asked.
I stared at my hands. I was still wearing my infinity bracelet. “Actually,” I could feel my eyes filling with tears. “We sort of broke up.”
“What? Why?” Mom wanted to know.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I swiped at my eyes. “I’m a hot mess.”
Mom combed my hair out with her fingers, smoothing it away from my face as she sighed. “You’re just so impetuous, baby. If you’d only stop and think before you act . . . ”
I sniffed. “You sound just like Luke.”
“That kid has always had a good head on his shoulders,” Dad said. “No matter how many times you tried to knock it off.”
“Ha ha,” I responded glumly.
☆ ☽ ☆
I figured I’d apologize in person when he came over the next day for Easter Sunday. But Luke never showed. He sent Cal a text saying he couldn’t come this year and wished us all a happy Easter. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had an Easter without him.
“Do you think he wanted to celebrate with his own family?” I asked Cal as I sat down next to him on his bed. The thought boggled my mind. I’d never met his family. Obviously, he had one. He just spent so little time with them, that they seemed more like some sort of vague idea than a physical entity he actually went home to at the end of the day.
Cal solemnly shook his head. “Something’s wrong.” He looked at me. “What happened between the two of you last night?”
I felt the color rising in my cheeks. “We, um, had a fight.”
“Harper.” Cal began rubbing his temples. “What did I tell you?”
I glared at my twin. First of all, Luke was my fake boyfriend. Secondly, we’d only done it because Cal needed bubble wrapping and a reality check. Third, I couldn’t tell him any of this without him finding out how interfering I’d been. I was in no mood for a lecture from him. “I’d probably screw up?”
“I said, not to.”
“Yeah? Well, sorry, I’m not the perfect one.” Then a thought crossed my mind. “Maybe we should drop by his house? Maybe we could change his mind? You’re impossible to say ‘no’ to in person.”
“No.” Cal said it automatically, but I could see he was actually thinking about it.
“Take me with you.” I draped myself over his shoulder and gave him my best puppy dog eyes.
“No way.” He shook me off, stood up, and grabbed his keys off his dresser.
“You’re mean,” I called after him.
Cal got into his Jeep and drove away. I immediately activated the tracking device on his phone. It was for a good cause I told myself as I watched the little traveling red dot. Fifteen minutes later, I had an address: 2301 Bluebird Lane. Over two hours later, Cal came back without Luke; he couldn’t find him anywhere, the ham was done baking, and dinner was ready. Everything tasted delicious, but none of us felt like eating it.
First thing Monday, I hurried to Luke’s locker. He hadn’t responded to any of my texts, and I’d sent him several. I’d spent extra time in the bathroom that morning getting ready—I even curled my hair, which was ridiculous, the weather was spitty, and it threatened to pour. When you did a spring sport, you could count on being cold and wet a lot of the time. I had on my go-to green sweater, the one I always wore when I needed a confidence boost because I knew I looked good in it. My infinity bracelet remained securely fastened to my wrist.
“Here.” I handed him a packet wrapped in parchment paper.
He took it without looking at me.
“They’re apology sandwiches,” I said.
That brought his eyes up. He stared at me for a moment and then back down at the packet. “They look like ham to me.”
“That’s because they are. Mom wants me to keep them in the staff room fridge for you so you don’t end up with food poisoning—Dad keeps taking our ice packs to work and forgetting to bring them home. We also brought you pie—apple, your favorite. We missed you at dinner yesterday.”
“I was busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Things,” he said, closing his locker door. He gave me the sandwiches back.
“I’m sorry, Luke.” I stared at the toes of my leather ankle boots and then forced myself to look him in the eye, desperate for his forgiveness, wanting more than anything to get back to the intimacy we’d shared when he’d traced my hand under the table at the restaurant. “Really. I’m the worst.”
He shrugged and jerked his head the other direction. “My class is this way.”
“See you around?” I said hopefully, but he just walked away.
How did it go? Erika’s text came through as I slipped into English Lit.
He hates me.
She sent me the rolling eyes emoticon. So what else is new?
This time it hurt. We’d had flaming fights before—many—but for once, I knew regret. I couldn’t stop thinking about the track meet and that night at Hot and Wild. Luke’s intense stare and slow smile were burned into my brain. It felt like a window had cracked open and briefly illuminated the bits and pieces that made up Luke Drake. And I’d just slammed it shut. With a groan, I buried my head in my arms over the top of my desk. Jam donuts. I was my own worst enemy.
Cal had strict instructions to hold onto Luke until I could deliver his lunch to him. Erika came as moral support. “How do I look?” I asked her, nervously licking my lips. Cal and Luke were sitting on a bench just outside the commons. With Jasmine.
Erika did a quick check. “Gorgeous.”
That’s what best friends are for.
My hands were full. I tossed my hair to push it back behind my shoulders and took a deep breath. Jasmine’s eyes were locked on Luke—until she noticed him watching me approach. Her head turned, and she leaned back slightly, ready to enjoy the show. She almost looked like she wished she’d thought to bring popcorn. “As promised,” I said, clearing my throat and putting the lunch box in his hands.
“Tell your mom, thanks,” Luke said, his attention now fully on the blue, soft-sided carrier.
Actually, I’d been the one who’d gotten up early and made his lunch. I’d even taken pains to make his sandwiches the way he liked them: toasted bread, spicy mustard on the ham side, a slice of Swiss, then thinly sliced avocado followed by a sprinkle of alfalfa sprouts and a layer of butter lettuce. “Sure,” I swallowed.
“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I take this and run, but Coach asked me to stop by his office.” Luke was already getting to his feet. He didn’t even wait for a response, but he didn’t need to. I got the feeling I couldn’t have stopped him if I’d tried.
“Looks like someone couldn’t wait to get out of here,” Jasmine said, watching him leave with a smug smile on her face.
Erika squeezed my arm.
Right. Operation: Save Cal. I gritted my teeth and cleared my throat. “So, you said we should practice walking?” Apparently, getting around in an evening gown on stage in front of judges took training. You
couldn’t just walk. “The pageant’s in two weeks. I kind of think I should get on this. What’s after school looking like for you?” Cal suddenly had an abnormal amount of free time available. Practice for both of us had been canceled because of the rain.
The only thing Jasmine seemed to like more than drooling over Luke was bossing me around. I think that might’ve been her sole motivation for dragging me into this—that and showing me up. She considered this. “I guess I can make time. You want to come too, Bear?” Her eyes lit up with some sort of teasing promise that had Cal dropping his jaw as she rubbed his earlobe.
I quickly put the kibosh on them being together. “Yeah. Nooo. Maybe later, when I get good at this, then you can watch. But give me a break. I don’t need an audience my first time.”
Jasmine made a pouty face at him. Blech.
“So, what should I bring? And where do you want to do this? Your place?” I wanted to hurry this along before she changed her mind.
She sighed heavily, like she was resigning herself to the sacrifice she was about to make. “Sure. Bring your shoes and dress.”
My gown hadn’t come in yet. We’d had to order one online because I’d refused to cave on the no sparkles, no meringue, and no cleavage. The last thing I needed to worry about with the entire town watching was whether or not my boobs were showing. Why wasn’t there a segment where you could wear footie pajamas? Mom said she guessed it was to test your composure. I wasn’t sure this was a life skill that would prove useful. How often did a girl get grilled about important social issues in an evening gown and hairspray?
When I stopped by the house after school, Cal’s Jeep was already parked in the garage. I raced upstairs and grabbed my heels and the dress I’d planned on wearing to prom out of my closet. I felt a slight pang as I pulled the hanger out—Erika helped me find this dream. The designer called it “Ashes of Rose,” but that just seemed like a fancy way of saying pink. When I tried it on, I immediately felt like I’d transformed into a princess. Not because it was in any way frothy or excessive, it just made me want to stand a little taller, to move a little more gracefully. I wanted to be worthy of it.