Through to You (9 page)

Two. Whole. Weeks.

I never realized how long two weeks could be, and I've had a lot of long two weeks. Like the last two weeks of school. Or freshman year, when my mom found a weird lump in her throat and they thought maybe she had thyroid cancer, and by the time she went in for an ultrasound and got the tests results back saying she was fine, it had been two weeks and I was going absolutely crazy.

So it's not like I don't know that fourteen days can be a long time.

The problem, I think, is that this time there's no end in
sight. I knew, with my mom, that we would find something out at some point. And with school ending, I knew the waiting wasn't going to last forever.

But this—I don't know when (or if) it's going to end.

I'm acting like I don't care. I'm acting like I'm not even thinking about it, when in actuality it's
all
I can think about. The way Penn's lips felt on mine, the way his arms encircled my waist, the way the air smelled like rain and early summer, the way he'd somehow known exactly what food to get for our picnic.

He's acting like nothing happened between us, acting like he doesn't even know me, acting like he didn't put a stupid note on my desk saying he liked my sparkle and then stalked me down at work before whisking me off on a picnic, where he kissed me without me even asking him to.

Why?
Why
is he acting this way?

Trying to figure out why a person would do something like that, while simultaneously pretending you don't care, when it's all you can really think about, is completely exhausting.

“I just don't know what song I should do,” Anna's saying. “What do you think, Harper?”

“For what?” I ask.

We're sitting outside at McDonald's during our lunch period. Juniors and seniors are allowed to leave during lunch, as long as we stay on the main street near school. How they think they're going to enforce this, I have no idea, since it's not like they can follow every one of us and try to figure out where it is we're spending our lunch period.

“For my Juilliard application!” She throws her hands up and looks over at Nico, who's sitting next to me. “Is she spacey lately, or what?”

“She's definitely spacey lately,” Nico says, nodding. It figures he would take her side. This is why I hate when the three of us hang out. “What's going on, Harper?”

“Nothing!” I say.

“I think it has to do with Penn,” Anna says. She leans over and studies me, then rests her chin on her hands. The long sleeves of her gauzy black shirt almost skim the pile of ketchup she's set up near her fries.

“It is not about Penn!”

“It's definitely about Penn,” Nico says, like he knows something about it.

“Def,” Anna agrees. Then they start to do this thing they do sometimes that really annoys me. They talk about me like I'm not there. I know Anna does it because it makes her feel closer to Nico, and I know she doesn't mean anything by it. But still. It's irritating as hell.

“I think they had sex,” Nico says.

“No way,” Anna says. She picks up a fry and twirls it around in the air, like she's contemplating. “Harper wouldn't have had sex with him. She'd make him wait. But they might have kissed.”

“I don't know,” Nico says. “Harper might have been too smart for that.”

“Too smart?” Anna asks.

“Yeah,” Nico replies, then takes a sip of his soda. “She knows Penn is the kiss-'em-and-leave-'em type. So she might have slept with him just to make sure she got what she could, while she could.”

“Penn's not like that,” I say before I can stop myself. I can't help it. I don't like them saying bad things about him, even though they're obviously true. Penn must be the kiss-'em-and-leave-'em type. I mean, look what he's doing to me.

“Oooh, I think she's sticking up for him,” Anna teases.

“She is,” Nico says. “She's sticking up for him even though he's a total douche.”

“He's not a douche,” I say.

“He is,” Nico says. “He used to be a total douche when he was on the baseball team, walking around like he was this big man on campus, and then as soon as he got hurt, he dropped all his friends and became angry.” He rolls his eyes. “What a baby.”

“I don't know. I think it's kind of sexy the way he's always walking around scowling,” Anna says. She glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “And I think Harper does too.”

She's right. I do like the way Penn is always scowling. Every once in a while, though, I'll catch him smiling, and it makes my heart skip. Not that I look at him all that much. Only when I know I can get away with it, which isn't that often, since he sits behind me in the one class we have together. Which is another added pressure. I'm always worried that he's looking at me in class, so I make sure that I'm sitting up
straight, and that my hair is falling perfectly down my back. Which I know is ridiculous, because there's no way he's even looking at me. And the reason I know this is because anytime I've been looking at
him
, he's not looking at me. Not even once.

“Oooh, she's getting red,” Anna says, elbowing Nico.

But he's already bored of the conversation, and he's texting on his phone.

“I'm not getting red,” I say, even though I can feel my cheeks heating up. I'm annoyed, so I crumple my paper fry container into a little ball and wipe the salty grease off my fingers with a napkin. “I think I'm going to go back to school. I have a paper to work on anyway.”

“Oh, come on, Harper,” Anna says. “Don't take it so personally. We were just goofing around. Weren't we, Nico?”

She turns to him for help, but she's lost him. He's still texting on his phone, probably with his friends from the basketball team, or one of the girls he's always trying to get with.

“I'm out,” he says, standing up and totally ignoring Anna's comment. He turns and looks at me. “We were just teasing you, Harper,” he says, his eyes softening. “Sorry if you're upset.” He squeezes my shoulder as he passes by. “I'll text you later.”

“Okay,” I say. I appreciate that he's saying he's sorry. But I'm still hurt.

I wad my napkin up and take the last sip of my Diet Coke. “I'm going to go,” I say. I stand up, not really wanting to get into a fight with Anna, but not wanting to let her off the hook either. It's one thing for Nico to mess around with me—he's a
stupid, clueless boy who already has something against Penn—but it's another thing for Anna to do it.

“Harper, come on,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I said I'm sorry.”

“It's fine.” I shrug, but I can feel the anger dissipating and turning into hurt. Tears poke at the backs of my eyes, and I turn and blink them away. And that's when I see them.

Penn. And Sienna Malcolm. They're sitting at the same table, their legs touching as she licks an ice cream cone. There's a box of chicken nuggets on the table in front of them. Penn grabs for one, and Sienna pushes his hand away playfully.

I turn back toward Anna, and she sees it on my face.

“Harper, I'm sorry. I swear, if I had known it was going to make you this upset, I wouldn't have—”

I shake my head. “It's not you,” I say.

“Then what?”

I give a slight nod to the side, over to where Penn and Sienna are sitting. Anna looks, and her eyes widen. “Oh,” she says. “Okay.” She nods, getting it, finally.

She takes my hand and starts leading me to the parking lot.

The only good part of the whole thing is that we're out of there before Penn has a chance to see me.

I saw her. I saw Harper, and I'm pretty sure she was upset.

Not that I blame her.

I've been acting like a complete and total asshole.

I kissed her, and then I didn't talk to her for two weeks.

I kept telling myself that I would, that I'd call her or text her, or say hi to her at school, or maybe even show up at her dance studio. But I didn't do any of those things.

After a few days I told myself it was because of my dad. He's still not home, and no one knows where he is. My mom is baking more than ever. But after a few days of that, I realized what it really was.

I was scared. Harper was someone I could get attached to. Someone who would want to talk about things, who might
want to get close. And I don't want that. Not now. Probably not ever.

But now, seeing her face like that, all upset, makes me feel like a stake is being driven through my heart.

“You need to buy me more chicken nuggets,” Sienna says.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, taking another one. “Why's that?” I'm distracted, watching as Harper's friend Anna leads her toward the parking lot.

“Because you're eating mine!” She reaches over and grabs the nugget out of my hand and pops it into her own mouth. Then she goes back to texting on her phone.

This is about as deep as my conversations with Sienna get, which is probably one of the reasons I like hanging out with her. She doesn't ask questions. Ever. She doesn't care about where I am or who I'm with. She doesn't care if we hook up one night and then I don't call her for a few weeks or if I turn up at her house out of nowhere.

I watch Harper and her friend for a few more seconds, and then before I know what I'm doing, I'm standing up.

“I have to go,” I say to Sienna.

She shrugs. “Okay. Call me later if you want.”

“Sure.”

And then I'm following Harper and Anna down the sidewalk.

Their heads are huddled kind of close together, and Harper's talking in a low voice as they walk to Anna's car.

“Hey,” I say as I mosey on up. I put on my most charming
voice, the voice that used to get me anything I wanted when I was on the baseball team. I reach out and tug a strand of Harper's hair.

She turns around, shock registering on her face. Well. At least it's not hatred, which I've had my fair share of. “Miss me?” I ask brightly.

It's the wrong thing to say.

Harper's eyes narrow into little slits. Wow. She actually looks quite scary giving me the evil eye like that. Maybe Harper isn't quite as innocent as I thought she was. She looks capable of killing someone right about now.

“What do you want?” Anna asks. She crosses her arms over her chest. Suddenly I'm kind of afraid. Anna looks like the type of girl who might haul off and punch you right in the face.

“Just to talk to Harper,” I say.

I'm talking to Anna, but I'm looking at Harper. Harper shakes her head slightly. I'm not sure if she's saying
No, I don't want to talk to you
or if she's just shaking her head in disbelief, like she can't believe I have the nerve to come over here and try to talk to her. Which is kind of an overreaction on her part. I mean, yeah, I didn't call her after kissing her, but still. It's not like I pledged my undying love to her or anything. It was one kiss. But girls are sensitive about that kind of stuff.

“Harper doesn't want to talk to you,” Anna says.

I ignore her. I understand that she's looking out for her friend, but the last thing I want to do is start getting into
something where I'm communicating with Harper through Anna.

“Harper?” I ask. “Do you want to talk to me?”

She bites her lip, and I can see her considering. Then, finally, she shakes her head.

I'm surprised to find that it cuts through me like a knife. “Why not?” I demand.

She looks at me incredulously. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yeah. Don't you think we should talk?”

“After two weeks?
Now
you want to talk?”

“Yeah.” I shrug. “Two weeks isn't that long.” It really isn't, when you think about it. Fourteen days? Pfft, that's nothing.

“When you kiss someone it is!” she says.

I glance over at Anna, who's looking at Harper with a shocked look on her face. Okay, so Harper didn't tell her that we kissed. Why not? Did she not like the kiss? The kiss, as far as I'm concerned, was amazing. And I know it wasn't my imagination. I'm a very good kisser. Some would say excellent, even. It's kind of what I'm known for.

“I can explain,” I say.

“Explanations are for people who have done something wrong,” Anna retorts.

Again I answer her, but I'm looking at Harper. “I
have
done something wrong,” I say. And then, before I even know I'm saying it, I whisper, “Please, Harper. Let me explain.”

I see her face soften, and then, finally, she nods.

“No.” Anna shakes her head. “No. I'm not letting you.”

“Anna, it's okay,” Harper says. “I'll meet you back at school.”

“How are you going to get back there?”

“I'll take her,” I say. I have my truck, and Sienna drove her own car.

Anna opens her mouth, like maybe she wants to say something else, but then she thinks better of it. “Fine,” she says finally. “But you better text me and let me know you got back to school okay.”

“I will.”

Anna's looking at me like I'm a serial killer, instead of just some high school boy who kissed a girl and then didn't call her for two weeks.

After one last glare she turns and walks away.

“Wow,” I say, turning back to Harper. “Your friend is a little overprotective.”

“Not really,” she says.

Okay, then. “Hi,” I try, giving her a smile.

But she doesn't smile back.

“How've you been?”

“Where's Sienna?” she asks.

“Back at our . . . I mean, at the table.”

“You're just going to leave her there?”

“It's not just leaving her there,” I say. “She has a car. We didn't drive over together.”