Harp's Song (20 page)

“Harp, let’s go,” Connor pleads. “Let me take you home. This isn’t you.”

I look at him and search his eyes, “No. I’m good here. Go back to your friends.”

“You can’t be serious!” He says exasperated, “Are you drunk?”

I step toward him so that I’m facing him, “I am serious Connor. Just leave.”

His face says it all. I’ve crushed him … again. He steps closer to me and puts his hand on my neck pulling me close to him while he whispers in my ear, “I love you. I’m always here for you … no matter what.”

Connor’s words seep in to me, and my body is on fire after feeling him so close to me. But, I push away from him and as soon as I do, Vincent pulls me into him, happy to show Connor that he won this pissing contest. He sneers at Connor and Ethan as we walk out of the bar and he takes me straight home. Once he throws the gear into park, I start to get out of the car, but he pulls me back down.

“Whoa there! Where do you think you’re going so fast?”

“I’m going inside my house.” I tell him slightly buzzed and confused.

“Don’t you want your reward?”

“I don’t really care, Vincent.”

“Oh, sure you do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t still be doing this with me,” he taunts me waving some of the money we made tonight in my face.

I snatch what’s mine from his hand pulling away from him and open my door to see my mom standing there. How embarrassing.

“Hi there, just checking to see if everything is ok in here,” she says leaning into the car, “I’m Harp’s mom, Anne and you must be Vincent.”

“Yes ma’am, I’m Vincent,” he says more politely than I’ve ever heard him speak before. “I should get going. I’ll call you later.”

I barely get the door shut before he backs out of my driveway. I turn and go into the house with my mom following close behind me.

“Harp, I don’t like that boy. I can tell he’s trouble.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about mom.” I slur.

“Have you been drinking?”

“I don’t know.” I answer sarcastically.

“Don’t play dumb with me. He’s never come to the door to get you or made any effort to meet me. You’ve changed since you’ve been hanging out with him, and this is the second time you’ve blown the Johnson’s off. This isn’t like you.”

She thinks she knows me … now that’s funny.

“And, I could see the look in his eyes tonight … he’s trouble.”

I turn around to face her and yell, “So, you’re pulling the overprotective mom card on me now? You don’t know the first thing about me or Vincent for that matter, so just back off.”

I see her flinch and know I’ve made my point clear. I go to my room and slam the door shut. The rest of the weekend passes quietly and when school starts on Monday, my life continues like it has been with Vincent at my locker.

I have Vincent take me home after school today because my mom says she has to work late. So when he drops me off and I walk into my house I’m confused to see her, Catherine, and Connor in my living room. Six eyes are staring at me and I stop dead in my tracks.

“What are you doing here?” I ask to no one in particular.

Catherine steps forward, “Harp, we are here because we love you and want to talk to you.”

“What the hell?” I say, “Is this some sort of intervention?”

No one answers me until Catherine has pulled me into the living room, and I’m sitting next to her on the couch. I look between all their faces and wait for someone to say something.

“Harp,” my mom says, “I know I haven’t been a good mother to you …” her voice trails off and she looks down to swipe some tears from her eyes before looking back up at me. “But, I love you and I’m worried about you. You’ve been withdrawn and angry and I didn’t know what to do. I called Catherine and we’ve been meeting to talk about everything and in particular, what we can do to help you right now.”

I pull away from Catherine and fold my arms over my chest. This is a freaking intervention. How dare they! It’s not like I’m on drugs or anything for crying out loud.

Catherine speaks next, “Harp, I know things are hard for you right now. You have a bright future ahead of you and we don’t want to see you do anything to jeopardize that. I know you’re young and think you are invincible, but all it takes is one wrong turn, and your life is changed forever. We love you and want to help you.”

I stare at her while she talks but I don’t say anything. Catherine has always been kind to me, but I have nothing to say. Anger and hurt are boiling over inside me. I turn to look at Connor and stare into his eyes. He’s bent over in his chair with his elbows on his knees.

“It’s your turn now, right? I mean this is how this goes?” I spit out at him.

He runs both of his hands through his hair, before returning them to his knees and clears his throat.

“Baby, please …”

“Don’t. Call. Me. Baby.” I clip out at him.

He flinches but regains his control, “Harp, please, stop doing this to yourself. Vincent isn’t good for you. He’s just using you. You’re better than this.”

And then I snap.

“What the hell do you know?” I yell at him and look at the rest of them. “Last time I checked, this is my life, and I’ve done a damn good job of getting myself to this point, so I know what I’m doing. Nothing is going to change so you can go now. Thanks for coming by though.”

I stand up but Connor is in front of me with his hands on my arms.

“Sit. Down.”

“No. And get your hands off me. I don’t think Taylor would appreciate it if she found out you were here.” I throw in his face. I catch a look of confusion on his face before Catherine pulls me back to the couch with her.

“Harp, we just want to help.” She says. “I understand that you and Vincent have been playing pool at JJ’s and winning a good amount of money?”

I shake my head yes.

“Honey, that’s not healthy or smart. He’s using you. He doesn’t know the real you, that’s hiding in there.” She says pointing to my heart. She is right. But I know exactly what Vincent wants from me, and it’s easy to meet his expectations.

My mom clears her throat, “I know all about self-destructive behavior. It’s what I did for most of your life. I know that’s what you are doing. And I understand the hurt you must be feeling now, but it doesn’t change who you are. You are still a beautiful, talented, smart, caring, warm girl and …,” her voice breaks, “I just want that girl back.”

“Stop hiding from everything Harp,” Connor says, “We can help you, or get you help to deal with everything.”

“You have no freaking clue about what I’m dealing with,” I yell at him. They have all pushed me over the edge. “I am not the same person I was two months ago. That girl is gone … dead. Everything has changed including me. Now, get the hell out of my house!”

I am shaking—I’m so mad. I can feel the heat on my chest and face as I wait for Connor and Catherine to leave, but neither of them stands to go anywhere.

“I know what you’re dealing with Harp,” he says quietly.

“No, you don’t.” I snap back at him.

He closes his eyes and sighs before opening them again. “I do, Harp. I know the guy from The Sommers’ party was him … um, your dad.”

I am shocked.

“I understand that you are upset. You have every right to be. What you found out was a total shock, and then when you saw him …” He trails. “I can only imagine what that did to you. I know why you pulled away from everyone. But, Harp, you have to see how bad Vincent is for you. He’s pulling you down further … please don’t go back to JJ’s with him. Please.”

I absorb the sincerity in his voice and see it in his eyes. But when I hear his phone ding I remember his betrayal. The memory of him and Taylor kissing comes flooding back.

I stand and look at him, “Get out of my house … now!”

Connor looks startled but I stand my ground and eventually he gets up and leaves with Catherine. I look at my mom who is silently crying in her chair. I want to scream at her, but instead I turn to go to my room.

“Harp,” My mom’s voice stops me on my tracks. She sounds pained, so I turn around to look into her eyes. She looks down and takes a deep breath. “Harp, I’m sick.”

I spent the last few days in a numb daze ignoring everyone, which was hard since I was surrounded by crazed seniors. Today was the last day of school and now I’m in Vincent’s car while I half listen to him tell me how tonight should go down. Mom tried to convince me not to go with him but it didn’t work. I left my house, slamming the door in her face, my signature move these days.

All I can hear are her words in my head on repeat, “I’m sick.”

Sick. What an ordinary word. I’ve been sick dozens of times. Colds, the flu, sore throat, etc. But when she said sick, I knew deep in my aching heart, that she didn’t mean any of those.

Breast cancer. That’s what she’s got. There is a tumor inside her that is poisoning her from the inside out. And what am I doing? I’m replaying all our conversations and all her apologies. They make more sense now, obviously. But instead of going to her and making things right, I’m back in Vincent’s car going to JJ’s. Call it denial or just plain selfishness, but I can’t deal with this on top of everything else.

When we get to the parking lot at JJ’s, Vincent throws his arm around my waist and we walk into the bar together. I notice that there are a lot more people here tonight, I guess to watch this showdown. We walk to the pool table usually reserved for the really good players where we greet our opponents, Bob and Chuck. Both are burly men. Bob is the guy we played last week, and I don’t recognize Chuck, but he must be good in order to be here.

It doesn’t take a genius to know Bob is out for blood tonight, and he wouldn’t have a partner that couldn’t kick ass.

When I shake Bob’s hand, he lingers and his eyes peruse my body. He leans in to me, “I don’t think he’s man enough for ya, darlin’. Let me know when you’re ready for a real man.”

Vincent pulls me away from him and I ignore them to take a few practice shots before Bob racks the balls. The guys have laid down their money and settled on the rules. Bob and Chuck go first.

While I watch, I scan the crowd around us. My heart startles when I skim over a pair of simmering green eyes.

Connor.

I can’t believe he’s here. It shouldn’t surprise me—I knew on some level he would be worried about me.

Chuck goes next and I pull my gaze from Connor to watch the game. Chuck is good, but not better than me. Or maybe he’s just holding back.

I go next and hit the easiest shots before we go around again. While I’m busy studying Bob I can’t help but keep tabs on Connor. He’s not in the front part of the group watching us, but he’s still here watching me. Suddenly Vincent is pulling me into him.

“I think they are hustling us so we win this round and then they challenge us to another one.” he tells me.

“But, the plan is to win right? We don’t need a second game to prove anything. Let’s just win and get out of here.” I respond.

“I think we can do better than that, don’t you?” he sneers and quirks an eyebrow at me.

“What do you want to do?”

“Let’s turn the tables on them. Let’s lose this one then I’ll challenge him to another one and double up our money.”

“Fine. Whatever. You’re up.”

We lose the first game like Vincent wanted and while he sets up the second game I turn to see Connor still standing off to the side watching me. When the second game starts, the feel in the air shifts and becomes suffocating. This is now a serious game with high stakes. I play my part and do well. With each round, it becomes apparent to me that I am much better than Chuck, even though he’s magically gotten better. We easily win.

“You little shit. You hustled us again,” Bob says shoving Vincent so hard he falls back into the crowd.

“A deal is a deal. You brought your ace and I brought mine. I don’t see what the problem is old man.” Vincent sneers at him after he’s recovered from the push. He’s facing Bob, arms at his sides and chest puffed up. I’m standing on Vincent’s right when I see Bob’s fist coming around. Vincent ducks, but it’s too late for me to avoid the blow.

The force of the impact sends me straight to the ground. I feel my head bounce off the hard concrete floor as I hear screaming, and see a blur of shuffling feet.