I park behind the car in the circular driveway, eyeing it suspiciously as I hop up the steps to Harper’s door. Just as I’m about to raise my hand to knock, a shout echoes through the door, loud and angry.
Instead of knocking, I opt to just walk in. Harper’s wrath be damned. The voices carry from the kitchen, and Harper’s voice is hushed as if calming an angry person. Honestly, I’m a little concerned I’m able to walk right in without Honey’s notice. Doesn’t exactly seem safe.
Harper stands in the kitchen, arms crossed, a look of absolute vitriol on his face. An older woman with strawberry-blonde hair stands across from him, a pinched, angry look on her face.
“I just think that I should’ve found out from you that you had another seizure, not from my cousin.”
“I understand,” Harper says slowly as if he’s speaking to a rabid dog with no ability to reason. “Next time, I’ll tell you the moment after I wake up covered in piss.”
“Harper!” The woman shouts while throwing her hands in the air. “I’m your mother, I give a shit. Fuck me, right?”
“Sorry for interrupting,” I say loudly, not sorry at all.
Relief colors Harper’s face for one single moment before he steels himself again. The woman turns around to stare in obvious confusion at my presence in her son's kitchen. Her gaze pings from me to Harper, clearly waiting for an explanation that Harper is not going to give.
“We have a date tonight,” I cautiously remind Harper.
Harper sighs loudly, then firmly pinches the bridge of his nose. “Thank you, Jackson.”
“A date?” his mother asks softly, gaze steady on me.
I send her a shy wave, hoping to make myself seem likable. Should be pretty easy. I’ve been told I’m plenty likable. The tension breaks with a snap as she steps forward with her hand extended. We shake hands briefly, her grip firm. She turns back to Harper with a tremulous smile.
“You could tell me things like this,” she says softly, then turns back to me. “I’m Olivia.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Jackson, Harper’s boyfriend.”
Harper blows a very loud raspberry. “Mother, we were going out. Can I see you out?”
Harper ushers Olivia out with a strong grip on her slim shoulders. A few whispers reach my ears, but I can’t make out the words. A moment later, Harper returns to the kitchen, a fake smile plastered on his face.
“Hi.” Harper leans up on his toes to kiss my jaw.
I cup his shoulders and tug him away to look into his tired eyes. “Did you have another seizure?”
Harper visibly rankles at my question. He shrugs out of my grip with a sneer.
“I’m not talking about this.”
“Who are you going to talk to, then?” I say loudly until he turns to face me again. “If not me, not your parents, then who?”
“Listen, I’ve got it all under control, Jackson. If this is how you’re going to be, then let's end it right now.”
I snort with a roll of my eyes. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you.”
This time, Harper does sneer. “What does that mean?”
“You’re just waiting for me to run, so it’s easier if I do it now, right? Before you invest any more emotions or any more time, cut and run. I’m not fucking going anywhere, buttercup. You can either tell me what’s going on, or I’ll find out from the people you do tell. Andy? I know she knows.”
Harper screams at the top of his lungs, fists curled into tight balls at his sides. The action is so surprising that I startle just a little, but I stand unmoving, unafraid of whatever fury he can unleash on me. The scream stops, only to turn into a whimper of a cry. A tear tracks down his cheek, but he angrily wipes it away as if we both won’t notice it.
“Harper,” I whisper, worry about him choking me.
Harper holds out a trembling hand to prevent me from stepping close. I respect his wish and stay where I am, waiting for him to come to me. A few minutes slip by, but just as I thought, once the anger fades and the tears disappear, my Harper stands before me. He crosses the space between us and throws his entire weight against me. I fold my arms around him, cradling his head in the palm of my hand.
“It’s okay,” I murmur into his ear, lips caressing his skin.
“I didn’t have another seizure, not since our date,” Harper admits, fingers curling tightly into my sweater as if to anchor himself to me. “She’s just mad that she found out about that one from Cindy.”
