“Well have a seat,” he offered, gesturing to the few unoccupied lawn chairs that framed a fire pit in the middle of the yard. Given the twenty or so high school students loitering around the yard, it was a safe bet that Rider's parents weren’t home–again.
“If you guys want me to grill you a burger or something just let me know! Junk food is inside and drinks are in the coolers by the back door,” he said, pointing in the general direction.
Once Rider left us, we each settled into a lawn chair. Lacey leaned over to me and asked, “Do you see him anywhere?”
“Who?”
“Harlow,” she sighed, clearly annoyed that I even had to ask.
I scanned Rider’s backyard. If Harlow was here, he was doing a fabulous job of blending in with our fellow classmates. “I don’t see him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t here.”
“Always the optimist,” she said as she started to get up. “I’m going to check inside.”
“That’s right, go find your man!”
“Who’s your man?” someone spoke up from behind us.
Lacey's head turned slowly in my direction, her expression completely mortified.
His appearance caught both of us off guard. Harlow had all but materialized out of thin air as if he sensed we were talking about him. For a second, I found myself deliberating how much he might have overheard.
Lacey giggled nervously. “No one important,” she lied.
I started to get up so they could be alone. “I’m going to grab a drink.”
Leaving Lacey to work her magic, I walked to the patio to rummage through the coolers. Rider leaned casually against the house, near the back door, smoking a cigarette with a few other guys from school. Our eyes met and I smiled before continuing my search for a beverage.
“Hey, I never got another chance to ask,” Rider said as I dug around in the cooler for something that didn’t contain alcohol. “Did you figure it out? I mean...you know what I mean.”
I made a face at the cooler before standing to face him. “Everyone I've talked to about it seems to think Bethany Cavanaugh's signature drink had something to do with it,” I said, gesturing to the cooler of alcohol at my feet.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you think she put something in it?”
My stomach somersaulted at the suggestion. “I doubt it, do you really think she'd do something like that?” I replied in an uncomfortable tone.
Rider laughed. “Rayna, come on, don't be so naive. Bethany Cavanaugh is no Saint. We both know she rigged the outcome of initiation night, and that was nothing, so why not mess with your drink too? Just saying...”
The more I thought about it the more sense it made. Bethany had it out for me from the get-go. “That bitch!” I fumed. Just wait until I told Lacey and Arianna.
Rider squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t sweat it. I mean it sucks, but now the ball is in your court.”
“What are you getting at?” I asked with a sideways glance.
“She's got a sister, or a cousin, or whatever who is a year younger than us. You were chosen to lead next year's initiation. Use your powers for evil, Rayna Pierce,” he coaxed waving his fingers in front of me as if to summon something.
“I'll think about it,” I laughed. “Oh, and thanks for telling Harlow everything, by the way,” I said, pointing at him with my free hand.
Rider flashed me his infamous devilish grin. “I may or may not have mentioned it.”
“You suck,” I joked. I couldn’t be mad at him when he smiled at me like that. “Thanks for asking, though.” I smiled hoping it would hide my level of mortification. As I walked back to the fire pit, I wondered if a person had ever died of embarrassment because if one more person brought up my situation from that night, I would be six feet under. I had no choice but to accept the evidence as it stood and wanted nothing more than to move on at this point.
When I rejoined Lacey and Harlow, Lacey sat bent forward in her chair, holding her stomach and laughing about something Harlow must've said.
“What did I miss?” I asked, glancing back and forth between them intrigued to know more.
“Long story,” Harlow chuckled. “It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Don't ask, Ray,” Lacey said, trying to catch her breath. “Trust me, way too much information!”
I frowned in disappointment. “Okay then...pretend I didn’t ask.”
Not a second later, Ivy Branson called over to Harlow, and he excused himself. Those two had known each other virtually forever, and I found myself trying to assess if they were a couple. Shortly thereafter, Lacey caught sight of Vince Barnes, another one of her many crushes, and hurried off to go talk to him “before he got away.” So I sat by myself for what felt like an eternity searching for a familiar face to talk to, but the dark made it hard to distinguish people from a distance. I stared up at the moon and let my mind wander, closing my eyes and relaxing for several minutes.
“Did you know the moon is never bigger than your thumb?” Harlow asked from somewhere nearby. My eyes shot open and I found him sitting to my left.
I smiled a little. “I did not.”
“Have you ever tried it?”
“Nope, can’t say that I have.”
Harlow demonstrated by holding his thumb straight out in front of him, toward the moon. “See,” he said, “no bigger than my thumb.”
I tried it. “You’re right!” I giggled to myself, amused by the discovery.
Harlow glanced over his shoulder. “I see your friend has found a new person of interest.”
I followed his gaze to Lacey. She leaned against the house near the back door flirting with Vince—the hair flip was a dead giveaway. “I don’t mind being alone,” I allowed, waving a hand in her direction to show that it didn’t bother me. “I noticed you an Ivy talking,” I commented, in an effort to change the subject.
“Yeah,” he replied after a beat. “It's all business.”
At that, I felt awkward for bringing it up at all. “I'm not judging.”
After a brief silence, Harlow spoke again, “Hey, Rayna, do you want to get out of here?” he asked unexpectedly.
I scrutinized his face, unsure if he meant it or if he was just toying with me. That didn’t seem like Harlow, though. “I'm aware that you haven't lived here in awhile,” I started in on him in jest, “but this is Harbor Glenn. Where else could we possibly go?”
Harlow lifted his chin toward the woods that backed up to Rider’s yard.
“Isn’t it too dark?” I asked, realizing after the fact how stupid I must have sounded given that I had attended initiation night in the dark.
“I have a flashlight,” he said, patting the back pocket of his jeans.
I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. “And do you always just happen to carry a flashlight with you?”
“No,” he said, arching a dark eyebrow at me. “I just commandeered it from Rider’s kitchen.”
“Commandeered, huh?” I smiled.
Harlow pointed a finger at me. “Don't get any ideas,” he warned in jest, “this is a one-time thing. You like the woods; I like the woods…” he trailed off suggestively as he proceeded to walk backward toward the edge of the yard. “So, I figured, why the hell not. Unless...” Harlow paused in a suggestive tone, “you’re scared.”
A hard laugh escaped me. “I beg to differ! But what makes you so sure I like the woods?” I challenged.
Harlow seemed to appreciate this and responded with, “Not just anyone goes out there alone.”
He did have a point, but I wasn’t about to let him know it. “All right,” I agreed, getting up from my seat and abandoning my drink on the arm of the lawn chair. “Lead the way.”
I followed Harlow through the forest using the flashlight not so much as a guide but more or less so we could see each other—he seemed to have a destination in mind. “So what’s your story?” Harlow asked and the bluntness of his question caught me off guard.
I looked up at him. “
What do you mean?”
“Sorry,” he apologized as if he sensed my unease.
“No, it’s okay!” I allowed. “I was just trying to figure out where that question came from?”
“I find you...intriguing,” he stated.
I grimaced, a little embarrassed, hesitating a beat before answering. “Okay, well...I mean I guess it depends on what you want to know,” I began. “I’m what some might consider a bit of an overachiever. I’ve taken just about every A.P. and honors class our school offers because it will look good on my college applications. I used to be involved with student council and yearbook freshman and sophomore year. National honors society last year, and on top of that any other volunteer or extracurricular opportunity my parents have signed me up for since age fourteen.”
“Wow,” Harlow commented, massaging his jaw in thought. “Please tell me you’re not applying to Harvard or something.”
I gave him a distasteful look. “Not a chance. I’m not as Ivy League inclined as my parents would like.” I just hadn't told them yet.
“I have to say, that list you just ran off sounds more like a resume than your story. It’s cool that you’re involved, but that doesn’t tell me anything about you personally.”
I blushed at his boldness once again. “Was involved,” I corrected him. “That all ended last year. This year is all about applying and scholarships. No extracurricular distractions for me,” I said, mimicking my parents. “But I guess you’re right...” I trailed off, contemplating where to begin answering his question. “My favorite color is blue,” I said because it was the first thing that came to mind.
“Wow, that's deep,” Harlow responded, mocking me. “I feel like I know you on another level now.”
A breathy laugh escaped me. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to figure me out for yourself then!” I quipped hoping humor might change the subject. Talking about myself made me uncomfortable.
Harlow half smiled and the dimple appeared above the right corner of his mouth again. “Just so you're aware, I’m quite perceptive.”
I smiled. “Can’t argue with that.”
He nodded at the ground as we walked. “So you’ve noticed?” he asked and I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Asks the perceptive one.”
Harlow chuckled. “Touché.”
“What about you?” I wondered.
“My favorite color is green,” he said matter-of-factly.
I laughed, knocking his arm with the back of my hand. “That's not what I meant.”
Harlow shrugged, still laughing. “My list of accomplishments isn’t nearly as impressive as yours, but I haven’t applied to university yet. I don’t know if I’m cut out for that sort of thing. Even so, I might go to school back in Canada. It’s pretty up in the air right now. Complicated is putting it mildly.”
“Complicated,” I repeated taken aback. “You seem like a smart enough guy.”
Harlow chuckled. “Thanks for your vote of confidence.”
I wasn’t going to let him off that easy. “What’s so complicated?” I seriously wanted to know. Maybe I shouldn’t have pressed, but he seemed to have no problem diving into my private life at any given moment.
Harlow didn't seem the least bit fazed by the question. “I’m willing to bet you won’t give up until you find out.”
My eyebrows rose. “Is that a challenge?”
He seemed hesitant to answer right away. “If I say yes, will it keep you around?”
I couldn't decide if he was flirting or not so I just laughed—partly because I couldn’t believe he had said it and partly because I was flattered. “I haven’t decided yet,” I replied, playing coy.
Harlow’s hazel eyes lit up. “Is that a challenge?”
“I guess we’ll both just have to wait and see,” I smirked as it dawned on me that my behavior was a little flirtier with Harlow than I intended, and I made a mental note to back off. Lacey would kill me if she found out.
“Is something wrong?” Harlow probed, interrupting my thoughts.
“Not at all!” I said trying to hide my discomfort. “So, what do you think of my friend Lacey?” I asked, changing the subject.
“I’m not sure what you mean…” he trailed off, seeking an explanation.
“Well,” I said, drawing the word out. “she kind of has a crush on you! And I’m supposed to do recon, so spill!”
Harlow took a deep breath and my smile faded. “Well I had a feeling about the crush,” he began, his eyes trailing the ground as he walked. “Our run-in at Beach’s…”
“Yeah, she's not what I'd call subtle.”
“I’m flattered, honestly. She seems like a great girl,” he paused. And I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he thought of how to phrase a delicate rejection. “How do I say this without sounding like a complete jerk...” Harlow paused in thought. “As I said, things are complicated for me right now, so getting into a relationship isn’t in the cards for me any time soon.”
“Are you implying that I should let her know?”
“That’s completely up to you,” he said, holding his hands up as if to surrender.
We walked a little farther into the forest in silence. Harlow was easy to talk to, and I enjoyed his company, even when we weren’t talking. My mind circled back to his previous confession about him not looking for a relationship. It confirmed that our flirting was harmless, and put a rest to any link between him and Ivy, which in turn offered me a strange sense of relief.
We walked a little further in silence before Harlow broke it. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, testing the air between us.
Smiling a little at the ground I replied, “Nothing.” I looked up prepared to ask him the same, but he appeared lost in thought so I let him be. As we walked, my pace slowed, distracted by how beautiful the Harbor Glenn woods were at night, especially with the moon out.
Each bead of light streaming through the leaves at the ceiling of the forest looked like a bright string hanging from the sky. It seemed like if I just stood on my tiptoes, I could reach up and grab one to pull the moon down to us. Every so often a gust of wind would sprinkle a few red and brown leaves to the forest floor. I watched my feet, crushing all the big leaves as I walked and smiled to myself; I loved it out here.
In one quick motion, Harlow threw his arm out in front of me, jolting me from my thoughts and stopping me dead in my tracks.
He cursed under his breath.
Startled, I glanced sideways at him, trying to follow his gaze toward the trees up ahead. “What?” I asked, squinting into the distance.
Harlow looked down at me. “You have to get out of here, Rayna,” his tone urgent. If it weren’t for the alarm in his voice and his serious demeanor, I would have thought he was just trying to scare me.
“What’s going on? Was it something I said?” I asked, trying not to panic because I still didn't know what he was so concerned about.
Harlow spun me around so fast my stomach churned. Forcing the flashlight into my hand, he shoved me back in the direction we had come. “Get back to the party!” he ordered. “Now!”
I began to trot away, giving one last worried glance over my shoulder, but Harlow didn’t notice. “You’re not coming?” I asked in an attempt to catch his attention
When he looked at me again his expression was impossible to read. “I’ll be right behind you. Now go!”
We hadn’t gone so far into the woods that I couldn’t find my way back without him. Once I had gotten a fair enough distance away from where we had just been standing, I stopped and turned around to see if Harlow was behind me.
He wasn’t.
When I emerged from the woods back into Rider’s yard, panting and a little frazzled, it didn’t take long for people to spot me rejoining the party.
Lacey raced toward me. “Oh my God!” she said all too dramatic. “You just disappeared on me!” she exclaimed, grabbing my arms.
“I’m fine.”
> She eyed me suspiciously. “Were you with Harlow? Because no one has seen him for awhile either.”
The truth couldn’t hurt, so I said, “Yeah, we went for a walk.”
Victoria Brown, the senior class gossip notorious for digging up and dishing out Harbor Glenn High’s dirty little secrets, stood within earshot, gawking at my response with some sort of twisted pleasure.
“And were you alone with him?” Lacey asked her tone unpleasant and a little too judgmental.
“Well, yeah—”
Lacey's eyebrows formed a v. “So it was like a date.”
“What? No, of course not!” I replied, flabbergasted by the accusation.
“Well, thanks for nothing, Rayna.” Lacey scowled at me. “I’m over this party,” she huffed. “And you can find your own way home.” With that, Lacey turned her back on me and marched away.
chapter four
MY EXCHANGE WITH LACEY AT RIDER'S PARTY OVER the weekend seemed to be more serious than I had imagined because come Monday morning, Lacey still wouldn’t respond to any of my calls or texts. That was my first inkling that today was going to be a bad one. And to top it off, when I stepped out of the house, it started to rain.
“Great,” I muttered under my breath, making a run for the driver’s side door.
Dalyn sat in the car, fiddling with the radio as usual. I didn’t want to talk, so I turned up the volume and made my way to school.
Lacey managed to evade me all morning, but we had calculus together before lunch, so there wasn’t much we could do to avoid each other when we were stuck in the same classroom for nearly an hour. I entered the room after Lacey had already taken her seat, lingering at my desk for a bit before deciding to say something to her. As much as I hated confrontation, someone had to open the lines of communication between us otherwise we were doing nothing more than prolonging the inevitable.
Lacey didn’t look up from her agenda book when I approached her desk. “Still mad at me?” I asked, keeping my tone light, hoping to break some of the tension.
“I’m not mad at you, Rayna,” she replied, jotting something down. “I just expected better from you.” Her attitude was a tad harsh for someone who claimed not to be mad.
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