by Jordan Ford
I scowl at him, then turn back to Harley as she wipes a shaking hand across her mouth and starts to stand. She’s trembling, and I sweep her into my arms again. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get her into the house.
“Do you have a key?”
“In my pocket.”
I glance down at her saturated clothing and won’t be shocked if the key is now sitting on the ocean floor.
With a grunt, I lift her higher into my arms and try the door before having to squirm my fingers into her jean shorts.
The handle creaks but then pops open.
“Is your mom home?”
“I don’t know.” Harley’s head flops against my shoulder and I creep into the house.
“Ms. Quinn?” I softly call.
But no one answers. I try two more times, only to confirm that the house is empty.
Stepping over a pile of unfolded laundry in the middle of the living room floor, I turn sideways through the door which I assume leads to the bedrooms.
The place is tiny, with old decor that’s peeling and frayed at the edges. Burnt orange and yellow carpet with brown swirls, patterned wallpaper that makes you feel cross-eyed. This house is like an acid trip. An old, fading acid trip that hasn’t been shown an ounce of love and care in years.
I swallow, suddenly understanding why Harley was so quiet and awestruck when she walked into my pristine white house.
Spotting a bathroom at the end of the hall, I head in that direction. I know Harley wants bed, but I can’t lay her down on her mattress soaking wet and reeking of puke. I need to clean her up first, but as I place her down on the bathroom floor, I wonder how comfortable she’ll be with me undressing her. She’s basically falling asleep at my feet and I’d be completely justified, but how will Harley feel when she wakes up in the morning and knows I’ve seen her naked?
“I’ll clean her up.” I glance over my shoulder and see Savannah standing in the doorway. She tips her head sideways, silently ordering me out of the bathroom. “Can you find her some dry clothes?”
“Sure.” I give her a grateful smile, then quickly find what has to be Harley’s bedroom. The door is open already, the walls covered with surfing posters. Her bed is unmade, her desk in disarray. One of the bookshelves is broken and sitting askew, with books piled up beside it.
I notice a pale yellow T-shirt sticking out from under her pillow. Assuming it’s her pajamas, I race over and tug it out, then unearth a pair of cotton boxer shorts. I run them back to Savannah, who is crouched over Harley with a damp cloth in her hand.
“Thanks,” she murmurs.
“I’ll just wait outside. Call me when you’re done.”
She nods and gives me a sad smile before flicking the door closed with her foot.
I pace the narrow hallway, biting the inside of my cheek as I walk to what is probably Ms. Quinn’s room. The door is shut, so I can’t really tell. The place is so tiny, it only takes me about five strides to get from one end of the hallway to the other.
Man, this little box is so different to my house.
Harley no doubt felt intimidated as I walked her through what I thought was a simple, modern kitchen and living area. Shit, I really have no idea. Me in my sheltered little world.
The bathroom door clicks and I spin.
“She’s asleep.” Savannah points over her shoulder. “You want to carry her to bed?”
I nod and slip past Savvy, crouching down to cradle Harley against me. She’s softly snoring, which has to be the sweetest sound I’ve heard all day.
Savannah straightens the covers while I lay Harley down and graze my lips against her forehead. Brushing a wet tendril of hair back off her face, I stare down at her and am overwhelmed with relief.
Tonight could have gone so differently.
Thank God for Jed.
Thank God for Griffin.
Savannah clears her throat and I turn to look at her. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome,” she rasps, then points over her shoulder. “Can you take me back to my car, please?”
“Sure.” I follow her out through the kitchen, locking the door behind me. Surely Harley’s mother has a key. Even if she doesn’t, I don’t care. I’m not leaving her alone in an unlocked house.
The trip back to the beach is silent. My phone screen lights up with a message from my mom. Savannah texted her for me when we were heading to Hatchet Cove. She took my suggestion and lied:
With Sav. She needs a break. We’ll be back soon.
“Your mom wants to know how much longer we’ll be.” Savannah’s voice is so quiet tonight.
“Tell her we’re heading back now.”
Savannah replies for me, her fingers flying over my screen. The only sound in the car is the click of the message being formed, then the swoop of the message sending.
“She’s already replying,” Savannah murmurs. “They’re heading home. She wants you to do the same.”
“Okay.” I nod, and then the silence descends again.
No one has anything to say. I glance in the rearview mirror to check on Griffin. He seems content enough in the back, staring out the window. He strikes me as a very mellow guy. Unlike me, he seemed completely unflustered by the shit that went down at Hatchet Cove. Unless he’s just really good at hiding his emotions.
As I pull the car into a parking space, I look over my shoulder and hold out my hand to him. “Thanks for your help tonight.”
“I didn’t do much, man.” He takes my hand and gives it a shake. “You were the one who rescued her.”
I let out an embarrassed scoff and shake my head, opening my door and flipping the front seat down so he can get out.
“Two rescues in two days.” Griffin smirks as he stands straight. “You ever considered a career in lifeguarding?” I open my mouth, not sure what to say, but he just chuckles and lightly smacks my chest with the back of his hand. “You should think about it, man. I’m pretty sure Marshall would be all over that.” He looks across my car and grins. “’Night, Savannah.”
“Good night.” She swallows and looks down, picking at some invisible spot on the car roof.
Griffin gives me one last nod, then jogs away.
I slump against the car, my mind whirring over his comments, then racing back to the argument I had with Harley about finding something that ignites me. I stop and make myself think about what it felt like to rescue both Skylar and Harley.
Maybe I don’t have to have a future in finance or sales.
“So this is what it feels like.”
I spin at the sound of Savannah’s soft voice. “Huh?”
Her smile is sad as she looks over at me, I can see that much under the orange boardwalk lights. “Rejection. This is what rejection feels like.”
My expression crumples, and I don’t know what to say.
“The way you looked after her tonight, it’s so obvious.” Savannah blinks, sucks in a ragged breath, then starts picking at the roof again. “We never had that.”
“Savvy, come on. You were my world.”
“And I thought you were mine for a while too, but that feeling just kind of faded, which is why I broke it off.” She sniffs and shrugs, like she’s trying to tell herself it’s no big deal.
But it is.
She’s fighting tears right now.
And I can’t stop them.
“I just didn’t expect to miss you so much.” Her forehead creases and she looks at me again, her beautiful brown eyes glassy with tears.
I give her a pained smile and wish I could do more.
But there’s nothing more to say or do.
We’re over.
Our chapter is done.
52
BMF Restoration
HARLEY
Starting a new day has never been so hard.
The light piercing my bedroom wall is like a laser beam, and opening my eyes is a new brand of torture I’ve never felt before.
Every one of my senses is thick and
sludgy. My tongue has grown mold overnight, and the furry, putrid taste is what pulls me out of bed. Someone’s gone and filled my body with concrete. Even making it to the bathroom to pee is an effort. I bend over the sink with a groan and put my mouth under the faucet, sucking in water and trying to figure out why I feel so bad.
And then the memories come.
Flashes of knowledge that break through my swollen brain and remind me that I acted like the world’s biggest idiot last night.
Drinking whiskey straight from the bottle?
Surfing?
Nearly drowning under a double hold-down?
I grip the porcelain sink, my arms shaking.
Death opened its mouth to me last night, its teeth nearly cutting me in half until Aidan dragged me away.
Aidan.
I look into the mirror, grimacing at my reflection. I don’t usually care too much about my appearance, but the thought of Aidan seeing me like this is kind of horrifying. Brushing the fur off my teeth, I then stumble to the shower, flick it on and peel off my clothes. The water cleanses me somewhat, rousing my senses and tempering the painful thud in the back of my head.
Opening my mouth, I drink the spray and think about what lies ahead.
I have to find Aidan today.
I have to thank him. Maybe tell him why I acted like such an idiot.
I know he’s back with Savannah now, but he saved my life, and the least I can do is explain how much I’ll miss hanging out with him.
Who knows, maybe we can figure out how to be friends somehow.
With a hard scoff, I flick the water off and get ready for what will no doubt be a taxing day.
And I’m right.
The second I walk into the kitchen, my mother orders me to clean the puke off the side of the house.
“What puke?” I frown at her, desperate for some of that juice she’s pouring.
“Of course you don’t remember.” She shakes her head and starts to laugh at me. “Shit, girl, you must have a thumping headache today. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wasted. Kind of sad I missed it.”
She hands me the glass of orange juice and I snatch it off her, downing the liquid. The tangy coldness soothes my throat as I try to figure out what puke she’s talking about.
I must have thrown up last night.
Oh crap, right in front of Aidan. Talk about humiliating.
I have vague memories of sitting in his car, fighting the urge to vomit. I thought I’d made it.
Then there was me on the bathroom floor and someone was cleaning me up, helping me out of my wet clothes.
Was it Aidan?
I shake my head and instantly regret it. My brain sloshes from one side of my skull to the other.
Biting my lips against a groan, I rest my elbows on the counter and try to figure out who got me changed into my pjs.
Aidan wouldn’t have undressed me like that. He asks for permission before kissing a girl. Which means it must have been…
I swallow, hating the answer. Vague memories of a girl with long brown hair and gentle eyes make me shudder.
Mom holds out a bucket and cloth. “Clean the house and I’ll make you my hangover smoothie.”
“Sounds disgusting,” I grumble, reluctantly taking the bucket from her hands and stalking outside.
The puke isn’t too bad. I got most of it into the grass, but there is a fair spray of yellow on the house. I grab the garden hose and get to work, the entire time promising myself that I will never drink like this again.
Once I’m done, I trudge back inside and am forced to down some green sludge that Mom tells me will kick the headache and get me back to normal.
I sure as shit hope so.
After chugging down the gloop, I press the back of my hand against my mouth and try not to throw it up. As I hand her the glass, Mom smirks at me. “I’m guessing you’ll want to spend the day in bed.”
I shake my head. “I have some things I need to do.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to walk to wherever you want to go.” She pulls out a cigarette and perches it between her lips to light it. “I need the car today, and I didn’t see your skateboard in the carport.”
I cringe. That’s right. Aidan still has my board.
“Walking will be good for you anyway. Just take it easy, all right?” She pulls a pack of gum from her bag and hands me a piece of sugar-free peppermint.
I take it with a small smile. It’s not often that Mom takes care of me, and she hardly ever tells me to look after myself. I can’t explain the warmth in my chest right now or the sudden urge to cry. Looking over my shoulder into the living room, I hide my expression and manage to fight off the tears before they show.
“Harley?”
“Yeah.” I turn back, forcing my eyes wide so she can’t see how much they’re burning.
“Don’t get drunk like that again, okay?”
I nod. “Promise.”
She sucks her cigarette, then blows the smoke away from my face. And suddenly the warmth between us is awkward. We both seem to sense it at the same moment and she walks out of the kitchen to get away from me, while I shove the gum in my mouth and head to my room to find my most comfortable pair of sneakers.
I can’t find my phone anywhere and have to conclude that I probably left it at Hatchet Cove. I’ll likely not get it back. Not that Axel would steal it, but everyone was pretty wasted last night and it’s probably smashed or buried in the sand. If by chance it’s in his truck, he might return it to me, but I’ll probably have to seek him out to ask for it, and I don’t feel like seeing any of those guys today. Or possibly ever again.
It takes me forty minutes to walk to the hospital.
I figure Aidan will probably be there with his family, or if he’s not there, someone who knows him will be, and I can find out where he is. Before I do anything else, I have to get that apology over with.
The first thing that hits me as I walk into Aviemore is the icy, fake air. Goose bumps ripple over my skin as my body adjusts from the heat of outside. The waiting area has a few minor injuries to be seen, but it’s pretty quiet today. I walk past reception and into the bowels of the hospital.
It’s visiting hours, so no one looks at me twice or asks me who I am.
I’m not sure which room Skylar is in, but I walk the corridors, my courage waning as I pass a room with family surrounding a bed. It’s not the De Beers, but it still makes me realize that I’m about to knock on a door and have everyone turn and look at me. Their gazes will remind me that I don’t belong.
Clenching my jaw, I turn the next corner and run straight into a cleaning cart, banging my knee and nearly tipping it over. I grab it and help the cleaner right it before things topple all over the floor. As soon as the cart is stable again, I glance up and see Jed smiling at me.
“She lives,” he murmurs.
My eyebrows flicker with confusion as his introductory smile fades away and is replaced with a sharp frown.
“What?” My voice is mouse-like as I step back from his angry expression.
Jed angry is weird. I’m not used to seeing it. He shakes his head and slaps his cleaning cloth down on the cart. “Surfing drunk? Are you out of your mind? You could have died, HQ! Do you have any idea how much that kills me? How horrible my life would be without you in it? How dare you go and do something so stupid! And what were you thinking, hanging out with those jerks? You should have come to see me instead of pushing me away. I’m your boy. The one you run to when you’re sad. You made a big mistake last night. Big mistake.”
“I know,” I whisper, thoroughly reprimanded.
Jed rests his hands on his hips and huffs, his chin trembling just a little.
I smile at his sweet angst and try to make it better. “I love you too, BMF.”
His head jerks in my direction and he gives me a stunned look, blinking a few times before finally saying, “I am talking to Harley Quinn right now, aren’t I? Because I’m pretty sure she’s allergic to
the L-word.”
I snicker. “It felt like an appropriate time to use it.”
“It sounded nice.” He starts to smile, and I realize how much I do love him.
My insides tremble with regret and it shows in my voice. “I’m sorry I pushed you away. You’re my best friend, and I seriously don’t want to live without you. I’m your HQ, right?”
He shifts around the cleaning cart, pulling me into a tight bear hug. “Always and forever.”
I squeeze him back and don’t let go until he kisses my cheek.
Holding me at arm’s length, he studies my face and laughs. “Nearly dying has worked out well for you. I’m liking this girl…although I’ll love you no matter how you behave. It’s kind of my duty as your BMF.”
I grin. “Thank you, Jed.”
He nods, then lets me go, moving back around to grab the handles of his cart. “Well, as much as I hate to say this, I’m supposed to be working.”
“Yeah, you better get back to it.” I point my thumb over my shoulder. “I was just looking for…”
“The guy who saved your ass?”
I stop, a thought suddenly hitting me. “How’d you even know about last night?”
“I saw him here. Maybe an hour ago?” He shrugs. “We talked. He’s worried about you. Once I got over the shock of finding out what happened, I told him not to stress, because you’re the toughest chick I know.” I give Jed a grateful smile, but it fades as he keeps talking. “Anyway, he looked kind of sad or angry. I couldn’t quite tell. All I know is that you have to go make it right. I like the HRB…and so do you.”
“OTD.” I grin.
He laughs and points at me, obviously stoked that one of his acronyms is catching on.
“I don’t suppose you know which room Skylar’s in?”
“He’s left already.”
“Oh.” My shoulders slump.
“But I’d start with the beach if I were you. My guess is…he wants to find you as bad as you want to find him.”
I give Jed a nervous grimace.
His expression softens, his brown eyes throwing off waves of kindness that I want to wrap myself in. Maybe I could spend my day cleaning the hospital with him instead.
