by Ash, Nikki
My parents, on the other hand, very much care. Actually, that’s not true. My mom cares. My dad used to, but now he’s usually too drunk to really pay attention. About a year ago, he got let go from his job. No longer being the bread winner hit him hard and he started drinking. Now he’s drunk more than he’s sober, and it’s put a severe strain on our family.
My mom works hard at her job. She’s the customer service manager for a large home builder. Then, after working all day, she comes home to take care of my dad, who’s usually too drunk to care for himself. And somehow she still finds the time to make sure I’m doing what I should be doing.
“Trust me, she’d find a way to punish me.” I shake my head and Melissa shrugs, taking another hit. I’m looking out at the field, trying to locate Richie, when Melissa grabs the sides of my face and fuses our mouths together. Smoke quickly fills my lungs before I can pull back.
“Seriously?” I choke out when she backs up.
“Hell yeah!” a bunch of guys shout, having seen us kiss.
Melissa cackles. “Gotcha!”
“That’s not funny.” I glare at her.
“Oh, Harper, lighten up.” She takes another hit before trying to pass it to Angela, who shakes her head.
“You’re not the one trying to get her car and life back,” I point out.
“She’s not going to even know. Chill out,” Melissa says, passing the joint to her brother.
Melissa’s totaled two cars already that she and her brother share, and her dad’s already promised her he’d get them another one soon. She doesn’t understand that just because her parents don’t pay attention, doesn’t mean other parents don’t.
Not wanting to argue with her, I hop onto the back of the Mustang’s trunk and pull my cell phone out of my pocket. As I scroll through my social media, while somewhat watching the game going on, I come across dozens of posts of Melissa kissing me. Jesus, that literally happened like five minutes ago. You can’t do anything anymore without it being captured and put online for everybody to see.
Since I have my mom on social media—it was that, or not have one at all, according to my mom—I deny all the tags, so she doesn’t see anything.
When I get bored of scrolling through the same stuff, I put my phone away and watch the baseball game. Landon’s pitching and Richie is up to bat. Landon taunts Richie, then throws the ball. Richie swings and misses.
“I’m pretty sure your girlfriend hits better than you,” Landon yells through a laugh that has me smiling.
Richie flicks him off and yells back, “Just throw the damn ball!”
Landon throws it and Richie misses again. “How are we supposed to have a shot at winning this season if you can’t even score? Need me to show you how it’s done?”
“Fuck off, bro.” Richie drops the bat, and the teams switch positions.
I’m watching Richie run toward the outfield with his glove in his hand, when two strong hands grip my waist and pull me off the vehicle. Landon. I scream out in surprise, which has him laughing.
“Only the girl I’m fucking gets to sit on the back of my ’stang,” he whispers into my ear as he sets me on the ground. “And I’m definitely not fucking you.” He smirks and steps back.
“And you never will.” I hit him with a hard glare, refusing to acknowledge how strong his hands felt holding on to me, or how easily he picked me up like I weigh nothing. I also refuse to acknowledge the way my flesh dotted with goose bumps when he spoke so closely to me, I could smell the cool mint on his breath.
“We’ll see.” Landon’s eyes run up and down my body for a second before he pops the trunk and reaches in to grab something. “Forgot my bat.”
“You already used someone else’s,” I point out. I’ve seen him bat at least once already.
He doesn’t deny it.
“Hey, Harp,” Melissa calls out. “Don’t you have to leave? It’s almost six.” She laughs, holding up her phone to show me the time. And sure enough, it’s already 5:50, which means I have exactly ten minutes to get home.
“Shit!” I run over to the side of the field. “Richie!” When he looks over at me, I yell, “I gotta go!” Not having my own car seriously sucks. I’m definitely going to think twice before letting Melissa talk me into sneaking out again.
Richie comes running over. “We’re not done with our game yet.”
“Well, if I’m not home in”—I glance at my cell phone—“nine minutes, I’m screwed.”
Richie groans. “Can’t you ask one of your friends to give you ride?”
“You already know Melissa doesn’t have a car, and Angela doesn’t even have her license.”
“So ask one of the guys,” he suggests.
“Seriously?” I shout, loud enough that everyone around us can hear. “The other guys aren’t my boyfriend! You are.” What kind of boyfriend actually suggests for his girlfriend to get a ride by another guy instead of taking her home himself? A selfish one, that’s who.
“Because it’s my fault you got grounded?” Richie argues.
“Never mind.” I throw my hands in the air and walk away. I don’t have the time to argue with him, and even if I did, I don’t want to. It’s a waste of my energy. “I don’t even know why I’m with you!” I yell over my shoulder.
“What are you saying?” he shouts back.
I turn around, and before I can second-guess my words, I blurt out, “That I’m done.”
“You don’t mean that.” He scoffs as if the idea of me breaking up with him is so outrageous. Newsflash, buddy. You are not that good of a catch.
“Yes, I do. We’re over!” I shout back, then turn around and stomp off. He yells something at me in return, but I don’t hear it. And I don’t care to either. I’m so done with his shit.
Pulling out my phone, I dial my mom’s number.
“Harper,” she says, answering on the first ring. “You better be walking through the door in the next eight minutes.”
“I’m going to be a few minutes late.”
“Then you’ll be grounded,” she states matter-of-factly. “You know the rules.”
“Richie is being an ass and I’m walking home,” I whine.
“Seven minutes, Harper,” she says, then hangs up.
Damn it! There’s no way I’m going to make it home in seven minutes. I walk down the sidewalk, not even bothering to rush, knowing I’ll never make it on time anyway. As I walk, I think about Richie’s and my argument. In the past, when we’ve gotten into it and broken up, I felt bad and immediately wanted to work it out, but for some reason, this time it feels different. The only emotion I feel right now is anger toward myself for being stupid enough to think I could count on him. He may be a year older than me, but sometimes he has the maturity level of a ten-year-old boy.
I try to dredge up any feelings at all, but there aren’t any. I’m not heartbroken or sad—if anything, I feel relieved that we’re over. That I don’t have to deal with the constant whiplash of his hot and cold. I don’t know if it’s him who’s changed, or me, but something clearly isn’t working anymore.
“Get in,” I hear a voice call out. I glance over and Landon’s in his white Mustang driving next to me.
“Did Richie send you to take me home?”
“No. I overheard you guys fighting and said I had to get home. He’s still at the field.”
“And why would you do that?” I ask, curious. “What’s in it for you?” First, there was the ice cream, and then him giving me a ride to the field. Let’s not forget about the comment implying he thinks he can get in my pants. The looks he’s been giving me. And now he’s going out of his way to give me a ride home. If I didn’t know better, I would think Landon Maxwell might like me. But that doesn’t make sense because Landon doesn’t date—ever. Many girls have tried, and all have failed.
Landon just laughs. “Does it matter? Just get your ass in the car before you’re late.”
We pull up to my house at 6:01. “Better hurry,” he says
as I run up my sidewalk.
“You’re late,” Mom says the second I enter the front door.
“A freaking minute,” I argue.
“You’re grounded.” She walks into the kitchen and pulls whatever she’s cooking out of the oven.
“You can’t be serious! I was a minute late. One minute! I even called to let you know!”
“You knew the rule. You were lucky you got that after sneaking out.” She walks over to me and puts her hand out, wiggling her fingers. “Cell phone.”
“What?” I hold my phone to my chest. “Mom, c’mon, please. It was one minute.”
“Late is late, Harper,” she insists. “Phone, now.”
Instead of handing it to her, I fling it onto the counter and then run upstairs, slamming my bedroom door behind me. I throw myself onto my bed and curl into a ball. Angry tears build in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. One more year and I’ll be out of here. I can’t wait. No more having to abide by my mom’s stupid rules. No more curfew. I’ll be able to do whatever I want, whenever I want.
I’m not sure how long I’m lying in bed, cursing my luck and life, when there’s a knock on my door. “Harper, unlock the door,” my mom demands.
Not wanting to make matters worse, I climb off my bed and do as she said. When I swing the door open, she stares at me for a long moment, then says, “Is that weed I smell on you?” Oh, Jesus! This seriously cannot be happening right now. I must have the worst luck in the world! How could I forget Melissa blew that damn smoke into my mouth and all over my clothes? Oh, that’s right. Because I was too busy breaking up with Richie and getting grounded for being one minute late.
“I didn’t smoke,” I tell her honestly. “It was Melissa.” I almost feel bad for throwing my friend under the bus, but desperate times and all that.
“So, if I get you drug tested you’ll pass?” she questions.
I want to say I would, but what if the smoke she blew into my mouth shows in the test?
“Well… I’m not sure…” When her brows rise to her forehead, I try to backpedal. “What I mean is, I didn’t smoke today.”
“Today?”
Damn it, this is coming out all wrong! “I don’t smoke—” I begin, trying to figure out how to explain myself, but before I can finish my sentence, she’s already turning her back on me.
“Consider yourself grounded from life indefinitely.”
“Mom, can you please listen to me?” I beg, chasing her down the stairs.
“No, Harper, I’ve had enough of this. You’re a year and a half away from graduating and set on destroying your future. Until I see a change in your behavior, you’re grounded.”
Ugh! I can’t believe this. She never listens to a damn word I say.
“I hate you!” I yell out of anger.
“That’s okay,” she yells back. “Then I know I’m doing my job as your mom.”
I go back into my room and flop onto my bed. This has got to be the worst day ever. The worst year ever! It’s like every time I think I’m taking a step forward, I get pushed three back. I get Mom had me young and didn’t have a chance to go to college, but I’m not her. I’m going to get my degree. She doesn’t have to be so damn strict. If she knew all the shit my friends do and how bad their grades are, she’d be thankful she has a daughter as behaved as I am. But she doesn’t care. Nothing I do is ever good enough. While Dad stumbles around like a drunk fool, she focuses on whether I’m one minute late.
Suddenly feeling claustrophobic in my room, in this house, I jump out of bed and head straight for my window. Pushing it up, I look back into my room. When Mom finds me gone, she’s going to be pissed. But really, what more can she ground me from? She’s already taken everything away.
I climb through my window, which leads to the roof. From there, I jump down onto the air-conditioning unit and then onto the ground, like I’ve done a million times.
Once I’m down, I begin my walk through the neighborhood. I have no clue where I’m going. Am I running away? I probably should’ve grabbed some clothes if I was…
Oh well, too late now. I honestly just need to get away, to have a moment to myself, to take a deep breath. I’m just so sick of everything.
I walk until I reach Melissa’s house. I don’t really want to hang out with her, but hiding out here would be perfect since her parents probably aren’t home. I knock a few times and finally Dennis answers.
“What’s up?”
“Melissa home?”
Dennis’s brows furrow in confusion. “She’s at Richie’s…”
Hmm… interesting. In all the time I’ve been friends with her, she’s never hung out with Richie without her brother or me being there. “Okay, thanks.”
I continue to walk down our street and when I get to Richie’s house, I consider whether I should knock and find out if Dennis is right. A part of me says I shouldn’t care. We broke up. But another part of me wants to know if my best friend really is that disloyal.
When I knock on the door, Richie’s mom, Anita, answers. “Harper, how are you?” She’s dressed in her usual attire. An expensive dress and matching heels, like she’s just come home from the office, even though she doesn’t even work. Richie, Melissa, and I might all live in the same neighborhood and go to the same school, but that’s where the similarities end. They both come from families with money, while my family lives paycheck to paycheck. The only reason we could even afford the house we live in is because my mom works for the home builder, so she got a good deal on the house.
“I’m good,” I tell her, not wanting to get into the truth. “Is Richie home?”
“Sure, dear. He’s in the basement with Melissa. Go on down.” A huge knot forms in my stomach at her words. He’s not just hanging out with Melissa, he’s in the basement with her. There’s only one reason we ever hang out in the basement—to make out.
“You know what? I just remembered I have to get home.”
Anita tilts her head slightly to the side, obviously confused, but she doesn’t question me. “Okay, bye, Harper.”
I reach into my back pocket to pull my phone out and text Melissa, but then remember my mom has it. There’s no way Richie and Melissa would hook up an hour after Richie and I broke up, right? Melissa might be a bitch, but she’s my friend. She would never do that to me. But the more I think about it, the more I believe they would. And for some reason, the thought of them hooking up doesn’t even bother me. If Melissa wants to be with him, then whatever. The two of them can have each other. I just don’t have it in me to care anymore.
I’m not sure how long I walk for, but eventually when I look around, I find it’s dark outside and I’ve made my way into Sunrise Estates. I hear a whooshing sound and then a loud crack. When I look to my left, I see Landon hitting balls into a net in his front yard.
“Good job,” I say aloud.
Landon turns around and grins. “What’re you doing out? Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
“Ha-ha.” I walk over and lean against the side of his car while he turns his pitching machine off. “My mom grounded me and took my phone, so I left.” Saying the words out loud makes me realize how impulsive I was to leave like that. Eventually, I’m going to have to go home and everything will only be worse because I left.
“That’s tough.” He sets his bat on the side of his mobile home and walks over. “Why didn’t you go to your boyfriend’s?”
“We broke up.” I shrug. “I know you heard everything at the field.”
“True, but you guys always get back together.”
“Not this time.”
Landon nods slowly. “Wanna go for a walk?”
“Sure.”
We walk down his street and then through a thicket of trees, eventually ending up in his neighborhood park, which is nothing more than a dirty, rundown playground and a picnic table. Landon hops onto the top of the table and pats his hand next to him. When I don’t make a move to join him, he laughs. “C’mon, Harper, I don’t bite
.” But the way he says it, almost implies he would like nothing more than to do just that.
“Whatever,” I murmur, taking a seat next to him.
“So, what happened?”
“I walked through the door literally one minute late and my mom grounded me.” I groan, imagining how badly she’s going to flip out when she realizes I’m gone. I really need to learn to think before I act.
“Sounds like she’s just trying to keep you in line.”
“More like keep me locked up. She smelled weed on me and freaked the hell out.”
“At least she cares.” He dips his head down slightly and runs his fingers through his hair.
“Does your mom not care?” I ask, wondering if his parents are like Melissa’s.
“My mom’s dead,” he admits with a sad smile. “Died of a brain aneurism a few years ago.”
“Is that why you moved here?”
He shakes his head. “No, I moved in with my grandma. But last year she passed away and I had no choice but to move in with my dad. My older brother is away at college, so it’s just me and Dad.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, suddenly feeling like shit for bitching about my mom caring when Landon’s isn’t even alive. “So, your dad doesn’t care?”
“It’s not that he doesn’t care. He’s just busy with work, trying to make ends meet. He treats me more like a roommate than his son, which makes sense since my mom was the one who raised me. He was nothing more than an every other weekend dad. I guess it makes it hard to be taken seriously when you only see your kid four days a month.” He scrubs his hands up and down his face and then sets his elbows against the tops of his thighs. “With me being about to graduate, he views me more like a friend than his son.”
“I wish my mom were my friend,” I admit. “It feels like ever since I became a teenager we’ve been at each other’s throats.”
“She’s just trying to be a good mom. Cut her a little slack. It can’t be easy raising a wild child like you.” Landon bumps my shoulder and we both laugh.
