Harp's Song Part 4
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"Oh don't play dumb with me," she says smirking. "If you think for one second you are leaving me here to go off to college and live your life playing that stupid cello, you are wrong ... so wrong."
I feel heat fill me from my toes, up my legs spreading to my torso through my arms and finally to my chest and face. I've put up with a lot from her over the years, but this, she is not taking this from me too.
"You can't make me stay here. I'll be eighteen soon and after graduation I can do whatever I want! I'm leaving in August and there's nothing you can do about it." I have never talked back to her before. I know there will be consequences, but I also know I will never let her take this from me-she's already taken too much.
"You are wrong," her tone is almost maniacal. "You aren't going anywhere. You are not better than me." And with that she shoves me, hard. My damp foot slips against the tile on the floor. As I start to fall back, I feel the side of the bathtub knock my knees forward helping me land in the tub hard, but not before my head is thrown back into the cold, hard tile of the shower wall. I am stunned and look at her in disbelief. She is standing in front of me with a smirk on her doll-like face.
"Like I said, you aren't going anywhere. You ruined my life so don't think for a second that you can leave me to live a better life. You are not better than me." And with that, she turns and leaves.
I sit there for a few minutes just now registering the pain from the fall and take inventory of my injuries. My b.u.t.t and lower back are throbbing, but until I can get up I can't be sure how bad the fall has been. My head is aching where it hit the tile. I take my hand to feel where the pain is coming from and sure enough, it is so tender-I groan-but when I look at my hand I don't see any blood. I take a deep breath and swing my legs into the bathtub before using my hands and feet to push myself up.
As I do, my vision blurs and I become wobbly. I brace myself against the tiled shower wall until the dizziness pa.s.ses. Taking another deep breath, I step out of the tub finally feeling the full effect of the pain in my back radiating down my legs. Winning tonight will not be as simple as I thought, since I can't move with ease. I suck in a large breath and slowly walk to the medicine cabinet where I swallow Advil.
Once I get back to my room, I text Emma to see if she can come get me now so we can go to her house to finish getting ready. I hate that Connor isn't around to help me deal with this. I've never told anyone else about what happens between my mom and me so I'm nervous about what I'm going to tell her when she gets here, especially since this is such a sudden change in our plans.
Thankfully, she doesn't hesitate and agrees to pick me up. I get my clothes for tonight along with pajamas and another change of clothes for tomorrow so I can stay the night at Connor's. I don't want to come back here. Lucky for me, I guess, there is no outward sign of my mom's attack so I should be off the hook with having to tell Connor or Catherine about what happened, or them finding out by seeing the evidence.
After throwing everything together in a duffel bag, I hear Emma honk and I make a beeline for the front door. Just as I'm turning the k.n.o.b on the door, my mom grabs my arm and yanks me to a stop.
"Remember what I told you. I will make your life a living h.e.l.l if you think you can really get away with this."
Facing her, I see all the years of anger and pain lining her face. My heart aches for that happy girl in the pictures I found. Even with the pain in my head and back, nothing hurts as much as her words-they sting and bruise my heart leaving permanent damage and I can't do it anymore.
"I don't know why you hate me so much, mother, but I cannot wait to get away from you. You are the pathetic one, not me. Do you think my life has been easy, Huh? Well, it hasn't, but you don't see me sitting around wallowing in self-pity or drinking my sorrows away like you. Instead I chose to make a life for myself. A life that will get me away from you, a life that will make me happy."
Her face registers the shock from my words but I don't stay long enough to hear her response and instead turn to run out the front door into Emma's car.
"Everything ..."
"Go-please go. Quick," I cut Emma off.
"Hey, Harp, what happened? Did you get in a fight with your mom?"
I'm staring out the window not paying attention until Emma's question finally pulls me from my thoughts. I look around realizing we are in her driveway. I wonder how long we've been sitting here. I look at Emma. Concern clearly etched on her face. I shake my head, take a deep breath and wipe away the tears that had unknowingly slid down my face.
"Sorry, Emma, but I'm ok. Just a stupid fight with my mom-it was nothing. I don't know why I'm so upset. Can we just forget about it and go inside and get ready? I want to get this night over with."
"Of course. Listen, I know you're usually pretty reserved, and Connor's your best friend, but I'm your friend too and if you need anything you can always talk to me."
"Thanks, Emma, you really are great," I say sincerely.
We get ready in Emma's bedroom, and after she begs and begs to let her do my makeup, I concede. I see her pull out a huge case of makeup and I begin to panic, but once she's done, I look at myself in the mirror and see how the eye shadow and liner along with the mascara, really make my eyes stand out and create a striking difference between my other features. I smile and give her a hug.
I had planned on wearing jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt, but Emma wouldn't have it. Now I'm wearing a white tank top with my skinny jeans. She also gave me her black leather jacket and her tall black boots.
"Emma, this is too much," I say skeptically. "I look older and I kinda look like a bada.s.s ... I don't know about this."
"Exactly," she says clapping her hands while jumping up and down, "I know you are going to win tonight. You showing up looking like this, it will really make him think you mean business. Plus, you look hot!"
"Hot, huh?" I look at myself in her full-length mirror again. I have to admit, she is right. I am definitely playing the part tonight and look good doing it.
On our way to JJ's, I get a text from Connor.
Connor: On the bus. Be there soon. U ok?
Me: Freaking out. We r pulling in now.
Connor: Just stay calm + stay close to Emma. Be there as soon as I can.
Me: Did u win 2night?
Connor: Yes!
Me: Hearing from Connor makes me feel better, but that quickly dissipates when Emma pulls into a parking spot. JJ's is the staple dive bar in town. It's been around for ages and only the hard-core go there for drinks. It's got the most pool tables in town and has become known as a hangout for underage kids since the bartenders look the other way-just happy to make more money, I guess.
We have a few minutes to spare so we sit in the car and Emma keeps talking about all the latest school gossip. I don't contribute. I just nod here and there, which allows me to think about what had happened today with my mom. I'm still not sure where my reaction to her came from, but it felt good. I had finally stood up for myself, and while I am unsure about the consequences that I'll face when I eventually go home, right now, I am feeling proud of myself.
"We should go in Harp. It's eight o'clock."
Exhaling I say, "Ok, let's get this over with."
After we walk in, I see a group of locals crowding around the small bar. Opposite of them are five small tables. All of them made out of solid wood, with a worn down finish from years of service. People are gathered around laughing and drinking.
The walls are lined with different paraphernalia, mostly sports stuff but also some music posters. We walk through the smoky bar and continue down the narrow hallway pa.s.sing the bathrooms. Once we finally reach the entrance of the back room, all eyes turn to us. There are six pool tables and four dartboards, two on each side of the room, along with small tables scattered throughout and another small bar on the corner.
"Over there, Harp. Vincent is in the corner in the back, see him?"
"Yeah. This place gives me the creeps."
We walk through the room to where Vincent is. Justin isn't here because he's on the bus with the baseball team. I wish he were here though, to help out to keep his cousin in check ... somewhat.
"Well, well, well, you showed up," Vincent announces.
"I'm here, let's get this game over with. Get the table ready and you can break."
"Hold up now, what's the rush?"
I look at Vincent and notice he's got that gleam in his eyes again. I also see there's a small group of guys with him. I look between them and see they're all eyeing Emma and me. c.r.a.p. I hope that Connor and Ethan get here fast. I don't trust Vincent or any of the guys in this bar.
On our way to the table we had more than a dozen offers and "compliments" thrown at us. I've had a bad day, my head is throbbing, and I can feel a tingling down my back and legs. I'm really not in the mood to deal with Vincent tonight.
"Cut the c.r.a.p Vincent and just break already, ok?"
I feel Emma grab my hand and give it a small squeeze before stepping away from me so I can get a pool cue.
"Feisty tonight, are we? Well, I can work with that. In fact, I might like you better like this."
My goal wasn't to get him to like me better-just the opposite.
I shoot Vincent a dirty look, "Just break ok?"
"Let's flip for it-fair and square."
"Fine. I call heads."
"Tommy you wanna flip for us?" Vincent asks one of his cronies.
A medium height, stocky guy with dark eyes and dark hair steps forward, "Sure thing Vinny."
"She called heads."
"Well, heads wins. You gonna break pretty girl?" Tommy chuckles as his eyes sweep over my chest.
I don't answer him. Instead, I take my spot at the table and ready my shot. I try to tune out the pain along with the sound of Vincent and his crew talking. I break and it's good, sending three solids and one stripe into the pockets so the call is pretty obvious.
Vincent steps up to take his shots on the remaining striped b.a.l.l.s on the table. He evens it up before it's my turn again. I take my time a.s.sessing all my potential hits and go for one that I know I can make, but the pain in my back takes over and my aim is a little off the mark when it bounces off the side.
"Pretty girl off her game tonight?" Vincent taunts.
I ignore him and stand by Emma where we watch Vincent sink his next two shots. c.r.a.p, I'm really behind now.
I make the next shot and ready myself for my second one when I feel a hand on my b.u.t.t. I look over my shoulder and quirk my eyebrow at Vincent. He immediately laughs and throws his offending hand in the air while backing away from me. I lean back over and make my next shot so we each have two b.a.l.l.s left plus the eight ball.
Vincent makes his next shot leaving only one more striped ball on the table for him, but luckily, he misses. I make the next shot and take a deep breath. I know I have to knock this one in and go for the eight ball otherwise, I could lose it all right here. I make the shot and then call the eight ball while trying to ignore the filthy things coming from Vincent and his friends.
When the ball slides into the pocket, I release the tension I was holding and my shoulders descend in relief. I walk up to Vincent who is seething.
"Good game," I say extending my hand. I want him to look me in the eyes and shake my hand. I want to know this is over between all of us.
"You're not going to run out of here now, are you? How about we have a drink and make it the best two out of three?"
"Um, no, thanks."
I lay the pool cue on the table and turn back to Emma.
"Come on sweetheart-just one shot. What's the harm? I don't see Ken doll here or his friend, so what's the problem? I won't tell if you won't."
Fuming, I walk up to Vincent and stand nose to nose with him, "I'm not playing these juvenile games with you. So turn yourself around and go back to your pathetic friends. Leave my friends and me the h.e.l.l alone. Got it?"
"You heard her Vincent, back off ... now," I relax when I hear Connor's voice. He sounds p.i.s.sed, yet amused, probably because I've never been like this before.
Vincent takes a few steps back and Connor takes my hand and pulls me into him. I glance to see Ethan and Emma standing behind him and feel relieved.
"Did you win?" Connor asks me.
"Yeah," I shake my head.
"You heard her, she won, so leave us alone. We are done."
Connor tugs on my arm pulling me away from Vincent as we walk toward the front entrance with Ethan and Emma behind us. I silently pray that Vincent and his friends don't follow us, and I'm thankful my prayers are being answered tonight.
"Meet you back at my place?" Connor asks Ethan over the hood of his truck.
"You got it," Ethan says.
"You got here just in time." I tell Connor as I feel a sense of security was over me.
"I could see that. What happened?"
I recount the evening's events up until his arrival at the bar. After he's heard everything we both sit in silence. I keep glancing over to him and see that his jaw is clenched and his knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel a little bit too tight.
"What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"
He still doesn't respond, so I reach my hand to his arm and he flinches, "Connor, talk to me, please. What's going on?"
"Why are you dressed like that?"
"What? Is this why you're mad? Of all the things that happened tonight, this is why you can't even look at me?"
"Harp, don't play games. Why are you dressed like that? Answer the question."
c.r.a.p. He's really p.i.s.sed. He's seriously p.i.s.sed about it.
"Emma and I got ready at her house tonight and she thought it would be fun to dress me for the part. So I let her. If we had walked in there looking like two innocent high school girls we would have been eaten alive. She knew that and helped us fit in. It's not that big of a deal. You need to get a grip."
"Get a grip? Seriously, Harp, that's what you think?"
"Honestly, Connor, I don't know what to think because you won't tell me. But I'll remind you that you got me into this mess tonight and I got myself out of it."
I'm so mad that I throw my head back into the headrest, "Ouch ... c.r.a.p!"
I touch the back of my head and delicately rub the sensitive spot.
"What's wrong with your head?" Connor snaps at me.
"Nothing." I snap right back at him and we don't speak again until we pull into his driveway.
Connor turns to me, "I'm sorry. You're right ... all of this is my fault, but Harp, I care about you a lot and I was so worried. You should have seen me driving from school to JJ's ... it's a miracle I didn't get a ticket since I was driving like a maniac."
"I know you worry about me, and I appreciate your concern, but you, of all people should know that I can handle a lot. I handled tonight. Everything turned out fine. But I still don't understand why me being dressed like this made you so mad."
Connor s.h.i.+fts his eyes to look out the front winds.h.i.+eld and then s.h.i.+fts them back to me. I follow his gaze as it travels down my body and back up, pausing for a second on my lips. When I do reconnect with his eyes, they are full with emotion and change from emerald to forest green and I can feel that s.h.i.+ft come back between us. The cab of his truck fills with a buzzing tension.
He looks at my lips again as he leans over. His hand reaching up to the back of my head and I try not to wince in pain. Our foreheads are touching and his breathing is erratic.
"Harp," his warm breath brushes my lips when he utters my name. Then his lips are kissing mine. I'm too stunned to do anything. I sit there feeling the warmth of his soft lips until he pulls away from me, suddenly leaving me hollow and cold. I realize I want his warmth back on me again ... I bring my hands up to touch his face and pull his gaze back to mine, searching his gla.s.sy dark green eyes.
We sit there for what feels like an eternity, letting years of friends.h.i.+p surround us and I can't move. I can't do anything but think about his lips on my lips. I look down to his mouth and back up to his eyes.
Harp's Song Part 4
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Harp's Song Part 4 summary
You're reading Harp's Song Part 4. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Cassie Shine already has 704 views.
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