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Stupid Boy

Page 58

   


I left after that, my heart clenched in pain. In fear.
Fear that I’d never see Kane again. And that I’d hurt him beyond repair.
* * *
The following evening was the Dash-n-Date. It was an event I didn’t have my heart into. Not at all. But I’d done everything I was supposed to do. Delta House was hosting desserts, and wearing a sleek red velvet dress with long sleeves and silver pumps, and fitted with an organza holiday apron, I stood with my sisters in the kitchen and served cherry almond cheesecake. Christmas music played on the CD, and the Deltas had decorated our small artificial tree and had it lit up in the corner of the common room. Garland hung along every surface, and along the bannister on the stairway. I pasted on a smile as I slid pieces of cheesecake onto sturdy paper plates with a silver serving spoon. Murphy was beside me, spraying the top with whipped cream and adding a cherry. She paused and glanced at me more than once.
“Something’s wrong,” she said. “I know I’ve been in my own little Josh world lately, but I see it now. You’ve slipped.”
I glanced at her and smiled weakly. “Slipped?”
“Aye,” she said. “Back to the old Harper Belle. You know? The one before Kane.”
The last of the date dashers passed through, sorority girls with their fraternity boys on their arms, everyone dressed in cheery holiday garb. After Murphy and I loaded the last of the cheesecake, she set her whipped cream down and tugged me by the arm.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“Where?” I asked.
“Upstairs.” She glanced at her me over her bare shoulder, and the hall light caught the shimmering silver in her off-the-shoulder dress. “Confession time, love.”
On Murphy’s bed, I told her nearly everything that had happened between Kane and I. Including the beating he’d received by the outside group of men he’d run numbers on. And, his finding out about the Dare. I kept the rest to myself, though.
“Bollocks,” she whispered. “Damn, Harper. I’m so sorry.” She squeezed my hand. “He’ll come ‘round. I’ll bet my life on it.” She offered me a smile. “The way that boy looks at you? A simple misunderstanding about a sorority dare won’t keep him away.”
I sighed. “I hope you’re right.” I looked at her then. The one person I’d called a friend, besides Olivia, I supposed. “Thank you, Murphy.”
“Anytime, love,” she answered.
That night, I lay awake in my lightened room, staring at the ceiling. Thinking of Kane. I tried again to call him, but it went straight to voicemail. I hung up, the hole in my chest growing larger by the day. Finally, I drifted off to sleep.
* * *
It was three more days before Winston let out for the holidays. I’d not heard one word from Kane. No text. No call. Nothing. My heart felt cold, empty. Dull. Part of it was fueled by shame. I knew the Dare had been wrong from the beginning. I hadn’t counted on falling for my subject. Falling so fast.
Falling in love with him.
Just as fast, I’d ruined everything. And now Kane was gone.
I’d visited the park, sat on the bench with Clara, and we’d talked. I’d somehow found comfort in her company. She was sweet and wise, and just hearing the stories of her life uplifted me. Until I went to bed, where my fears and thoughts kept me awake. Kept my heart heavy.
I’d just left the library with Murphy, and she glanced over. “No word, eh?”
I shook my head. “No.”
She hugged me now, offering consolation as best as she could.
“Oy, love, he’ll be back,” she said. “Once his bruises are mended, he’ll realize he can’t live without you. Give him time.” She winked. “You’ll see.”
I nodded and, not wanting to be a total bummer, pasted a smile on. “How are things with Josh going?”
A slow smile broke her face. “Very well, thank you. He’s driving to meet my parents the day after Christmas.” She wagged her brows. “I can’t wait for the encounter with me father. Lord, that’s one big, intimidating Welshman.” She grinned. “I’ll be sure and video the occasion.” She hugged me once more. “If things change you call me, okay? You’re always welcome to the Polk house!”
“Thanks,” I replied. “I might—”
“Harper Belle?”
I turned at the sound of my name to find an older man dressed in a gray suit and long coat standing in the quad facing me. He was tall, with silver hair at his temples. Alert blue eyes stared down at me. Kind. Perceptive. He smiled.
“I’m sure you don’t remember me,” he offered. “We met a very long time ago.” His hand shot out, and I grasped it. “Detective Frank Shanks. May I have a word with you in private? I may have some news regarding your parents’ case.”
I stared at him, stunned. My mind whirled, and suddenly the sounds around me dulled. Even his mouth was moving, but I no longer heard his words. A wash of memory fell over me, sucking the breath from my lungs and making my knees go weak. The man who’d pulled me from that kitchen sink was here. The waves crashed over me then, standing there with my hand in Detective Shanks’ large one, his eyebrows furrowed as he ducked his head closer to me. My lips grew numb, and I began to gasp for air. Of course I remembered him. Had never forgotten him. Never would.
Oh Jesus, no! Don’t let this happen! Don’t let them see what’s inside of me!