Cheated Hearts

Harper yawned as we pulled our suitcases behind us. The only tickets either of us could afford for a flight from Chicago to Los Angeles were obscenely late at night, which left us with little sleep and cranky moods. I could only leave work on Saturday which meant we had to leave at midnight and arrive in Los Angeles at six in the morning. Then we'd have to fly back on Sunday night and make it back to Illinois early in the morning to get to work. I was pretty stressed out with the whole thing.
"I h-hope this party is freaking worth it," she said through her deep yawn which contagiously made me yawn.

"You sa –aid you wanted to come."

"I did!" Harper retorted, "I mean I do!"

"If you don't want to go now's your chance," I said, extending my hand to the exit of the terminal.

For some reason, I feared Harper meeting my dad. Everybody always said we looked alike, we talked alike, we dressed alike, but we were so different. He was good, I knew. He cared about me, maybe not love, but he did care. But for crying out loud, we were going to a party he was throwing to celebrate his divorce. I didn't want Harper to think I was like that. I didn't want her to think that I liked to fail relationships. If anything, seeing my dad leave my mother and remarry so many times, having to be his best man five other instances, it just made me want to do the opposite. Once I got married, that would be it.

Harper, however, rolled her eyes at my offer and took my hand.

"Dude, you have to have a little more faith in me. I don't mean my sleepy complaints. It's gibberish," she said.

We walked now, hand in hand, towards the baggage check and I tried not to grin.

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"Oh, gosh. It's fucking bright," Harper commented as we stepped out into the Californian air. It was windy and about seventy degrees out. I thought about Chicago and the chilly air and then I felt a rush of longing for the familiar cold. I felt out of place.

Harper took off her red cardigan and threw it into her huge black leather bag. Then within another second she whipped out a pair of black sunglasses that covered half her face and put her hair is a ponytail.

I gave her a wary look.

"What? I checked the weather on Google," she said innocently with a mischievous grin.

"Of course you did," I replied blankly and took off my own jacket to stuff in a pocket of my suitcase.

We stood there for a little while, basking in the sunlight and blue sky before we started walking to the car rental corner on the other side of the street. We had already preordered the car back in Chicago and we only had to check in and sign a contract to get it.

It was a little sleek sedan. I loaded our suitcases in the back while Harper took out her pink digital camera and snapped shots of me. We jumped in the car and I started driving through the crazy streets that surrounded LAX.

"Smile, Keaton! Smile!" she said, grinning brightly.

I rubbed the top of her head and messed up her hair so badly, that she just took it out of its ponytail altogether. She gave me a sour look. But as we kept diving into the valleys of Southern California, Harper wouldn't stop smiling.

"I really missed it here," she mused, rolling down her window and letting the air make her hair blow in red waves all around.

I shifted in my seat.

"Why'd you leave in the first place?" I asked.

She shrugged nonchalantly.

"It was time to move on. Things get kind of tiring sometimes, and you have to learn to let them go."

"That was deep, Harp," I applauded her.

"Thank you! I try," she responded wryly.

"So where does your dad live?" she asked.

"Pasadena," I replied. "Where did you live when you were here?"

"Los Feliz," she said back instantly.

"You were one of those annoying city girls," I teased her.

"What are you talking about? I still am."

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When we pulled up to my dad's huge house, Harper looked at me.

"Are we staying here?" she asked.

"Yup," I said nodding.

"I'm not complaining," she said cheerfully and jumped out of the car. We got out the luggage and held hands as we walked up the drive and pressed the doorbell.

"Keaton!"

Dad had answered. It was a little unnerving to see him again. It had been at least a year since our last encounter. We were about the same height and had the same shade of dark hair and blue eyes. It was like looking at myself in thirty years.

"Hey Dad," I said. We shook hands and he pulled me in to a hug and clapped me on the back.

"Good to see you, son!" he said and gave me a toothy grin.

"Who do you have here?" he said, grinning at Harper. She had taken off her sunglasses and was beaming her bright grin at my Dad. He seemed taken aback.

"Is this your friend who's a girl? Who you call your girlfriend?" Dad asked me cheekily.

Harper stepped on her tiptoes and gave the giant man a hug.

"It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Miller! I'm Harper Summers and I'm your son's girlfriend," she said.

Dad looked kind of bewildered for a split second before hugging her back.

"Well hello there, little one. Don't call me Mr. Miller again. Call me Gene," he said. They let go of each other and my dad gave me an incredulous look.

"Where did you get her, Keat? I need one."