Cheated Hearts

Sorry. I am a cruel, soulless bitch. But at least your neck will be warm.
-Harper

This note was tucked under the scarf I found on the floor outside of my door. It had been nearly two weeks since I'd discovered Harper had a boyfriend. I kind of went out of my way to avoid her. Looking past her when we crossed in the building, pretending not to hear her calling my name. It gave me a sense of satisfaction, and then made me feel like an asshole, like a child.

I picked up the scarf and noticed it was hand knitted, and I was reminded of the strange goldfish printed scarf I'd seen Rory wear that night that seemed forever ago, the night Harper bombarded my life with her red hair and sneaky grins.

The scarf I held in my hands was navy blue with uneven white stripes. I could tell she made it herself and I fought the crazy, irrational urge to go up the floor and forgive her. Instead, I decided on chucking the scarf on the floor of my apartment and heading to work.

______________________________________________________________________________

Work seemed never ending. I looked at every customer and picked them apart, it made me feel better and then it seemed to make me feel worse when I realized that I was the guy who had to be mean to feel okay.

Playing a game of Solitaire, I was pulled out of my reverie.

"Mr. Miller?" a timid voice sounded, something I knew was a feat considering the milky voice speaking.

I turned slowly. Harper was sitting on one of the seats in front of my ebony desk. I resisted the urge to say a snide comment

"Yes?" I asked, very aware of Tarquin and Caroline staring, they had a strange fascination with the loud redheaded girl who had come in weeks before.

"You know, I, uh," she stuttered, blushing crimson, "I have a deposit to make."

I gave her an even look.

"One of the teller windows would be happy to help you," I said politely and turned my eyes to the computer screen.

Harper gave a sudden irritated sigh.

"I'm trying to say sorry, you know," she murmured, "I need you to know that I'm really, really sorry. Like, you don't even know how douchey I feel. Every time I think about it, I feel like jumping off a building or something."

"Please, go ahead," I muttered.

"Keaton!" she whisper-shrieked.

"You made me feel like a fucking idiot, Harper," I whispered angrily, finally leaning into her.

"I -I'm sorry," she sighed, giving me a hopeless look.

I sighed too. My anger had subsided. Harper's face was too apologetic and silvery and freckly and sweet to be pissed off for any longer. Then I felt like an idiot again.

"Fine, you douche bag," I murmured with a wry smile.

"Aah. Never has being called a douche bag made me so happy," Harper muttered, handing me a roll of bills.

"Deposit, please?" She gave me an innocent smile.

I got the money from her hands, careful to make sure I flipped her off in the process. She giggled and I pulled the bills apart and counted out the four hundred and sixty two dollars.

______________________________________________________________________________

There was something peculiar about Beatrix that day in the staff room. She kept glancing up at me and when I reached for the handle of the coffee jug, she did too, but I could tell it was on purpose. She then gave me a smoldering look as she let me take the jug and pour myself a cup. Could women be in heat or something?

It was like every time I turned around she was trying to make eye contact. I didn't know whether to be flattered or freaked out. I mean, she was really nice to look at and all, but it seemed that however much I tried, I could only see Harper kissing me, only see her in my bed.

"Pass me the stapler, please?" Beatrix asked me during the afternoon when we were about to close.

I stared at her, not even looking at the stapler.

Harper has a boyfriend. A boyfriend. So stop being a fucking pansy and get on this.

"Uh, Beatrix, what are you doing tonight?" I found myself saying.

She seemed shocked for a second and then happy, beaming.

"Erm, nothing," she said sweetly, "Why?"

"I dunno," I said nonchalantly, turning my eyes to my computer screen as I said, "I was just wondering if you wanted to go watch a movie or something."

She pushed a long strand of blond hair behind her ear and smiled. She was nice, "Sure, that'd be great!"

I grinned at her, seeing her cheeks blush. Beatrix was perfectly nice. She was tall and had soft brown eyes. Then I remembered another pair of brown eyes.

You've known her for a month. It's lust. In a couple of weeks, it'll be over.

I felt a little better.

______________________________________________________________________________

Beatrix was really funny. In the workplace, she was pretty mellow and I would almost want to say boring, but now, in the lights of the streets she seemed get more animated, more interesting.

"You know I knew you'd be lovely when you first came to the office."

I looked at her as we trudged up the wet and chilly street. We were walking home from the cinema. Deciding on a movie was surprisingly easy, we played tic tac toe on the back of a napkin and I won.

"How could you tell?" I asked sarcastically, remembering the fucking downfall of my life: my first day at Etson.

"You looked like you were being held at fucking gunpoint," she whispered, giving me a sly grin.

"Oh, you could tell?" I asked, scratching the back of my neck, even though I didn't have an itch.

"Yeah. But it's okay. I was a sneaky minx and checked your file. I would be pissed off, too. Impressive university, Keaton."

"Ah. Thanks," I muttered, feeling embarrassment creep onto the color of my skin.

She sighed, "Get over it, you pansy." She seemed to repeat the words that were in my head, "A job is a job. Be happy you've got one.You'll be fine."

I stared at her and before I knew it we were kissing. Kissing in a way that didn't resemble my most recent kiss. Harper was a storm, a blazing storm of lava and fire. Beatrix was a soft, cool rain, almost mist.

She pulled away and frowned.

"Nothing?" She asked, shaking her head.

"Nope, nothing," I replied. For some weird reason, I knew she was asking whether or not I felt anything.

"Damn. That's a shame. You're really cute," she sighed.

I put an arm around her shoulder as we walked down the street. We grinned.

"You know, one time, my cousin kissed me on the mouth, mistaking it for my cheek. That's kinda what that kiss was like," Beatrix teased.

"Fuck you," I said pleasantly.

"Psh. You wish," she murmured.