Take a Breath and Hold On Tight

It had been a week since the 'volleyball incident', and Kennedy was still apologizing, although I had told him it was fine; the episode had been an accident, and you can't control accidents.

Today was Friday, once more, and Libby had left around twenty minutes ago for a breakfast date with Garrett. I took this time to catch up on some reading, as I've barely had any time to read since I arrived in Tempe, save for Levy's journal entries. I was currently laying on my tummy on my bed, with my glasses sitting at the bridge of my nose and my face in F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. I was still in my pajamas and my curly, and frizzy from the heat hair, was up in a ponytail. I felt comfortable, for once, with the sun coming in the from window, beating down on my back. I felt in my element.

Just as I turned the page to reach chapter five, there was a knock on my door. I set the book down on my bed, and pushed myself off the bed with my arms, walking over to the door. Expecting it to be either my aunt, uncle, or possibly, Libby, I didn't even give my appearance a second thought. I regretted the decision as soon as I came face to face with John.

"J - John?"

He gave me a bright smile. "Hey, Harp."

I furrowed my brows in confusion. "What're you doing here?"

His smile immediately fell from his face. "I'm sorry. Were you busy or something? I can come back later, if you want."

I shook my head and gave him a small smile. "No, no, it's fine. I just . . . I wasn't expecting to see you standing there."

He chuckled. "I guess I should have called first, huh?"

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

He glanced behind me, looking into my room. "Reading?"

I looked over at the book laying on my bed. "Oh, yeah . . . I haven't had much time to do it lately, and since Libby left, I just figured it'd be a good time."

He laughed. "Libby's one big giant ball of energy."

I nodded my head in agreement. "She is."

I felt his stare on me and I ran my hand over the top of my head, trying to smooth over the curls. "I, um . . ." I trailed off, not really knowing how to explain the reason for me looking the way I did.

". . . Weren't expecting anyone?" he asked, his brows arched in amusement.

"Yeah."

"No worries." He shrugged and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Feel like going for a walk with me?"

"A walk?"

He nodded his head. "It's my turn to walk Brutus."

"Brutus?" I asked.

He smiled. "He's my dog."

"That makes sense," I mumbled.

He laughed. "So how about it?"

"Um, sure. Can you give me ten minutes?"

He nodded his head. "That's fine. I'll wait outside for you."

"Alright."

He walked away and I shut the door. I walked over to my dresser and pulled out a horizontal striped purple and white tee shirt, along with a pair of dark denim capris. I changed quickly and ran the brush through my hair, which only caused my hair to frizz more. I sighed and slipped on a black headband, and slid my feet into a pair of grey sandals. I grabbed my phone, stuck it in my pocket, and walked out. I noticed that my aunt and uncle weren't in the living room, like they once had been. I turned around, slightly confused, until I looked out the back door, and saw that they were in the garden. I walked over and opened the door, causing the both of them to look at me.

"Hi, honey," my aunt said.

I smiled. "Hi. Um, is - is it okay if I go for a walk with John?"

She smiled and nodded her head. "Of course it is, Harper."

"Do you have your phone on you?" my uncle asked.

I nodded my head. "I do."

"Then have fun," he told me.

I smiled. "Thanks, Uncle Glenn." I walked back into the house, shutting the door behind me, and walked to the front door. Once I was outside, John stood up from the porch steps, which he had been sitting on.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yeah. Let's go."

He whistled, and a second later, a chubby, medium-sized, tan French Bulldog came running over to us. I felt my eyes widen as John bent down to hook the leash to his collar. When he stood back up, he looked at me and laughed.

"He looks mean, but he's really not," he told me.

"Are you sure?" I asked him skeptically.

He nodded his head. "Positive. Pet him."

I looked at John as if he were crazy. "P - pet him?"

He smiled and grabbed my hand, pulling me closer to Brutus. "Pet him."

"John, I -" I stopped talking when I felt Brutus' tongue licking the back of my hand.

"See; harmless," he said.

I smiled. "Yeah, harmless. . ." I pulled my hand back, still feeling unsure of the dog.

John began walking, and I fell instep beside him. Brutus walked in front us.

"So, why are you scared of dogs?" he asked.

"I'm not scared of dogs . . . just the big ones."

He laughed. "Just the big ones," he repeated.

I looked down, watching my feet as we walked, making sure I wouldn't trip.

"Harper?"

"Yeah?"

"Finding your feet interesting?"

I felt myself blush and I bit down on my bottom lip. "It's a habit."

He smiled. "Hold you head up high, Harp."

I lifted my head up and looked at him. "I tend to trip a lot."

He chuckled. "You won't fall, trust me. I'll keep an eye out for you." He winked and I laughed. "There's that laugh I love to hear."

My cheeks were once again on fire and I smiled, turning away from him. "It's just a laugh," I reminded him.

"Like I said before, laughing is good for the soul." I nodded my head, and we turned the corner of the street. "So, are you starting to like Tempe?"

"It's a nice place. It sort of reminds me of back home."

He looked at me. "Of Texas?"

I nodded my head. "Yeah."

"Well that's good. I mean, it makes it less harder for you to adjust to." I shrugged subtly. "Are you staying for the whole summer?"

"Yeah, until August."

He smiled. "That's good."

"Why?" I looked at him.

He laughed. "Because I plan on us being best friends."

"Best friends?" I asked.

He nodded his head. "If you don't mind being best friends with me."

I laughed softly. "Of course not."

He gave me a smile. "Can I ask you something?"

"Um, sure . . ." I chewed on the inside of my cheek, looking at Brutus, who now had his tongue hanging outside of his mouth.

"Do you think you can trust me?"

Trust. Trust was something that I gave to very few people. The one person who had my trust,entirely, was now gone, leaving me behind. I swallowed hard and tried to push Levy to the back of my head. If I thought of him, and his death, I would start crying right here, in the middle of the sidewalk, which I refused to do. As long as I could help it, I would never let another person see me shed a tear.

"I . . . I don't really know, John," I said quietly.

"Why not?" he asked in a tone that truly sounded curious.

"Because I'm not too good with trusting people," I admitted.

He stopped walking, and a second later, I did as well. Brutus walked over to a patch of grass in someone's yard and began sniffing the ground. "Don't you think you should at least give a person a chance?"

I looked at him. "I don't know."

He smiled. "How about we make a deal?"

"A deal?"

He nodded his head. "Give me at least a little of your trust. If I do something to screw it up, you don't ever have to trust me again."

"Why do you want my trust?" I asked.

"Because if we're going to be best friends, I need to know that you trust me, like I trust you."

"You trust me?"

He nodded his head. "I trust you a lot, actually."

I arched my brows. "Why?"

"Because I feel like you're a good person, Harper. You don't always feel the need to be the center of attention, and you don't always feel the need to say something. You listen and take in everything . . . kinda like me. Plus, I trust Libby's judgement of people, and she thinks highly of you, so that must mean that you're a good person."

Libby thought highly of me? I looked down at the concrete beneath my feet for a moment, before looking back at John. "If - if I give you my trust, it's a one time thing only. If you mess it up, you won't ever give it back."

He nodded his head. "I understand."

I sighed. "Well then . . . I trust you."

He smiled. "And I trust you."

I had to laugh a little at how that sounded. "Good."

"Brutus, no!" John yelled and I looked at the dog, seeing that he had left behind a few feces on the grass.

I laughed again. "Didn't you bring those bags to pick up their poop?"

He shook his head. "He took a shit before we left. I figured he was good." He shrugged.

I shook my head. "What're you going to do?"

"Run."

"Run?" I asked.

He looked at me and nodded his head. "Run." He grabbed my hand and we took off running back towards Libby's house, Brutus ahead of us the whole way.