Comin' Home

When Harper got back to the Halvorson’s residence, she noticed a familiar bright yellow car sitting in the driveway. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” she muttered under her breath. She was so not in the mood for these guys, not today.

After standing outside for several minutes, debating on if she should actually go in or not, Harper finally sucked it up and walked inside. “Hey,” she called out, unsure of where the guys actually were.

Unexpectedly, Pat was the one to pop out of the doorway that would lead her from the living room into the kitchen. “Harper!” he exclaimed, running over to hug her. She laughed and hugged him, too; out of all of the guys, Pat was her favorite. He was funny, ridiculous, and could always put a smile on your face.

“I didn’t know you were back,” he said finally when they pulled apart.

She nodded, shrugging. “Just had some stuff to take care of.”

“Kennedy related stuff?”

She scoffed and shook her head. “Kenny is the absolute least of my problems.”

Pat shrugged and returned to the kitchen, Harper following right behind him. She noticed Garret and John sitting at the counter, while Halvo stood across from them, gesturing wildly. He must have been telling them a story. Pat took a seat next to Garret and Harper followed, figuring she had nothing else to do. At least with Pat there, John wouldn’t bug her as much.

After ten minutes of listening to Eric babble, Harper decided a shower would be a good idea. She left the boys to their stories and walked into the bathroom. She stripped out of her running attire and quickly climbed in, the hot stream of water hitting her body.

Harper stood under the water for twenty minutes before making any move to wash her hair or body. She just stood there, hoping the water would wash away every single feeling, emotion, and memory she didn’t want to have. Before long, her mind was racing, and she couldn’t take it anymore. The brunette sat down on the floor of the shower while the water continued to fall over her. Soon, she was crying but it was impossible to tell where her tears ended and where the water started.

She knew if she sat like that any longer, she would pass out; that was how hard she was crying. Getting up, she washed herself quickly and washed her hair even faster, then got out and dried off. She had forgot to bring a change of clothes with her; instead, still in a daze, she just walked through the kitchen, unfazed by the boys sitting there blatantly staring at her.

Harper walked down into the basement, gathering up some comfy clothes to change into. Once she felt she was ready, she collapsed on the bed with her iPod on high and closed her eyes, trying to rid it all away. She didn’t want anything to be real anymore. She didn’t want to deal with her grandfather’s death; she didn’t want to deal with her selfish parents; she didn’t want to deal with the ex-boyfriend, with whom she really had to have a proper conversation with but just couldn’t.

Harper wanted it all to just go away.

She was sobbing by now, but she just didn’t care anymore. She turned her music up louder to drown out the sounds of her own crying, and just let the tears fall. She hadn’t let herself cry like this in a long time.

Somehow, through the sounds of her bawling and her music, she heard the door to the basement open. She heard the hurried footsteps and the talking. Then she felt someone sit down next to her. She couldn’t see through her blurry vision, but she knew it was one of the guys. “Shh, it’s alright Harper,” he said to her.

Pat.

He picked her up so she wasn’t in a fetal position anymore and he hugged her, rocking her back and forth, letting her cry in his t-shirt. She heard some hushed whispers too, but she couldn’t make out what anyone was saying. At this point, it didn’t matter. She was too busy trying not to choke on her own sobs.

When she finally calmed down enough to form semi-coherent sentences, Pat tried to talk to her. “Harp, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

She shook her head, even though something did happen. Everything was falling apart.

“Harper, you have to talk to us or we can’t help you,” Garrett pleaded. He felt so bad for the poor girl, he just wanted to help her.

“Should we call Nick?” Eric suggested, out of ideas.

At that suggestion, she shook her head violently. “He’ll—just—want—to—come—home.” She let out another cry and said, “I can’t.” Cry. “Do that to.”Cry. “Him!”

“Harper, help us here,” Pat said softly.

“I don’t know!” she said, exhausted. And then she started to cry again. “Just.” Cry. “Don’t leave.”

“Alright, Harper, alright. We aren’t going anywhere.”

***

When Harper finally woke up, she was completely disoriented. She had no idea where she was at first, but then when she remembered she was in Arizona, she had no clue what time it was.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stretched and then stood up. She padded her way across the basement and then up the stairs, where she heard talking coming from the kitchen. Harper stopped at the top of the steps and pressed her ear against the door, trying her hardest not to breathe too loudly so she could hear the conversation.

“We need to call Nick,” someone said.

“Harper begged us not to, dude. I think the least we could do is respect that.”

“And she’s right; I mean what good does it do us if he’s here? She’ll just want him to leave again, which will bring us back to square one.”

“Well we need to do something. She just had a breakdown, and I won’t bet money on her not having another one.” Everyone stopped to think before speaking again. “Halvo, what the hell is going on?”

“No way, I’m not going to be the one to tell you.” Three points for Halvo! Good boy, Harper thought happily. At least she knew she could trust him.

“Well we need to figure something out!” That was John, Harper was almost sure of it.

At this, she decided to make her presence known. She opened the door to the basement and walked through while four pairs of eyes all landed on her.

“Feeling, uh… better?” Pat asked awkwardly.

She shrugged. “I definitely needed a little extra sleep.” She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Look guys, I’m fine. I just had a little panic attack ok? No need to have pow-wows about me in secret,” she joked.

“Harper, whatever that was down there,” Pat said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the basement, “was not what a normal person calls fine.”

“Whatever, I’m fine now. Okay? See?” she said, smiling for them, “I’m fine.”

“Anyone can fake a smile and say they’re fine, Harper,” Garrett said quietly. “What’s going on with you?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t going to tell them first. Out of all of those guys, the only person who really deserved to know was the one person she didn’t feel like seeing. These guys didn’t know her grandfather; it wouldn’t mean anything to them. It would just give them an excuse as to why she was crying. “It’s none of your business,” she told them finally.

She left the boys in the kitchen while she hightailed it out of there. Grabbing her keys off the counter, she walked outside quickly, climbed in her car, and just drove.

“Only a few more weeks,” she said to herself. She could survive a few more weeks.

Couldn’t she?