Page 10 of Pining for Pierce

“Thanks.”

She lies down again on her back, staring up at the sky. “I know your dad can be hard work,” she says. “But Mom and Dad trust you. You know that, don’t you? They didn’t give you the job or the apartment just because of your friendship with Ben.”

“I know,” I say, feeling myself blush a little at her compliment, although I remember how much her parents have done in the past, simply because of my friendship with Ben. When they moved from Hart’s Creek to Willmont Vale, around twenty years ago, they decided to keep Ben in the same school, rather than move him, just because they knew how much our friendship meant to us. We wouldn’t have stopped being friends just because they moved, but seeing each other every day made all the difference to us.

“If they didn’t trust you, they’d never have gone away for a month and left you in charge.”

“I get that.”

“Have you tried explaining it to your dad in those terms? Maybe if you didn’t focus so much on your art when you talked to him, and explained that Mom and Dad believe in you, he might come around.”

I shake my head. “Don’t be offended, but I tried that already. It didn’t go well.”

“Why not?”

“He made it clear he thought your mom and dad only gave me the job because they felt sorry for me, and that they gave methe apartment because it meant there would be someone at the store to keep an eye on things.”

“That’s not true,” she says, sitting up, and sounding so much more offended than I expected.

“I know. Your parents aren’t like that.”

“This has nothing to do with my parents. This is about you,” she says, defending me, and I have to smile.

“Okay… but you have to remember my dad tends to speak before he thinks. It comes of having lived by himself for so long…” I let my voice fade, thinking back to my mother’s death. Not that I really remember it. I was only five years old and my memories are limited to tears, confusion and an aching emptiness. It was a void my father never tried to fill. As I grew up, we drifted apart. Dad had ambitions for me, which I never wanted to fulfill, and so the gap widened, and I was drawn toward Ben and his family… and art.

“Are you okay?” Harley asks, lying back down, but turning onto her side again, so she’s facing me.

“I’m fine. But can we change the subject?”

“Sure. What do you wanna talk about?”

“I don’t know…” I gaze out across the creek, hoping for inspiration, and then look back down at her. “Why don’t I tell you about my latest disastrous date?”

She flips onto her back, letting out a slight sigh. “Okay,” she murmurs and I lie beside her, ignoring my sketchpad for now as I explain about Kenna and how clingy she was.

“With hindsight, my mood probably wasn’t helped by the call from my dad. That didn’t occur to me at the time, but even so… the woman wouldn’t let go of me.”

“And that’s a problem?” she says.

“It can be.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” she says, her voice laced with mock sympathy as she turns to face me, leaning up and looking intomy eyes. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you’re just really hard to please?”

“No,” I say and she shakes her head at me before we both laugh, and I lean over and push her onto her back, which makes her squeal and giggle, and I laugh even louder, feeling more relaxed than I have in ages.

Chapter Three

Harley

It’s been a tough week, which doesn’t make much sense. Doctor Singleton has been back, and that ought to have made things easier. Except it hasn’t. Mostly because he’s been so contrary. Ordinarily, he’s just a terrible fuss-pot, clucking around if a patient is late, or if they’re early, or if anything is out of place. This week, though, he’s been worse than ever, and I’m just relieved to have made it to Friday again. One more day, and I can have some time to myself…

That said, I’ll probably spend most of it daydreaming about Pierce. That’s what I’ve done since Sunday, using most of my waking hours just thinking about what happened down by the creek. My thoughts haven’t revolved so much around his father and their phone call, but around his date with that girl… Kenna, I think he said her name was. Even if it wasn’t, their date didn’t seem to go very well. Pierce didn’t mention seeing her again, anyway, and although I’m trying not to be triumphant about that, it’s hard not to rejoice.

It’s just as hard not to remember how it felt when he brushed that hair from my face and tucked it behind my ear. It would have been so easy to lean up and kiss him… if only I had the courage. Except I don’t. I couldn’t face the rejection.

Of course, when he rolled me onto my back, the two of us in fits of laughter, I longed for him to kneel above me… to bend hishead and cover my lips with his. He didn’t, though. Why would he? He doesn’t see me that way, and although it was lovely to see him smile and hear him laugh, and know he was relaxed in my company… I still wanted more.

So much more.

---