Page 76 of Tagging Bases

Harrison is quiet for some time, his expression not giving anything away. Then, slowly, he reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together. His palm is warm and grounds me in the midst of my emotional upheaval. “Charlie. I had no idea you felt this way. I’m sorry if we’ve ever done anything to make you feel differently.”

I shake my head vehemently and squeeze his hand. “No, no, you and Daniel have never made me feel different. Not once. It’s more my hang-ups, you know?”

He lifts our joined hands and presses a feather-light kiss to my knuckles. “Charlie, I—” The lights flicker, letting us know act two is about to start. “To be continued.”

The night airnips at my skin, and I notice Harrison shivering slightly in his thin leather jacket. Without asecond thought, I shrug off my suit jacket and drape it over his shoulders.

Harrison glances up at me, surprised by the gesture. “Thanks, McManus. But won’t you be cold?”

“Nah, I’m used to chilly Pennsylvania nights. This is nothing.”

He smiles and slips his hand into mine. I can’t believe how natural it is to be walking hand in hand with Harrison through Times Square.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” I say, staring at everything in wonder. “The whole world is here, all at once.”

Harrison nods, his eyes scanning the towering buildings and flashy advertisements. “It’s nothing like Bushwick, that’s for sure. Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

“How would you feel about coming with me on another one of my nighttime excursions?”

I furrow my brow, not quite following. “Nighttime excursions? You mean, like a midnight stroll through Central Park?”

Harrison chuckles, shaking his head. “I’m talking about tagging another building.”

My eyes widen, and I nearly stumble over my own feet. “Wait. Just you and me? Not Daniel, too?”

He bites his lip and nods. “I get the feeling that while he enjoyed it, the fear of getting caught outweighed the thrill of being a rebel. But for you…”

I don’t even have to think about it. I love the thrill of being a rebel. I didn’t do all those dares from Olivia for nothing. “I’m so in.”

“Great,” he beams.

“How did you get into such a thing, tagging buildings?” I ask as we wait at a crosswalk.

Harrison’s expression softens, and he smiles wistfully. “It started in high school. I was going through a lot of shit at the time, trying to figure out who I was and where I fitin. One night, I snuck out of the house with a backpack full of spray paint and a head full of anger. I poured all my frustrations onto the walls of an abandoned warehouse until the sun came up.”

I may not have grown up with the same pressures as Harrison, but I know what it’s like to be lost and alone, desperate for a way to make a mark on the world.

“After that first night, I was hooked,” he continues. “I sought out more places to paint, to hone my craft and find my voice.”

“Wow. H, that’s incredible. You found a way to turn your pain into something beautiful and meaningful.”

Harrison lowers his head, and even though it’s nighttime, I can see his cheeks tinge red. “I don’t know about beautiful,” he mumbles. “However, it did save me in many ways. It gave me an outlet. A purpose.”

The scent of roasted nuts and soft pretzels wafts from a nearby cart as we cross the street. Snippets of conversations in dozens of languages float past us, adding to the ambience of the Big Apple.

Suddenly, an idea pops into my head, and before I can second-guess myself, the words come tumbling out of my mouth. “Hey, so, uh, I know this is kind of out of the blue, but my mom’s birthday is coming up in a few weeks. We’re gonna have a big party for her, and I was thinking that maybe you could come with Daniel and me? Meet my family and all that?”

Harrison stops walking and turns to face me with wide eyes. “You want me to meet your family?”

I rub the back of my neck, suddenly sheepish. “Well, yeah. I mean, you’ve already met Daniel’s parents. I figured it’s only fair that you meet mine as well.”

“Charlie McManus, are you asking me to be your official plus-one to a family function?”

“Well, more of a plus-two, but yes, I believe I am.”

His laugh warms me from the inside out. “Then how could I possibly say no to such a dashing invitation? I can’t wait to seewhere you grew up and meet the people who made you, well, you.”

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