Page 36 of My High School Rebel Boyfriend
You see, in her arms I felt comfort, solace...a connection that made my world right itself, a warmth that reminded me of being tucked up in bed sleeping next to my Mom...beforehecame along.
Yeah, it was a mistake to have held Harper Dent in my arms.
But it was the best mistake I could have ever made.
I GOT A TWO SECONDwarning that Wade was about to enter my room. Heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor from the kitchen to the hallway came to an abrupt stop, my door handle shaken and twisted (always the wrong way), before he stormed in.
“Got a job for you tomorrow night,” he said. Well, he didn’t say it, he bellowed it, like a captain giving orders. “Need extra security. I said you’d do it.”
Wow, thanks Wade. Don’t ask if I have plans, don’t ask if I want to do it, yeah, just make decisions for me.
You’re right, I didn’t say any of that, I let it float through my mind.
“Yeah? Where?” It wouldn’t pay to show my annoyance.
“Covington Country Club.” The words flew off his tongue with a hint of embitterment. Well, anyone who lived in Jackson Park had natural resentment for those who lived across the bridge in those million dollar mansions on the hill. “There’s a fundraiser ball. Need extra staff.”
“What time?”
“Seven till midnight. You’ll get paid.”
“Thanks,” I said with fake gratitude. Wade had volunteered me for several shifts over summer. The company only hired me when they were extremely short, they generally preferred staff to be over eighteen and my birthday wasn’t until January, but people generally took one look at me and assumed I was older. I’d had to collect tickets at a jazz music festival once, and another time had to stand outside a private members room at the race track. It had been boring but it was money.
“It should be a piece of cake,” he said, and actually smiled. That made me suspicious. He’d have me standing outside in the cold wind or filling toilet paper in the restrooms or something like that. “Watching the rich drink themselves silly, should be a blast,” he said with a sniff of sarcasm.
“What about Mom?” That was our point of unity—her welfare.
“Yeah, she’s okay with it,” he said, “She said she’ll be fine.”
“‘K,” I said.
“Yep.” He hesitated, grabbing hold of the doorknob, staring down at his boots. “You’re okay?” He was meaning the injuries. Strange, he always asked how I was after a beating, as if showing a scrap of concern nullified his actions.
“Yep.”
With a nod and a clearing of his throat, he shut the door.
And I knew there was no sense in trying to understand any of it.
Chapter 15
HARPER
I GOT HOME FROM SCHOOLto mayhem—Mom and Dad were yelling at each other, Mom from the kitchen where she was pouring coffee, Dad from the living room where he sat on his recliner, his leg elevated and covered by a blanket.
“It’s the worst timing ever,” Mom was saying.
“It’s no big deal,” Dad yelled back.
“Of all the days!” She let out an exasperated sigh and put the mug and a plate of cookies on a tray and took it through to Dad.
“Your father fell down the stairs at work,” Mom said to me, her face red from the exertion of shouting. I’d come in on the tail of it. “Tripped over his own feet!” There was a distinct lack of sympathy.
I knelt by Dad’s chair, trying hard not to smirk. “Is it broken?”
“No, it’s not broken,” Mom answered, “he’s just pulled every ligament possible.” She let out a frustrated cry, then turned to me. “That’s it sweetie, you’ll have to come to the Fundraiser with me tomorrow night.”
“See, that’s all she’s worried about,” Dad sniffed, “the silly fundraiser.” I peeped beneath the blanket, seeing the ankle wrapped in an ice pack.
