Page 44 of Deafened By Silence
“The title is the most important part!” She laughs and drags her laptop back. “It takes a lot of procrastination to settle on a topic. And thanks to you, I’ve picked one particularly close to home.” Leaning on her elbows, Harper flies into unpicking her brain, explaining her idea in full, step by step detail as if she needs to work through it out loud. “I found this study about DNA solution sent through cochlear implants with electrical pulses, tricking the cells into producing neurotrophies and regenerating nerves. Do you understand how insane that is?! I may not wantmy hearing fixed, but this is ground-breaking for everyone else who does.”
Excitement bubbles out of her, evident in the way her hands are alive, sketching invisible formulas in the air. She’s glowing. I would happily watch her talk about paint drying, but this? Her passion, her brilliance, her inner nerd. It makes my chest ache in a way I don’t have a name for.
“Wow,” I murmur, because she deserves awe, not my clumsy vocabulary. “And one day, you’ll be the one making headlines. Harper the girl who rewired the future.” Harper grins smugly.
“Damn straight. And Clayton the biomedical scientist will be right next to me, ridding the world of brain-eating disorders.” She winks at me and returns to my notes. I haven’t told Harper much of my life yet, but we swapped career goals a few nights ago, so that’s a start. I’ve kept my cards close to my chest for so long, I don’t know how to lay them down for her to see, but I want to try. Just not right now.
Flicking through the stack of textbooks she’d already prepared, I find a section on stem cell components that can help her start writing. We swap books, claiming my notepad back so I can continue outlining the next part of my essay. I told Harper I prefer to write on paper so she didn’t see the large ‘Property of Waversea Academy’sticker on the front of my borrowed laptop. I have too much pride, even if there’s nothing in my life to be proud of. Little does she know, I’ll be up half the night typing up my notes in bed.
The library begins to thin, students trickling out with dead-eyed groans. But Harper? She’s still at it,occasionally asking me to proofread a paragraph before moving on, alternating between chewing on her bottom lip and the cookies between us.
I, however, have barely managed to make a full page of notes. I scratch my hair beneath the black beanie I’m wearing and scrub my hand over my eyes. Either I’m too distracted or I’mburnt out, but since we have our science lab trip tomorrow, I needed to get as much done tonight as possible.
Yet I can’t bring myself to care about doing anything other than staring at her. Call this my procrastination. The wild pink curls spilling over her shoulder, the curve of her mouth, the faint brush of her foot against my leg. She probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing it, but I feel every pass like a live wire down my spine.
“Everything okay?” Harper asks suddenly, her voice so soft it feels like it’s only for me. Her foot presses more deliberately into my calf now, and I swallow hard. That wasn’t an accident. I sit straighter, dragging my gaze from her lips to her eyes. For once, I am okay. With her so close by, the loneliness I’m so accustomed to lingers in the background. The shadows don’t press in as hard.
“Yeah, actually everything’s?—”
“Honey, I’m homeeeeeee!”
A voice detonates across the library like a grenade, all swagger and venom. Even Harper hears him through the mic clipped to my shirt, her head lifting in alarm. Around us, panic ripples through the room. Students scramble, packing up half-finished essays, fleeing like rats from a ship they know is about to sink.
Rhys freaking Wavershit.
Just when I start to let my guard down, that bastard barrels back in like a shit storm. Striding from between the stacks, his gaze locks onto Harper instantly. My heckles rise at the possessive, dangerous edge to his smirk. It’s like watching a wolf spot prey, and my body moves before my brain does. I push back my chair, step around the table, and plant myself in his path. Arms crossed, jaw set, every muscle screaming for a fight.
“Aww, are we doing this again, Claybake? Has your leash been slackened enough to go toe to toe with me?” He doesn’tslow, sauntering over until we’re almost chest to chest and leaning into the mic clipped to my collar like he owns the right to speak through me.
“If you needed a tutor, Babygirl, you only had to ask.”
“And what exactly would you be able to teach me, Rhys?” Harper responds from her seat, a heavy dose of sarcasm in her tone. She meant to insult him, but his eyes glimmer with a thousand responses that will tip me over the edge.
“Oh, a great many things, but I was offering to get you the best tutor in the state.”
I shove him back, readying my fist to break every bone in his face when Harper’s hand lands on my arm. I just about restrain myself, although Rhys blows me a kiss and shoves passed my shoulder to tower over her instead. Harper is the image of calm with an amused smirk, and for a second I worry she might take him up on his proposition.
“Throwing your money around doesn’t impress me. I’m happy with the tutor I’ve got.” Her hand tightens around my arm and I puff out my chest. We may not have established what kind of friendship we have, if any, but she’s standing up for me. She’s choosing me.
Something begins to uncoil within, something I thought was long dead. The need to be seen, to be wanted. Usually I would turn back before it becomes too familiar, but there’s no point. Without even trying, Harper has made me ache for it all the same.
Returning to packing away her laptop, I join her side to collect my belongings, ready to get her as far from here as possible. A tattooed shadow rounds the table in my peripheral vision, leaning his hands on the wood in an attempt to get her attention. When he doesn’t immediately receive it, Rhys swipes everything from the table including the lamp, the cookies and Harper’s highlighters.
“You should know by now not to ignore me. Stop acting as if I haven’t been plaguing your mind since–” Holding up a hand to cut him off, Harper rounds the table, pressing herself into Rhys’ body. His eyes widen a fraction and as much as he tries to smirk like he’s got his own way, there is a flicker of fear tightening his expression. I angle my view, discovering Harper’s hand is clutched around Rhys’ balls through his sweatpants. I don’t have time to feel jealous when she twists and pulls, making even me wince.
“And you should know by now, I don’t care for your spoiled rich boy bullshit. Mommy and daddy didn’t give you enough attention growing up? Boo fucking hoo. We all have our baggage, and I’m bored of yours.” Harper releases him roughly and steps away, drawing a small gasp from Rhys’ parted lips. A crimson shade is creeping through the tattoos on his neck, merging onto his face. He shakes his head at himself on a low growl, throwing a fist into the table.
“People are talking about how you’re just leading this waste of space along, using him to boost your studies. Everyone can see it except for him. So pathetic.” Rhys’ lip curls back, his eyes blazing as they stare at me and if I’m not mistaken, I could swear he was jealous. Raising a brow, I play on this, digging up a small quirk of my mouth. His knuckles crack against the wood surface. Yep, definitely jealous. Harper is oblivious to it all, slinging her bag onto her back and tilting her head at him condescendingly.
“When you’re ready to talk to me without throwing your weight around, I’ll listen. Until then,” Harper unclips the mic on my collar and switches it off, cancelling out any further arguments. She moves to leave but he steps into her way. I was about to pick up her missed highlighters but I appear at her back, not thinking too much about that leash comment from earlier. Ready to launch into full attack mode, Rhys surprises usboth by taking Harper’s wrists and guiding her to where he sits on the table.
“Don’t leave,” he states plainly. I look around, finding us alone in the center of the library. Somehow in a rapid twist of events, I just became the third wheel.
“Why?” Harper asks. Rhys considers her, his fingers idly stroking her inner wrists as if he can’t stop himself. I know the feeling all too well, although I seem to have much more restraint. Watching them together now, I don’t know why I’ve bothered holding back at all.
“I want your attention,” Rhys admits, keeping his sentences short for her to read. His tongue toys with his lip ring almost nervously. At this point, I take a few steps back and put the table back to rights. The air between them grows thick with sexual tension, clogging my throat.
I’ve been with Harper both in classes and at this table all week, yet Rhys has managed to get physically closer to her in a few minutes. I can’t understand where the regret within me is stemming from, so I zip up my bag and decide to ponder on it later. Either way, it seems my work here is done. Two steps away from the pair, Harper’s voice travels to me.
