“Hey Sam,” I said, never taking my eyes off the glorious Harper. Sam forcibly distracted me from Harper, grabbing my arm and twisting it around her own waist. “Uh, what are you doing, Sam?” I asked, unwinding myself from the death grip she held on the hand she placed at her hip.
“What am I doing? You are a silly goose. I’m saying hello to my friend.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Oh, I see. Am I interrupting?”
“No, it’s okay, Sam,” Harper said politely.
I beg to differ.
Sam turned towards me. “A few of us are heading over to Cherry’s afterwards. I would love it if you could come, Callum.”
“And?” I asked, looking pointedly at her.
“And, what?” She played dumbly.
I snorted sarcastically. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, refusing to buy into her game. “Harper and I have had a crazy day. Unless, wait a moment.” I turned toward Harper. “Would you want to go, Harper?” She shook her head no, fighting a smile. “Yeah, we’re probably going to go crash at Charlie’s soon. You remember Charlie, don’t you, Sam?”
All the color drained from her face. “Of course I remember Charlie. What kind of question is that?”
“Oh, nothing, Sam. I just wanted to make sure you still did, is all. Tell the gang I’ll catch up with them later, will ya’?”
I captured Harper’s hand in mine and lead her toward the exit. We burst out into the hot summer night, relieved to be away from the sweltering bodies inside.
“All I want to do is crash out,” I confessed.
“No kidding. First, shower, then, bed. I’m exhausted,” she said.
I smiled down at her. “I’m happy you came with me.”
“They were surprisingly awesome,” she admitted.
Chapter Five
Holdin' On To Black Metal
Harper
Callum and I readied for bed in very little time as we were both drained but also because, I suspect, we were eager to talk. This was one thing I loved about Callum. He was actually interested in things I had to say, something I’d never experienced before and made me feel extraordinarily special.
“You take Charlie’s bed. I’ve made a pallet on his couch.”
“Okay,” I conceded without argument. It would’ve been useless.
I’ve learned that he loves to argue, which I believed falls just short of his love for winning an argument. I climbed the bookcase stairs into the elevated loft. It was open to the living room just below and I could see Callum clearly.
“What are our plans for tomorrow?” I asked him, burrowing my legs beneath the soft sheets.
“Oh, I was thinking the docks. The pay is better and we only have to work for half the hours we would have to for the restaurant for the same pay. It’s slightly harder work. Think you’re up to it?”
“I am.”
“Harper?” He asked.
“Yes?”
“Where did you grow up at?”
“Well,” I said, laying on my back, settling in for a long explanation. I tucked my hands behind my head. “It depends on my age at the time. I really don’t remember any of my foster parents before the age of three or four. I do have memories that fall back father than that, though it’s not so much a visual memory as it is a memory of how I felt.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asked, laying back as I did. The lights from the city cascaded through the window next to his body, creating deep shadows over his muscles, making my fists clench beneath my head.