“Alan came bounding up to me, acting so different. He teased me incessantly until I agreed to try the small purple pill he held out to me in a tiny plastic bag.” I sighed audibly. “I stupidly swallowed the pill.
“After that, Alan and I got high every weekend for two months. We both became addicted but I believe Alan was even more so than I. The first week we decided to ditch class to get high, I knew I needed to stop and I did. Cold turkey. And it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be but Alan...Alan couldn’t do it. He started ignoring me once again, ditching class, then school altogether.
“Several weeks later, I got a frantic call from him. He’d been to his dealer’s house to get more stuff but ran out of money and the guy was essentially holding him hostage for the rest of his money. Alan begged me to bring him some cash. I agreed but on the condition that he agreed to seek help, immediately.
“When I showed up, they’d already beat the living hell out of the guy. I refused to hand the dealer the cash personally and made Alan come get it from me. When he returned from paying his dealer off, I practically had to drag him home. Alan refused to go in and I knew that if I didn’t stay with him that the guy was going to kill himself. I brought him to my foster parents and snuck him into my room, stupidly thinking he hadn’t taken any drugs at the dealer’s house, that he needed the money so desperately to pay off old debts.
“But I was wrong. I’d fallen asleep after babysitting him for a few hours. I woke up early, around five or so, to a sleeping Alan, or at least I thought he was sleeping.
“Oh, God. No,” Harper said, brining her hand to mouth.
“I tried to shake him awake but he wouldn’t,” I choked out. “I beat the hell out of his chest, begging him to wake but he wouldn’t. My foster parents came into my room and tried to revive him but there was no use. He’d been dead for hours.
“My foster parents refused to believe I wasn’t using as well and kicked me out. I ended up at my last foster home that week.”
Harper unfolded her legs and faced me, sitting on her ankles. I face her as well, on the verge of losing my cool from the memory of my friend’s dead, lifeless face. She cupped her hands around my face and kissed each of my cheekbones, then each brow, brushing the hair back from my face and threading strands through her fingers, holding it in fists above my ears. I pull her closely to me, hugging her tightly. It was what we both needed in that moment.
I don’t believe two people have ever led lonelier lives than the lives Harper and I had led.
“I think I’ve been waiting my entire life for you, Harper Bailey.”
“I think I have, too,” she whispered.
I don’t remember falling asleep but I do remember feeling the best I’d ever felt in my entire life.
Chapter Six
The Knife
Callum
For the next two weeks, Harper and I worked our fingers to the bone day and night, saving every penny we earned, knowing Charlie would be returning and we’d eventually have to figure it out for ourselves. Oh yeah, it sort of also distracts me from having to deal with the growing attraction I was feeling for her.
No matter what I did, I could not stop myself from falling for Harper Bailey.
Every day, like a vision, she struck me like a starting gun with a sweet smile and a generous nature. She always made me a toasted bagel with cream cheese in the morning. A few days into our friendship, I discovered she didn’t even like coffee, the little liar, so I bought her a box of tea, instead. You’d think I’d given her a diamond when she saw the damn box. She was so elated, she’d begun to cry.
She was the hardest working person I’d ever met. She was frugal yet generous. She was an enigma and funny to boot.
“Good morning, Harper Bailey,” I said toward the ceiling, still lounging on the couch despite the fact that the sun has almost risen completely, meaning we’d lost any chance for work at the docks. But that was okay because we had worked at The Bowery the night before for enough cash tips that we should be alright to skip one morning.
Harper and I had several jobs. At three thirty in the morning, we usually headed for the docks, earning about a hundred dollars a piece there. We’d leave there at six thirty and catch the train back to Charlie’s where we would sleep until ten thirty or so, then head to whatever restaurant would take us. We usually pocketed an additional two hundred there and headed home once more where we’d sleep from around four in the afternoon until seven, only to work The Bowery until three in the morning, where we help clean up then head straight for the docks. In all, we earn around five hundred dollars a day and caught around seven hours of sleep. It was rough but we planned on getting an apartment together which was going to be difficult as hell for me knowing how I was starting to feel about her but it was the only way.
“Good morning, Callum Tate,” I heard her say. “We missed work this morning,” she said around a yawn.
I sighed. “I know. It’s alright, last night I think we earned three hundred altogether. We can afford to miss one morning.”
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “Because Charlie comes home today and we haven’t looked at a single apartment yet.” She stood on the bed and looked down at me. “We better skip work altogether today and clean this place up, then search for our own place.”
I leaned up on my elbows. I felt a definite crease in my hair and was slightly embarrassed knowing it was more than likely laying at strange angles. I attempted to run my hand through it but judging by Harper’s amused expression, I’d only made things worse.
“Okay,” I said, “let’s clean up, wash all the sheets and blankets and then count our loot before the apartment hunt.”
It only took us a few hours to finish everything up, leaving the apartment cleaner than how we’d found it. While the last load of sheets were drying, I popped around the corner and bought a paper to circle a few options close to campus before trudging back up to Charlie’s apartment to get an idea of what we’d saved.
When I walked in the door, I noticed Harper on the phone.
“Um, yes. Sure, sure. No, no, that’s okay. No, really, it’s alright.” She giggled politely. “Yup, alright. Bye.”