Callum & Harper (Sleepless 1)

“No! No you don’t, Harper! Stop! Just stop it!” I screamed at her, hugging her closely. Hands came from everywhere it seemed, comforting, warm hands were placed on our shoulders, backs and heads, telling us we weren’t alone.

“Oh God!” Harper wailed. “That poor woman!”

A police officer came up to our group and we noticed that they’d already begun to tape off the scene. We were asked to step aside to give statements as they brought John to an ambulance and it drove away, sirens screaming toward the hospital.

Harper and I sat on the concrete, watching as they took pictures, pulled my bike into a police trailer, and when they were finally ready for our statements, it was almost two in the morning.

While I recounted everything that had happened, I saw two firemen hose the woman’s blood off the wide concrete driveway and couldn’t believe she was dead. While Harper gave her statement, I stood next to her, her hand in mine and watched the scene around us. Charlie came and stood quietly next to us as did Cherry.

My stomach was queasy and I felt like vomiting every five seconds. And just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Charlie and I noticed a man about Charlie’s age running up to the scene, screaming the name Erica over and over. Two policemen intercepted him and the man fell to his knees when he saw them hosing off the concrete.

“No!” He kept screaming over and over, his hands tucked into his body, he face red at the effort of his screaming.

I prayed that Harper couldn’t see him but when her body seized, I knew my hope was for nothing. She looked at me and tears began to stream down her cheeks. I shook my head at her, a silent ‘don’t’.

o;Hey,” she said.

“Hey.” I swallowed hard.

“Should we, ya’ know, head toward The Ivories’ stage?”

I nodded my answer.

It was crowded so I grabbed Harper’s hand so I wouldn’t lose her. We weaved our way through sweaty bodies and watched The Ivories but I had a hard time concentrating on their set because I still possessed Harper’s hand and I finally realized she possessed my heart.

When The Ivories left the stage, Harper and I left to camp in front of the main stage to see Barcelona. The rest of the band told us they’d meet us after they broke down their equipment and placed it in their trailer. We sat on the grass, side by side, a silence building between the two of us and it was becoming shockingly awkward.

“Dude, Harper. Tell me what’s up.”

“Uh, noth...”

“Don’t say nothing, Harper. I may have only known you a few weeks but we’ve practically lived a lifetime in those few weeks. I know you. You’re upset.”

She sighed loudly and brought her knees to her chest, resting her cheek on her knee, facing me. “I’m embarrassed to say,” she admitted.

“Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m jealous,” she said bluntly, making me choke on my own spit.

“Wh-what?”

“I’m jealous of Sam. I don’t like her for no other reason than that she obviously wants you. There, I said it.”

Her face turned a bright red in the artificial light of the stage lights. I opened my mouth to confess everything but was interrupted by the roar of the crowd. Everyone stood abruptly, surrounding us as we stayed on the grass, staring at one another. I wanted to reveal all. I just needed everyone to quiet down enough that she could hear me.

“Hi, we’re Barcelona,” we heard over the thunder of the crowd. “Our first song is dedicated to Harper Bailey from Callum Tate,” he said right before the first resonating piano note of Please, Don’t Go began to play.

Tears began to fill Harper’s eyes. I stood and offered her my hand and to my utter relief she took it. I enveloped her in my arms and brought her close, squeezing her tightly against my chest. I brought her hand in mine to my chest and splayed my free hand across the broad of her back.

I bent slightly toward her ear. “You don’t have to be jealous of Sam, Harper. It’s not her I want.”

My hand rose slowly with her breath. We bent to the rhythm of our song, her face buried in my neck and my cheek resting on the side of her head. What I needed in my life was right there, in my arms. I closed my eyes and drunk in the most perfect moment of my life.

The song was over all too soon and we reluctantly pulled away from the other, realizing this meant there could be no more pretending.

“I think I’m fa...” I started to say but was cut short by the howling of my friends.

They teased us incessantly, embarrassing us both but I just held tightly to her hand to let her know we’d be talking, extensively, much later.