Callum & Harper (Sleepless 1)

“Cherry, this is Harper. Harper, Cherry.”

Harper holds her hand out. “Nice to meet you, Cherry.”

“Oh, baby, one thing you gotta’ learn about me is I don’t shake hands.” Harper pulled back, offended. “I hug,” she finally offered, pulling Harper in fast. “And any friend of Callum’s, here,” she said, eyeing me dubiously over Harper’s shoulder, “ is a friend of mine, baby. Anything you need, you let me know, ‘kay?”

“Thank you,” Harper said.

“Alright, got places to be, people to see. I’ll see you ‘round, C.” She smiled then leaned in and whisper teased, “Who is this girl who’s stolen my Callum Tate?” She pulled back and waved at Harper. “Take it easy, Harper. Nice to meet you, honey,” she said, heading toward the busy cross street, already signaling for a taxi. “By the way,” she yelled, I’ll put yours and Harper’s name on the list at The Bowery. We go on at eleven.” We watched her get in the cab and it sped off.

“Let’s go,” I said to Harper.

“To Charlie’s, I assume?”

“Of course. We’ve got ourselves a bath tub and a washer and dryer, again. We hit the jackpot, baby,” I said, borrowing a word from Cherry’s vernacular.

Charlie’s flat is in the Village, which is unfortunate that we hadn’t stuck around Martin’s restaurant as it would have spared us the subway fare to The Hope House but then again, I would have missed the kissing dance outside its exterior and I would have paid a million fares to experience that again. It’s an amazing flat but up seven flights and no elevator. By the time we reached the top, we were both slightly winded.

“I don’t know how he does this every day,” I admitted, resting on the wall outside the top of the stairs.

“No kidding. Good gracious, at least he gets his cardio in.”

I opened his door and welcomed Harper in. She stepped through into his cozy loft and glanced around.

“It’s small and he pays a fortune for it but just look at it.”

Inside the five hundred square foot apartment is a small living and kitchen area, a bathroom complete with tub and a platform library loft that houses the bedroom. The entire thing, save for the bathroom, is open with fifteen foot high ceilings and dark stained shelves as far as the eye can see, accept the kitchen wall, even the stairs leading to the library loft have built in shelves. And they’re all full of books. Charlie was the most prolific reader I’d ever met in my life.

“This is amazing,” Jules said.

“Truly,” I said. We both looked in awe upon our cozy surroundings. “So,” I continued, clapping my hands together, “shall we?”

We threw both our bags onto the floor behind his mid-century upholstered sofa, which ran parallel to the long kitchen island. It was an ingenious use of the small space, making it feel much larger than it actually was. I took her to the window in the kitchen next to his small dining set. Through it, was a balcony with wood decking and a virtual ceramic pot garden with ivy growing up the brick facade. Cherry did all of this for Charlie. No, not for Charlie, for Charlie. The girl was head over heels in love with him but he was too busy being blind as a bat to see it. Not wanting to interfere, I never said anything, but the blockhead was taking forever to notice. Maybe Harper might have an idea as to how we can awaken him to the idea? Wait, dude. The last thing you want is a gorgeous, charming Harper talking to Charlie. He’ll steal her. I shook my head to clear it. You’re an idiot. She’s not even yours. She can’t be stolen if she isn’t yours, I argued with myself.

“This is beautiful,” she whispered, her hair dragging across her face as she leaned further out the window to admire the balcony’s garden.

“Yeah, Charlie writes all of his songs out here.” I turned toward Harper. “Lots of inspiration.”

She grinned.

“Laundry?” She asked.

I can’t help but chuckle. “What is it with us and clean clothing?”

“We’re hygienic, I guess?”

“Yeah, again, you never know when we’ll get the chance to clean them again. I’m what you call, ‘opportunistic’.”

“I can relate.” She sighed. “Trust me, I can relate.”

“How about this,” I offered. “We shower and all that jazz, get ready for Cherry’s show, take our stuff and do a load, then head to The Bowery.”

“Deal. I’ll go first so I can dry my hair.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Never lived with a girl before?”

“Actually, no,” I said thoughtfully, just now realizing the truth of that.