Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100612 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Yes.”
I doubt that.
My sister has a tablet and constantly watches TikTok despite having been locked out of the app by my parents several times. Too bad for them that Phoebe is smarter than they are and knows how to change parental permissions.
“Are you his girlfriend?” My sister is giving Harper the most disapproving look I’ve ever seen the child give another human, foot tapping on the hardwood floor.
“N-no,” Harper stammers.
“Hmm.” Her tiny lips are pursed. Glossy and pursed…
She’s probably wearing some expensive lip stuff she saw on the internet and begged my mom to buy her. She’s totally a product of online advertising.
“You can leave now,” I tell her, aggravated by her tiny attitude.
“You leave,” she sasses. “This is my house, too.”
“Honest to God, Phoebe…”
“Don’t swear,” she scolds me, as if “honest to God” were the worst thing she’s heard me say.
Her gaze darts to Harper, and I know she’s enjoying acting like a little brat in front of my new friend.
“Where is Cobie?”
Phoebe rolls her eyes at the mention of my younger brother. “Where do you think?”
“Hockey?”
“Duh. And Mom says you better hustle because Dad is expecting you to run drills tonight.”
Shit. He would be expecting me to run drills.
I want to strangle my sister for interrupting us and splashing me with a cold bucket of reality.
“Okay, you know what? You can leave, Miss Smarty Pants. Get out.” I take our mom’s glasses, put them in my sister’s hand, and shoo her away. “Give these to Mom. I want to talk to Harper for a second.”
“Fine.” She narrows her eyes at us both. “You better not linger.”
“Get out!”
Reluctantly, Phoebe clutches the glasses in her small fist, dragging her sneakers on her way to the door, throwing us one last look over her scrawny shoulders before finally stepping outside.
“So,” Harper says. “That was your sister, hey?”
“Yup.”
“And Cobie is…your brother?”
“Yup.”
“Well…” She pauses. “Can’t say I’m not mortified.”
I laugh. “Don’t be. She is a beast. And only acting like that because of what she sees on TV. Pretty sure she watched Euphoria when no one was paying attention.”
“We need to stop doing this.” Harper’s voice is quiet, as if she’s expecting my sister to walk back into the she shed. She cranes her neck the slightest bit to peer around me to the door.
“Doing what?” I ask, even though I suspect I know what she’s referring to.
“Kissing. Making out. You like Maddie Miller, and we’re just friends.” Her words are firm but with an edge, holding a slight hint of something she isn’t saying out loud.
I swallow hard.
I do like Maddie, or at least, I thought I did. I mean, let’s be real: Can’t a guy like two people at once? Is that a crime? Why do I have to stop kissing one girl because I asked another girl on a date? What’s the big deal?
“Friends don’t make out every chance they get,” she continues, her voice sharper. Resolute. As if she’s drawing a line in the sand. Boundaries, if you will—and I know all about boundaries ’cause my mom is in therapy and talks about them all the friggin’ time. Setting boundaries is one of her favorite topics; she does it with her clients, her parents, and also—my dad.
“Some friends make out every chance they get,” I blurt out. It’s not exactly the argument I wanted to make, but it’s true, isn’t it? There are friends who kiss, who blur the lines and make it work to remain friends. Why can’t we?
Isn’t that what friends with benefits are?
I’m helping her with her prom situation, she’s helping me not get arrested. We can help each other by making out every once in a while, can’t we?
Harper laughs despite herself.
“Touché. But still.” Her expression softens, but there’s a sadness in her eyes that I don’t like seeing. “No. More. Kissing.”
She crosses her arms.
“Harper…”
“Easton. We can’t keep doing this.” Her tone is determined. “It’s just going to make things more complicated.”
“Complicated how?” I shove my hands in my pockets. “It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
“I don’t want to be your ‘in-between’ girl or a rebound.” She says the words softly, bowing her head. “I don’t want to be the one you kiss when you’re not with Maddie, or when you’re confused. I’m worth more than that, Easton. Don’t you think?”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut.
She’s right.
Harper is worth so much more than that. And the fact that she feels like I would use her makes me feel like an even bigger asshole; as if I would kiss her out of boredom just to fill some void.
“I’m a dick sometimes, but I don’t use people,” I protest. “I would never do that to you.”
“I didn’t say you were a dick, and I didn’t say you were using me. I’m saying I want to be careful and make sure that…doesn’t happen.”