“Well, you’ve been in the army for pretty much your whole adult life so far, seeing as how you went into basic just before you turned nineteen,” Mom points out.
“There’s that, and the fact that I don’t really know what I’d do outside the army,” I say.
“You have great skills, and you’re really a lot more disciplined than you were before you left,” Mom tells me.
“I could see about going to college, or transferring my certifications into something in the civilian world,” I say, almost more thinking out loud than anything else. “I really don’t know.”
I finish up half a bowl more of pasta salad, and decide that before Mom gets any bright ideas that might lead her to ask me questions I can’t answer, I’ll go back to my room.
I start playing Tekken on my PlayStation. Of course, that makes me think about Harper and I groan, even as I’m playing a tournament against the computer, because it seems so damn pathetic not to be able to get her off my mind.
I know she’s been avoiding me since our fight, but I don’t know if that’s because she’d really rather never see me again, or because she thinks it’s going to be awkward and wants to put it off until she absolutely can’t anymore. She could just be busy, but I don’t really believe that.
There is going to have to be something done between us before dinner tonight, or sitting down with her parents and mine is going to go absolutely pear-shaped. FUBAR, as my commanding officer likes to say. But it can’t come from me.
Harper made it clear at the lake that she doesn’t even want to talk to me, that she didn’t even want to be in the same room or the same place as me. I’m pretty sure she’s probably cooled down by now or she wouldn’t be in her parents’ house, but I don’t know.
You could text her and see if she’s at least interested in talking, or if she’s still pissed at you.
But then almost right away I push that idea out of my head. If I text her and she’s still pissed, that’s going to make dinner that much more awkward. I have to hope that Harper is going to decide to do the right thing and somehow get in touch with me.
Just when I’m on the point of deciding to leave the house out of sheer boredom, my phone buzzes. At first I think it’s one of the guys from the base, wanting to confirm when I’ll be back, but instead I see, as soon as I check the screen, that it’s Harper.
We need to talk, don’t we?
I grin to myself. I’m relieved that at least Harper’s willing to reach out.
We do. What do you think we should do?
Obviously, in the middle of the day and considering the situation, we can’t meet in our usual spot. I don’t even think that the lake is necessarily a great idea.
We need to hash everything out. We need to do it before dinner.
I almost roll my eyes. It was obvious enough that I didn’t even think it needed to be said, and yet Harper had said it.
Right.
We can’t meet at the usual spot, so we need to figure out somewhere we can both go. I think to myself that at least Harper isn’t still so pissed at me that she can’t stand to even talk to me. That is a good thing, even if the rest of the situation is pretty shitty.
Do you know if your parents know about the other night?
I think about that question for a moment. From the conversation I had with Dad, I almost figured that he knew that I was talking about Harper, but neither of us had mentioned her name. I have to assume that if he did know about her, that he would have said so directly.
I don’t think your mom said anything to them, at least not yet.
We need to find a place where we can meet privately.
I know she doesn’t mean it that way, but I can’t help but think of what I want to do with, and to, Harper as soon as I get her alone. I can’t, I know that, but I want to all the same. She was so good that in the back of my mind, ever since the night we had sex, a fantasy of having her again has been playing steadily, right along with everything else going on in my head these past few days.
Let me think of something. If you figure something out, text me.
I sigh and put my phone aside, trying to think of somewhere we could go. It’s not easy. Our parents will probably be watching us like hawks, even if it’s for different reasons. We need a getaway.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
HARPER POLSEN
Maybe fifteen minutes after Zane tells me to let him think of somewhere for us to meet, it occurs to me — the perfect place for us to go to, and where they’re even less likely to end up accidentally finding us. I just don’t know if the place in question is still standing.
I debate whether it would be worth it to go there myself and scout it out before I suggest it to Zane, but finally decide that even if the landmark I have in mind isn’t still standing, we can make use of the place where it should be. After all, we’re only going to go there to talk, aren’t we?