75.0

75.0
XAVIER

Be good to her. That's what the first blog on the Internet says when I search it up. Then some other shit that I know I've been doing. I can't find anything relevant here, nothing that addresses the specific, infuriating complication of my brother being involved. I mean, if these are all the things I'm supposed to do then why hasn't she picked me yet? Why is this so damn hard?

One even reads that I just have to be good to her and then she'll eventually make her choice. It sounds too simple, too passive for the storm brewing inside me.

If you're wondering, I looked up 'What To Do When You Like The Same Girl Your Brother Likes'. I glance at the search bar, and shake my head as I clear it out. I'm not even sure Damien has real feelings for her. He's always been a master manipulator, a chameleon, and this could just be another one of his games.

What if this is one of those times when he thinks this is a joke or something, a way to get under my skin? I haven't been civil with my brother for a long time now, not since... well, not since forever. That's why I'm pushing this thought in my head farther away, the one where we actually talk.

It's the one where we have a normal conversation. Like twins. Like grown up guys who need a permanent solution to this fucked up shit. A fantasy where we sit down, hash it out, and come to some kind of understanding.

But that's a no. There's no way I'm sitting down with Damien and talking about Harper. I'd rather cut my hand than talk to him about her, about my feelings, about his intentions. The thought alone makes my jaw clench.

"What are you doing?"

The way I turn around, my clutch around my phone is tightening, well... it's not exactly smooth. Who did I think it'd be? My eyes narrow at Skye and the large grin that's on her face.

"What was that?" I ask, trying to regain some composure, gesturing vaguely at her sudden appearance.

"I was just getting some air." She says, her voice breezy, as she plops herself beside me on the outdoor bench, a comfortable sigh escaping her.

I take my time to study her. The girl who's best friends with the girl I like. She's... calm and looks comfortable and happy, completely at ease in her own skin. If I'm correct, she and Harper go way back, a bond forged in childhood.

"So... you've known Harper long?" I ask, starting subtle, trying to sound casual, hoping she'll go easy on me, that she won't see through my thinly veiled attempt at information gathering.

She nods, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yes."

"How long?" I press, trying to gauge the depth of their history.

"Can't say. We grew up together." She smiles.

Yeah. Lucky you. I can imagine what it must have been like growing up with Harper. She's such a nice soul, caring and loving. Her childhood must be all roses and sunshine, filled with laughter and innocence. 

"Tell me about it?" I say, shifting a little closer to her.

She stares at me, her smile fading slightly. "If you're doing this to get into her good graces then..."

"I just want to know what it must have been like for her." I interrupt, trying to sound sincere, which, to be fair, I am. I genuinely want to understand Harper, her past, what shaped her.

"It was great. I used to sleep over in her place every time. You see... my mom worked late most times and Harper's mom considered me a part of their family. It was where I got to live my childhood fantasies... Harper had everything I didn't have. She had a father, brothers and sisters and I just had my mom. So... I loved spending time there and pretending I was part of their family. Then our mom wrote a book together and that was pretty much it. She used to have this red hair that..." Skye trails off.

I blink, trying to process the last detail. "What? Harper with red hair?" It's impossible to imagine the Harper I know, with her dark, lustrous hair, as a redhead. The image just doesn't compute.

Skye giggles. "Yeah, you can't picture that out?"

I glance at her hair. "Is that why your hair is red as well? Let me guess, you two decided to get matching hair colours?"

"No. When she left, I got my hair dyed just to have something to remember her with." Skye glanced down at her legs, her voice softer now.

Left. That one word could mean a lot of things. Disappeared. Ran away. Was taken. My mind races, trying to fill in the blanks, the puzzle pieces of Harper's past slowly starting to click into place. I'm grateful that Skye has pushed this far, that she's opened up this much. What I don't know is if she'll be ready to tell me more about Harper's past, about why she "left."

"So... happen to have any idea where she left to?" I ask.

Skye shakes her head, a shadow passing over her face. "Unfortunately no. We tried to look for her. I never really got over her disappearance. That's why I'm staying here with her this long. I need the closure. I can't imagine what her mom and siblings must be going through at this point in time. Even though it's been years." 

I nod. "I get it. I just don't get something. Did they know she was pregnant?" 

"They knew." 

I raise a brow. "And they were ready to support her?" 

Skye hesitates. "I thought I heard her mom say something about adoption to the police but... It's been years. I probably misheard and what's the point anyway? She doesn't want to be found." 

When I don't answer, lost in the implications of what she's just told me, Skye taps my arm, pulling me back to the present. "No." She says, her voice firm, knowing exactly what I'm contemplating, what dangerous path my thoughts are taking.

"Yes." I reply. I have to find them. I have to find Harper's family.

"Xavier no. Look how she reacted when she saw me. She'll never forgive you if you do that to her." 

"She'll understand eventually." I say.

"Hey look... Don't put yourself in that position. Just keep doing whatever it is you're doing, okay? Treat her right." 

Treat her right again. I get it. 

"Thank you for your time." I tell her, standing on my feet. "It is deeply appreciated."

She doesn't blink. Just stares at me, her expression unreadable. I don't want to try and figure out what's going through her mind. I don't want to. I don't know what she's thinking, and right now, I don't have the capacity to care. My focus is entirely on Harper.