Chapter 17 HARPER
“Hey. Can I talk to you for a sec?” I asked Peter, pulling him away from a few teammates who’d arrived at school early.
“What’s up?” He leaned in a bit, his voice dropping softly. “Did Cap take the ticket?”
“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.”
He straightened, pressing his lips into a tight line as he shook his head with a half-laugh, half-sigh. “I really thought you could convince him.”
“I tried,” I said with a shrug. “It’s up to him now whether he comes or not. On the bright side, he took the ticket.”
“Oh.” He arched a brow, surprised, before tilting his head. “Then what’s this about? Is it Racquel? Because I swear I’ll—”
“No.” I held out a hand to stop him as he started to move past me. “I can handle Racquel. It’s something Tyler said yesterday.”
He froze, his attention snapping to me, alert now. “What is it?”
“Why do you really want Tyler at this party?”
He gave me a skeptical look. “Are you okay?”
I sighed. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Tyler thinks you’re inviting him because of the privileges his presence brings.”
“The fuck? Why would he think that?”
“Um, maybe because you haven’t visited him since his injury,” I spat, a little surprised at the sudden bite in my voice.
He had the decency to look ashamed, which made me almost feel bad for him. But the other side of me was still very judgmental and needed an explanation.
“I’m not exactly the sentimental type,” he finally said. “I just didn’t know what to say to him, especially after seeing him in so much pain.” His eyes flickered up to me. “I swear, Harper, I’m inviting him out to make up for it.”
I believed him, and I’d also been right with my assumptions. The problem now was that Tyler would never buy into this unless he could see for himself how sorry his friend was.
“I’m going to make sure he comes, alright? But do your part and make things right with him again.”
He nodded. “I promise. Just get him there.”
Never in all my years as a student had I skipped class—and definitely not to stand in line for a festival ticket. When I’d mentioned yesterday’s session and my confrontation with Peter, she’d reminded me of the key problem I’d forgotten; I didn’t have a ticket.
“Mom’s going to kill me if she finds out,” I groaned, shifting on my feet as I silently counted the number of people before us.
“And it’ll be worth it,” Megan cooed. “You cannot convince Tyler to show up and end up not being there. He’ll literally kill you.”
“I highly doubt that. If Peter really wants to make things up with him, then I doubt he’d even notice my absence.”
“Not when you’ve made it clear that you want him there. Trust me, it’ll be you he looks for when he arrives at the festival tomorrow.”
I found it hard to believe. Megan was saying all these things to keep me standing with her in line. She knew if she said anything to fuel my uncertainty, I’d dash out of the line and run all the way back to school.
I tilted my head back, exhaling, partly from tiredness and partly from letting Megan talk me into coming here.
“You do know you could have come alone to buy it for both of us, right?”
“Right,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And stand in line alone, talking to myself? Where’s the fun in that?”
At least she was honest.
The sun had finally dipped low by the time we got to the front of the line and bought our tickets. I handed mine over to Megan, knowing if I took it home, I’d forget it in my room tomorrow.
“So, what next?”
“Ugh, therapy,” I groaned, unsure whether to dread it or be excited.
Megan laughed. “I thought yesterday wasn’t so bad?”
“It wasn’t, but who knows the mood he’d be in today.”
“Or you know, you could always take a day off. I’m sure Tyler won’t mind.”
I shot Megan a look. “Right. Because skipping on a therapy session with a guy who already thinks I’m wasting his time sounds like the perfect idea.”
She grinned. “You make him sound like he’s the problem, not you.”
“Because he is the problem, what do you mean?”
She chuckled. “Relax, I’m just pulling your legs.”
I huffed, turning toward the bus stop. “I’m starting to think therapy session with Tyler is more fun than hanging out with you.”
“Ouch.”
I smirked. “Relax, I’m just pulling your legs.”
She nudged me playfully in the shoulder before leading the way to wherever it was she wanted to take me to this time.
“Uh, where are we going now?”
“Come on, live a little. We’re going to see the boys' away game.”
“The boys?”
“My brother and his teammates, duh?”
I gave her a skeptical look. “Are you sure we’re only going there to support your brother?”
She looked back at me with a mischievous grin. “Of course not. Mark really doesn’t care if I come to watch him or not.”
I stopped in my tracks, glancing up at the sky. It looked more like a storm was brewing now than a sunset. Going meant I’d have to miss one day when I’d only started working this week.
“Megan, as much as I would love to, missing one day of work—”
“Ugh, Harper, I’d rather you want to bail on me to see mr. hot face than give me that flimsy excuse. It’s half-past six,” she snapped, checking her phone. “Who the hell still holds a therapy session at this hour?”
I considered it for a second, but the idea of giving Tyler another reason to call me unreliable kept me rooted to the spot. Then, without warning, the sky opened up, literally making the decision for me. Tyler’s house was a mile away, but the team’s away game was happening just around the corner. Besides, there was no way Tyler would go to watch the game—not with him still having issues with his best friend who was now his position’s replacement.
Megan grabbed my arm, pulling me after her as the rain pelted around us. “There’s no way you’re going to bail on me now that you’ve gotten us drenched.”
“Fine,” I laughed, enjoying the way the droplets dribbled down my skin and seeped into my clothes.
By the time we got to the venue, we were drenched to the bone, our teeth chattering. Wrapping our arms around ourselves, we hurried inside, heads bowed as everyone turned to stare—two soaked mummies dripping across the floor.
I’d located a seat at the back row of the bleachers—far from most of the students but still a good spot to watch the game—when a familiar chirpy voice cut through the noise, followed immediately by an even more familiar, furious one from a row below us.
“Leave me the fuck alone, Racquel,” Tyler growled.
Megan and I froze. Tyler was here. And he was sitting right in front of us.