Chapter 37 HARPER
By the time we got back to school, my head was still spinning. The air between us in the car had gone quiet again, too thick to cut through. I didn’t know what I’d expected from that drive—maybe for him to open up, maybe to feel less like I was talking to a locked door. But now it was just awkward silence wrapped in engine noise.
He parked, said nothing, and climbed out. I followed, brushing a strand of hair from my face as the wind carried the faint smell of rain.
The moment we stepped inside, I knew something was off. The hallway shouldn’t have been this loud during class hours. Voices collided, clipped and restless, like static before a storm. Students huddled around the middle lockers, phones out, whispering, and craning to see.
Tyler frowned beside me. “What’s going on?”
I didn’t answer, because I already recognized the voice slicing through the noise.
Megan.
My stomach sank.
We pushed through the crowd just in time to see her standing opposite Cassie, both flushed and furious. Jax hovered near them, looking like he’d rather vanish into the floor, while Peter and a few of the hockey guys stood tense, ready to intervene.
“Don’t act innocent!” Megan snapped, holding her phone up for everyone to see. “You think posting that picture was funny? You knew exactly what you were doing.”
Cassie crossed her arms, tone dripping with mock sweetness. “I didn’t post anything. Maybe you should ask your boyfriend why he put himself in that position in the first place.”
“He’s not my boyfriend!” Megan shot back. “And maybe you should stop throwing yourself at every guy who talks to you!”
Cassie’s smirk faltered, but only for a second. “Careful, junior. You’re out of your depth here.”
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Jax stepped forward, eyes flicking between them. “Megan, just stop, okay? This isn’t helping.”
She turned on him, voice shaking. “Don’t you dare defend her.”
Jax looked like he wanted to disappear. Peter grabbed Cassie’s arm when she tried to step closer. “That’s enough, Cass.”
She wrenched free. “No—it’s not. Maybe if she wasn’t so delusional, this wouldn’t even be a scene. They’re literally not dating.”
“Yeah,” Megan choked out, her voice trembling in that familiar way it did when she was angry. “But he’s been leading me on for weeks!”
Cassie snorted, rolling her eyes. “Girl, please. You didn’t just make a scene over a guy who hasn’t even asked you out.”
The ripple of whispered ‘ohs’ ran through the crowd. I cringed, feeling secondhand embarrassment for Megan.
I’d told her not to, had begged her to let it go. But she hadn’t listened. In her mind, Cassie was the one throwing herself at Jax, even though I’d seen them both flirting. She wouldn’t hear reason.
“Maybe if you didn’t already have a reputation as a slut, I wouldn’t even be talking to you,” Megan finally spat, regaining some composure.
Cassie’s jaw dropped. Words failed her as she lunged, and I jumped in, blocking her before she could reach Megan.
“You guys, can we please not do this here?” I pleaded, my voice shaking as they glared at each other, poised to tear one another apart.
“She started it first!” Cassie yelled.
“She’s just hurt,” I cut in, trying to coax her into calming down. “You two need to talk this out like humans. You could get expelled over this.”
“Ugh, spare me the lecture, Harper,” Megan snapped. “Maybe if you’d told me about them earlier, none of this would’ve happened.”
“Megan—”
But she was already backing away, shaking her head. “You know what? Have him for all I care. You sluts both deserve each other.”
She spun on her heel and stormed off, Jax calling after her in vain. Cassie rolled her eyes, muttering something I couldn’t make out, before Peter pulled her away. The crowd slowly dispersed, buzzing with the latest gossip.
I just stood there, throat tight, heart hammering as though it couldn’t decide whose side to take.
Tyler’s voice came from beside me, uncertain. “You okay?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t. “Yeah. Just… done.”
He didn’t press and walked back to class.
The rest of the day dragged. My mind kept replaying the fight—the anger on Megan’s face, Tyler shutting me out again. I tried to focus during our last period, but every phone buzz made my stomach tighten knowing it was the group chat buzzing with gossip about the fight.
When the final bell rang, I packed slowly, stalling. I didn’t want to go home yet, but I didn’t want to stay either.
Outside, rain had begun again, harder than it had been this morning. My phone buzzed, and I checked it, half-expecting a message that might make me have to defend my best friend. But it was my dad.
Dad: Dinner tonight? Just you and me.
Me: Sure. Where?
Dad: Same place as always. Six o’clock.
A small smile tugged at my lips. Exactly what I needed—a distraction from today's drama.
At home, I changed into jeans and a sweater, brushing out my wavy curls until they settled into place. The mirror reflected someone trying too hard to look calm. I sighed and grabbed my bag.
By the time I got to the restaurant, city lights shimmered against wet streets, a mix of gold and reflections in puddles. Dad was already at a corner table, smiling when he saw me.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hey,” I said, sliding into the seat across from him. “You look tired.”
He chuckled softly. “Occupational hazard. How’s school?”
“Complicated.”
He raised a brow. “Complicated how?”
I hesitated. “Just… people being people.”
He nodded, as if he understood. The waitress came by, took our orders, and left.
Then his expression shifted. The faint smile he’d been holding faded.
“Harper, there’s something I need to tell you.”
My stomach dropped. His tone was careful, measured, like he’d rehearsed it.
“Okay,” I said cautiously.
He rubbed a hand over his jaw, eyes fixed on the water glass before him. “Your mom and I… we’ve decided to separate.”
The words hit like a punch to the chest. “Wait… like—”
“Divorce,” he said quietly.
For a moment, the restaurant’s noise faded. Rain tapped against the windows, silverware clinked somewhere in the background—but it all felt distant, muted.
“Since when?” I managed, my voice barely a whisper.
“It’s been coming for a while,” he admitted. “We didn’t want to say anything until we were sure.”
I stared at my plate, trying to steady my breathing. “But you assured me you were both going to be fine last week.”
He sighed. “We didn’t want to worry you. But it’s not your fault, okay?”
I nodded, though the words rang hollow in my ears.
Dinner went on in strained silence. I pushed food around my plate, pretending to eat. My phone buzzed once—probably Megan—but I couldn’t bring myself to check it.
When it was finally over, Dad offered to drive me home. I declined gently, saying I needed a walk. I stepped out into the rain, wrapping my arms around myself.
Halfway down the street, I stopped under a streetlight and pulled out my phone, fingers trembling as I typed everything about dinner; Dad’s words, the silence, the way the world suddenly felt smaller. I hesitated before sending it. Megan probably still hated me after what happened, but she was still the first person I wanted to tell.
My thumb hovered over the send button for a long second. Then I hit it.
The message went through. No reply.
Raindrops slid down my face, cold and biting, but I wasn’t sure I felt them anymore. Somewhere between the rush of passing cars and the glow of the streetlight, it hit me—I’d been right all along. I was going to be a child of divorce.