Chapter 52 HARPER
“We’re… we’re skipping classes?” I asked, eyes wide as I glanced from Tyler to Peter.
After Tyler had declared his new goal as my new best friend, he’d said we were going to need some help. Now I understood why.
As for Peter, two words had been all Tyler needed to convince him.
“We’re ditching.”
Peter had turned around so fast it was comical. The problem? The entire hockey team—and half the twelfth grade—had followed him.
Now, nearly fifteen students stood behind me, buzzing with excitement.
“Um, don’t you think fifteen people missing from class after lunch might raise suspicion?” I asked.
“Make that eighteen,” Racquel called, her voice carrying across the hall. “You guys weren’t planning to leave without me, were you?”
“Yes, duh. No one invited you,” Peter scoffed, giving her a flat, exasperated look.
Racquel brushed off his jab with a flick of her hair. “Yeah, well, I don’t feel like sitting through another hour of America’s not-so-interesting history, so count me in.”
“No, you’re not coming with us,” Tyler said, glancing over his shoulder at her. “We’re doing this for Harper. Unless you’re ready to take the fall and spare her if things go sideways, you can’t come.”
“Is Harper having some kind of birthday party or something?” Cassie whispered from behind us.
Everyone jumped. I bit back a scream.
“Damn it, can you at least give a warning?” Billy hissed, clutching his chest.
Cassie grinned, pushing through the crowd to my side beside Tyler. “Maybe don’t be a wuss and a lawbreaker at the same time.”
The boys snickered. Cassie just nudged my elbow, flashing a small smile—her new, quieter way of acknowledging me since her fight with Megan. I smiled back.
“Okay, we’ve got less than five minutes before the next teacher comes in and notices we're missing,” Tyler said, snapping his fingers to get everyone’s attention. “The hallway’s clear. Get to your cars or pair up with someone. We’re meeting at Miller’s place. If anyone gets caught, don’t rat out the rest of us. Got it?”
Everyone nodded.
“Know who you’re riding with before you head out.”
“I didn’t bring my car, but I’m sure you don’t mind if I ride with you,” Racquel chimed, twirling a curl and batting her lashes at Tyler—in front of everyone.
Tyler rolled his eyes. “In case you missed the memo, Harper’s riding with me.”
“Yeah, but there are like nineteen of us, and maybe ten cars. You’ll have to carry more than one person. You know that, right?”
“I know,” he said flatly, “and I’m saying exactly what I said. Harper’s riding with me.”
“What about the rest of us?” she pressed.
“I’m. Riding. Alone. With. Harper,” Tyler spelled out, his tone hardening. “Sort yourselves out.”
My chest swelled a little with pride as he took my hand, pulling me gently behind him.
“Or better yet,” Peter added, “don’t come.”
Racquel glared. “Nice try. I’m sure some of the other guys don’t mind me riding along with them.”
She glanced around, but several of the boys kept sneaking looks at Tyler, as if waiting for permission.
When no one offered her a ride, her mouth fell open in disbelief.
“You can ride with me,” Sarah, the third member of her snobby trio, piped up.
The look Racquel shot her made the poor girl shrink behind Claire. Even Claire tried to edge away.
“When you’re done sorting yourselves out,” Tyler said, turning to guide me toward the doors, “meet us at the bar. You’re all free to give Racquel a ride—I really couldn’t care less.”
That was apparently the cue everyone needed. Within seconds, the boys started offering rides one after another.
I turned just in time to see Racquel bask in the attention while Peter followed behind us, a disgusted look on his face and Cassie glued to his side.
“I really don’t know how you survived that girl for two years, Cap,” Peter muttered.
Tyler sighed as we stepped into the sunlight. “Me neither. It’s one of life’s greatest mysteries.”
A smile tugged at my lips. The way both of them despised Racquel was oddly fascinating—and, to be honest, satisfying in a way I couldn't quite justify.
I slipped from Tyler’s hand to head for the passenger side of his car, but he brushed past me to open the door first.
“Oooh, rare footage of Tyler Mercer showing chivalry,” I teased, imitating a reporter’s voice.
He grinned. “Isn’t that what best friends do?”
“Um, I wouldn’t know. Megan doesn’t hold doors open for me.”
He laughed, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Petition to replace Megan then, as your number-one bestie?”
I tapped my chin playfully. “Hmm, petition under consideration. Maybe it can be our little secret.” I winked.
He mimed zipping his lips and tossing away the key. I laughed.
I was about to say something when he leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. My heart stopped as his eyes flicked down to my lips and lingered there.
Then, slowly, he stretched his good arm across me and clicked my seatbelt into place.
The belt had already locked, but his gaze still hovered on my lips before lifting to meet my eyes. I swallowed, unsure what to do or say.
A loud honk—Peter’s—snapped Tyler out of it. Peter’s car shot past us, tires screeching as he sped out of the parking lot.
“I know he’s about to turn this into a race,” Tyler said, gripping the wheel. “You gonna be okay?”
I nodded, though my mind was still racing for an entirely different reason, caught somewhere between admiration, disbelief, and a little flutter of excitement.
His engine revved, pulling us onto the road. I couldn’t help but watch him—the way his messy blond curls fell across his forehead, framing his face perfectly. His lips curved inward as he focused on the road, completely unaware of how unfairly beautiful he was, how utterly effortless he made everything seem.
This was my new best friend?
Boy, was I lucky.