Chapter 23
Trying to Impress – Jack
I still can’t believe she’s here and standing before me.
“Please, Jack.” She leans into my chest, but I back away.
“No, Harper. No. This is crazy. How did you even know we were in Morocco?”
“That doesn’t matter. What does is that I rushed here to make amends with you. I miss you, and I —”
With a finger in her face, I demand, “Don’t you dare say it.” Her saying she loves me feels oddly like a knife being twisted in my back.
“But I do.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
Jenkins isn’t back yet, which I hope isn’t a bad sign, and Bryant’s bedroom is far enough away that I don’t think we’re disturbing him. But at any rate, I’m making sure not to raise my voice too much.
“Please, can’t we just try this again? You can’t deny that there’s still something electric between the two of us.”
Ugh. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t still find her attractive. But when I remember the kind of person she is on the inside, she resembles the most grotesque person I’ve ever seen.
“Absolutely not.”
She sits down on my bed and crosses her legs. “Why? Is it that plain Jane out there that has your heart now?”
My jaw clenches. “Don’t talk about her like that.”
“Oh,” she nods, “there is something there.”
“It’s none of your business.”
She’s obviously getting desperate because when she stands up again, she grips her belly and says, “What if it’s our business.”
I have to laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Due to severe endometriosis, she had a hysterectomy when we were still together, and I nursed her back to health.
“Dammit. That’s right.” She punches toward the ground.
Then, she giggles too. “That was really stupid.”
My lips curl in on themselves, and I tilt my head while still keeping her gaze. “You think?”
“I’m sorry. I just—I just want another shot.”
I unbutton my sleeves and roll them up. “Why? And don’t say the ‘l’ word.”
She crosses her arms and sways a little. “I guess I just realized what a stupid mistake I made by hurting you.”
Now I sit on my bed. “Well, I appreciate that. I really do. But…”
“It’s too little too late.”
She plops next to me, and we bounce up and down.
“Honestly, yeah.”
“So, is it that girl that I saw you with by the pool?”
I sigh before making eye contact with her again. “No.” I know her all too well. Even if she’s acting like my buddy now, if I tell her about whatever it is that’s going on between me and Kayla, she’ll do her damnedest to insert herself somehow. “Right now, the only thing I’m hoping to score is a contract with Yannis Drakos.”
“Oh!” She takes some folded paper out of her clutch. “About that.”
I can’t make heads or tails of whatever is handwritten on it.
“My father wrote down a few phrases you can use to impress Yannis. He wrote them out phonetically.” She shrugs one shoulder and smiles enough that her dimples show. “I don’t know. I just figured it might help you.”
That’s right. Her dad is Greek.
“The translations are on the back.”
I flip it over and read, “The food is delicious; This is a beautiful country; The local people are very friendly; People are always very helpful here; The history in this country is so extensive; and others.”
“Thank you, sincerely.”
“You’re welcome.” Then, after patting her thighs, she stands up and excuses herself for the night.
I’m impressed. Either than showing up out of nowhere and the bizarre fake baby thing, this was one of the most mature conversations I can remember us having in a long time.
The next day, I’m sitting out in one of the chairs on the shared patio when Harper comes up to me. I turned her list into flashcards.
“Need some help?”
“I’d love it.” I can’t figure out how to pronounce some of the words.
She smiles and wiggles next to me. Today, instead of being all dolled up, she’s wearing a black and white turtleneck t-shirt with black pants and a straw hat on her head. Of course, she has her signature red lipstick on, though.
“Okay, this one is, ‘ Den ixera oti afti I hora ehi toso spudea logotehnia,’ ” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
I laugh. “Slower, please.”
She repeats it, and I try to follow along.
“And what does that mean again?” I flip it over. “Right. ‘I didn’t know this country has so much great literature.’ Seriously?”
She shrugs and holds her hand out. “He told me all of this would impress a local speaker.”
“Alright.” If anyone should know, it’s him, and I want to pull out all the stops for Yannis.
“What next?”
I shuffle through them and find another. “This one.”
“ ’Mu aresi pos akuyete I glosa.’ Maybe it would help if I added the accents, I don’t know why he didn’t.”
She takes the pen out of my hand and makes little tick marks over certain letters.
“Is that better?” She hands it back and I examine it.
Chuckling again, I confess, “Not really.”
“Try,” she encourages.
“Okay.” I clear my throat. “Mu arési to pós akúyete i glósa.”
“See? Better!” She claps.
I pretend to bow. “Thank you, thank you.”
All in all, other than helping me out with Yannis, this morning reminded me what I loved about her. She can be very funny, and she’s very smart.
But still, I can never experience the heartache that she caused me again. So, if she wants to be anything more than friends, I am not interested.
With all of that in mind, I coax Bryant into going out with me again later that night.
“Seriously?”
“Please? We’ll have fun, I promise.”
He huffs. “I highly doubt that.”
“Come on! Jenkins, you’re in, right?”
“Hell yeah!”
His enthusiasm does not sit well with me, but it does aid in helping get Bryant hyped.
“I got the four-one-one from Denver that everyone is going to a club called Diwan Menara, and it opens at 7:30, so we don’t have to be out super late.”
The bottom of his nose flares out, and his lips get taut. “Fine.”
“My man!”
With that, I shower and pick out my outfit. As much as I hate to admit it, I desperately want to catch Kayla’s eye, so I take a note from Amine and dress somewhat like he was last night.
It’s a much more casual look than I typically go for, and the expressions on my friends faces communicates their recognition of that.
“What?” I raise my arms and give them a twirl. “I wanted something different tonight.”
Bryant nods. Unlike me, he looks like a poet from the 1930s, which is his usual look when out of uniform.
It’s obvious by the sight of Tyler waiting near the front of the building for us that he’s coming along.
“Alright. Are we ready men?”
“Let’s go!”