13. Jude
Chapter 13
Jude
I dry Rosie and dress her in warm clothes before taking her into the TV room and putting on her favorite movie. I’m still trying to wrap my head around what just happened as I head to the kitchen to make Rosie some hot chocolate.
What the fuck is wrong with Harper? She was literally just standing there, watching my sister drown. I make a mess on the counter when I shove a mug of milk into the microwave to warm it up, and absently wipe it up with a cloth.
Christ, I’ve been telling Dad since we moved in that we need to put a fence around that pool. I don’t care if it lowers the selling price, and he shouldn’t either. Same story with the damn CO2 sensors. I mean, after what happened with Mom, you’d think safety would be his first concern.
Fuck it. If he won’t, then I will. I know where he keeps his checkbook.
The microwave beeps. I tip a packet of hot chocolate mix into the steaming milk, and glare at the clumps that bob up. They refuse to disintegrate, no matter how much I stir.
When I get back to the TV room, Rosie’s asleep and sucking her thumb. I grab a throw and drape it over her. Her cheek is ice-cold when I press my knuckles to her face, but she’ll warm up soon enough.
I take a sip of her lumpy hot chocolate as I stare down at Rosie’s angelic face. She’s just as stubborn and determined as I am. I don’t doubt she went to the pool by herself—she did it once with my father too. But Harper should know better. Then again, she’s probably never had to be responsible for someone other than herself. I bet her days were spent doing whatever the fuck she wanted, her doting mother taking care of everything.
Polar opposite from my childhood. I’ve been taking care of Rosie since she was born; Dad never really knew how to handle her and Mom was always busy with work. Now things have gone from bad to worse.
Taking the hot chocolate with me—I’ll make Rosie a fresh cup when she wakes up—I head upstairs. My bedroom door slams closed, and I stare at it for a second.
I’ve got to relax. Nothing good has ever come from me losing my temper. Harper, Rosie, Diana—I want to shake them until their teeth rattle and then yell at them that the world isn’t a play park full of carousels and crazy fucking teacup rides.
People get hurt. They die .
I fall into the seat by my study desk and glare at my silhouette on the dark monitor. I should have gone with Rosie to the pool. My assignment could have waited for half an hour. But all I can think about is Cornell, and sometimes it seems like I can’t get there fast enough. I need the world to know that I’m not just a dumb jock.
I need to focus, but it seems impossible when Harper is right next door. Maybe I should move into the pool house for a bit. That would stop Harper sneaking in there to do God knows what all the time. Like she thought I wouldn’t see her yesterday?
There isn’t even a TV in there.
I sit back in my seat, frowning hard. Did she go and drink? She looked hungover as fuck this morning, and despite a heavy cloud of perfume, I thought I detected a hint of day-old booze.
I guess I can’t blame her. I thought she was more worldly than that, but maybe the sight of me jerking off scarred her innocent little mind. It’s obvious she’s not seeing anyone, and she wasn’t exactly hanging around with anyone at school. In fact, I couldn’t find her anywhere.
Maybe I have it wrong.
Maybe she’s not the monster I’m making her out to be. When we were in the pool house yesterday, if that had been the first time I’d met her, I might have said she was a nice person. Maybe even someone?—
Christ, here I go again. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I have to stop thinking of Harper as just some girl.
She’s not.
She’s bad news. Reckless, impulsive, and off-limits.
So why does she fascinate me so much? Why can’t I get her out of my head?
And what’ll happen if, next time we’re home alone, there’s nothing to stop us going all the way?