21. Harper
21
T he hurricane warnings and updates were still coming in for the island but at least it was light out and I could drive myself home soon.
Troy came into my room after breakfast as I was finishing up my sketch. “Hey.” He stepped in, eyeing my work. “Is that me?”
I looked up with a perked brow. “Who else?”
He nodded and slipped his hands in his pockets uncomfortably. “It’s impressive, Harp.”
I leaned back in the chair, admiring the draft myself. It was the one with the signs that cheered for him as he glided through the ice. “Thank you.”
“Can we talk for a minute?”
I pushed off the desk and stood, daunted by what this could be about. “If this is about the night you stopped by at my job drunk, don’t worry, I’m not holding it against you. You had a tough week.” I honestly felt bad for the guy. And even though I was annoyed he was pulling August into his problems, I was happy for the right twin to be back on the ice.
“It’s not that. I’ve been wanting to apologize for what happened on prom night. I mean I know I did that whole apology thing on national television…but I wanted to say it. I’m sorry.”
I thought I didn’t need this apology anymore. August had done enough for me to get past it. But this—coming from the offender himself, was somewhat freeing and I was grateful regardless. “It’s okay. I’m over it.”
“No. Harper, it was stupid and selfish and I was…well, I was an ass like Aug—I mean, like I said on the ice,” he laughed nervously.
My face dropped. So they’re still playing this game with me…
My heart plummeted.
“No worries. Really.” I cleared my throat and looked away, feeling hurt that August wasn’t the one in here apologizing for lying to me about who he was. I’d thought after last night…he had to have known that I knew who he was.
I was honestly too scared to call his name out last night incase my presumption was incorrect.
“No, it wasn’t cool and I need you to know that.”
“Is there anything else?” I didn’t care for any more apologies. It was August I wanted. And I needed someone to tell me it was him all along.
“Actually, there is. Can I ask you for a favor?”
I blinked. “I suppose.”
“There’s a Coach’s post-game party next Saturday. I mean the game is Friday, but the party is the next day. Will you be my date? It’s kind of black tie at the Brooklyn Park Tavern.”
I stared at him. Confusion swirling in my head.
What was I supposed to do? Was this Troy asking me out to attend with August or with him? Was he planning on all of a sudden showing up after missing weeks of games and practices?
If I said no—because there was no way I was ever attending any party as Troy’s date ever again—would August wonder why I turned him down?
“Sure, why not?” I answered meekly. One thousand percent sure I was going to regret this response that slipped out of me.
He beamed brightly. “That’s amazing. Thank you. You’ll have a great time, I promise.”
His choice of words soothed me somehow. Because he didn’t say we’d have a great time. Which might have implied that perhaps it was going to be August attending in his place.
I released a breath. My head starting to hurt again. “Great.”
At fifteen to noon, I stepped out to the kitchen with my coat and backpack. August and Troy were sitting at the small kitchen table. August was on his laptop, his eyeglasses on. He was focused but I saw a shift in him when I walked into the room. Grace was already whipping up lunch.
“Grace, thank you so much for having me and for the warm accommodations.”
“Oh, it was our pleasure, dear. Were you comfortable last night?”
August’s eyes flickered to where I stood, but I ignored it to avoid any chance of blushing. “Very.”
“It’s still coming down out there, and I heard it’s heavier when you get over the bridge. You sure you’ll be alright?”
August shut his laptop and stood.
“Who did you say is trying to leave?” Robert emerged from the living room with the Sunday paper.
I laughed lightheartedly. “I’ll be fine, really. I have Grace’s phone number now. I’ll call when I get home.”
“Not in that machine you got parked out front, you’re not.”
“Robert,” Grace warned.
“I’m not letting Harry’s daughter go out there in this. Leave your car here. I’ll bring it back on Tuesday when I head into Brooklyn. August, take her back to the city in your truck.”
“I was planning on just following her, but that’s probably a better idea. Troy, get dressed.”
“Troy’s staying here.”
“What, why?” August asked.
Robert put a tight arm around his still-seated son. “We had a chat earlier and decided that we need to spend some quality time together—at the gym, at the rink, watching some games replays, you know, guy stuff.”
August shook his head. “Fine, whatever, Harper you okay with that?”
“Of course.”
“Troy, get dressed, I’ll grab our skates.” Robert marched off toward the garage.
“Where we going?”
“To the rink.”
August laughed and I heard him mutter, “Good luck.”
I followed August to the front door and Troy raced behind, startling me when he spun me and took my hands in his.
“I’ll see you next week, right?” he asked softly.
My chest tightened. Umm….
“What’s next week?” August asked.
Oh no.
“Harper is my date to Coach’s party next Saturday.”
August’s heated gaze looked down at me. “Oh.”
I released a heavy breath and snuck a glance at him. His hard expression twisting my insides.
“Yes. Next week.”
Troy leaned in and kissed my cheek briskly when Robert called from the kitchen.
I turned away and looked up at August before stepping out of the house, the cold air on Halloween cooling down the burning I felt from my neck to my ears.
I was ready to explode if someone didn’t say something.
Between the three of us—the only honest person in the entire equation was Troy. Other than asking his brother to lie for him.
The ride was quiet for the most part until we hit traffic on the bridge.
August was angry and I knew I’d made a mistake accepting Troy’s invitation. Where the hell was the sign? How was I to know? What did I miss?
Frustrated, I buried my head in my hands and released a small groan.
“You alright?”
“No,” I answered honestly. “I have a headache.”
He lowered my window. “You need some air.” After a moment, he cleared his throat. “You feeling alright otherwise?”
For a hot minute, I considered telling him just how sore I was from all the fucking last night…but thought better of it. That was not how we were going to resolve this.
“Sure,” I muttered.
His eyes were back on the road and after I’d cooled off, I turned to look at him. His dark hair slicked to the side. His black-rimmed glasses perfectly positioned. He wore a new pair of faded jeans and a black sweater.
I smiled as I silently called him my Clark Kent.
He caught my gaze. “Something funny?”
“Not at all. I was just thinking how different you and Troy are.”
“Yes, we are.”
“I’m sure there are things about you Troy envies.”
He shrugged. “Like the fact that I can keep a shirt clean and do my own taxes? Yeah, doubtful.”
“Why are you so bitter?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Excuse me?”
Well there was no taking it back now.
“Did I do something to upset you?” I continued.
His response made me regret asking him this question. Because it nearly made me cry. Stopped in traffic, he turned to me and spoke in the coldest of tones. “I haven’t known you long enough for you to affect me in any way, Harper.”
Vision blurred, heart torn at the seams, I turned my head to the window. Unable to swallow the ball in my throat, I tilted my face against the wind to stop the tears in their tracks.
Twenty minutes later, and one aggravating conversation August had with one of his associates, we were finally over the bridge.
Decidedly, I texted "Troy" when I knew the text would go to August.
Me: I’m sorry, I don’t think next week is a good idea.
Swiping at the popup on his phone, August read the message. “Harper?” he asked after a moment.
“Yes?” I kept my eyes out the window.
“Is there something you need to tell me?”
I turned to him. “I haven’t known you long enough to need to say anything to you, August.”
He nodded slowly. “Understood.”
And to be honest, I’m done.
This one hurt. Not the way that it hurt with Troy. This one burned deep in my heart, slicing through all the layers down to the very core. Making it seem that what happened with Troy years ago just barely grazed the surface.
August was a heartless liar.
I’d come here for retribution. Instead, I got a sharper knife in the heart by his replica.