Chapter 12 Harper
Harper
What the hell?
I glanced around, my heart pounding. It had been weeks since any of the Richies had bothered me about my parking spot. I thought that was over. And then I spotted my car near the chain-link fence by the industrial yard, looking slightly off-kilter.
I glanced around again. No sign of anyone, no snickering bully, no message on the glass.
“Okay,” I muttered, taking a steadying breath. “At least it’s here. No harm, no foul. Right?”
The door was locked. No sign of forced entry, as they say on the crime shows. I climbed in and pushed the button and gas, but the car wouldn’t start, and the check engine light came on.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, no…”
I didn’t know the first thing about cars, but I knew it had something to do with the fact that my car was sitting a little bit tilted. I climbed out and peered underneath. Sure enough, a huge, jagged rock had punctured the undercarriage.
They lifted it. They picked it up and set it down on a fucking rock.
Tears came, and this time I couldn’t keep them back.
“Harper?”
Orion. He looked fresh from row practice, in CHA athletic pants and a hoodie, and so damn handsome. Somehow, he was both the exact person I wanted to see and also the last person I wanted to see.
I turned my back, quickly wiping my eyes.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. Someone moved my car. They put it on a rock and now it won’t start. It’s fine. It’s fine. I can manage—”
“Slow down, love,” Orion said to me gently, even as that dark, menacing expression came to his face again as he glanced around. “Breathe.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I said, panic rising in me as the shock wore off and the implications set in. “This is going to cost a fortune, and I have to get my brother from school…”
“Okay, hold on. One step at a time,” Orion said. “The best place in town for repairs is Ralph’s on Harbor Avenue. I’ll call a tow truck—”
“I can’t afford a tow truck,” I said, humiliation burning my cheeks. “My brother has an afterschool program. I have to get him by four thirty. I have Triple-A. I’ll call them. I don’t need your help.”
Orion stood with his arms crossed. “I’m not leaving you.”
I started to protest, but that duality of wanting him yet not wanting him wrapped around my heart. I hated for him to see me like this, and I didn’t want him to leave me. I didn’t want to do this alone.
I’m so fucking tired of doing this alone.
I called the tow service and thanked the gods of geography that Rhode Island was tiny. It arrived in ten minutes, and a guy in blue coveralls attached my car to his truck. But I’d still never make it to Dash in time.
“I have to call the school,” I said. “By the time I get to Ralph’s, get the car handled, then call an Uber—”
“Harper,” Orion said, his voice smooth, cutting through my frustration and panic. “There’s no time. I’ll take you to get Dash. The tow will take the car to Ralph’s.”
“It will? I don’t have to go with?”
“No, ma’am,” said the tow truck driver. “Call ahead, and they’ll get you situated.”
“I’ll call ahead,” Orion said. “You talk to the gentleman here.”
“Oh. Okay,” I said. “I’ve never done this before.”
“No, worries, young lady,” the driver said. “I’ll take the car to Ralph’s. You do whatever you need to do, then call them when you’re ready. They’ll run a diagnostic, give you an estimate, then you authorize the work. Got it?”
I nodded. Diagnostics and estimates. I had a credit card with a tiny limit for emergencies, and if it wasn’t enough, I’d have to dip into the savings account I’d been dutifully cultivating my entire life. My stomach twisted.
While Orion called the repair shop, I filled out the tow truck paperwork, and then watched as my car was hauled away. That left me with five minutes to get Dash at his school, which was ten minutes away.
“I’m not going to make it.”
“Come on,” Orion said, giving my arm a gentle tug. “My car is here, and I drive really bloody fast.”
We hurried across the campus to the Atlas Hall parking garage. Orion’s expression was grim again.
“Do you know who did it?” I asked.
“I have an idea,” Orion said. Anger smoldered in his dark eyes.
“Your friends.”
“I told them not to.”
I nearly tripped. “You knew they had this planned?”
“I’ll deal with them later. Let’s get this handled first.”
I’ll deal with them later.
Even in my distressed state, the threat came through loud and clear. The menace was alive in Orion’s eyes, but his calm confidence was what I needed more.
The Atlas Hall parking garage was filled with luxury cars, but to my untrained eye, Orion’s was the finest of them all.
Didn’t James Bond drive an Aston Martin?
And even though we were in a tearing hurry, Orion opened the passenger door for me, then made up for those ten lost seconds when we hit the road. He hadn’t been lying—Orion drove really bloody fast.
The interior smelled of his cologne, leather, and money.
I watched, half scared, half turned on (shocked I could be turned on in my present state of anxiety), watching him maneuver the stick shift and pedals, his eyes on the road with that same calm confidence.
Orion drove with a wholly masculine authority over the car, commanding and masterful.
I bit my lip, watching him, wondering if I were still allowed to be a suffragette for Halloween with these thoughts running through my head.
We made it to Dash’s school in minutes, but I was still late. The school was deserted.
My little brother was sitting out front on a bench with a woman who looked to be in her early sixties, with silvery blond hair and a bright smile. If she was annoyed that she’d had to wait, she didn’t show it.
Dash ran up to me. “Harper! Harper! This is my teacher, Mrs. Andolina.”
“Hi, I’m Dash’s sister. I’m so sorry. I had car problems and—”
“Don’t you worry at all, my dear,” Mrs. Andolina said. She had a scratchy voice and a thick Boston accent. “These things happen.”
“Thanks for understanding. This is my friend, Orion.”
Dash stared up at Orion with wide eyes. “Your name is Orion? Like the constellation? We were just learning about constellations! Right, Mrs. Andolina?”
“That’s right. Orion the Warrior. The brightest in the sky,” she said with a smile. “The constellation lost sailors use to find their way home.”
Orion crouched on his heels in front of Dash. “Hey, little man. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“You have? My name means run very fast. Did you know that?”
Orion rubbed his chin. “I might have heard that, but it is true?”
“It is true!” Dash said. “I swear.”
“Hmmm. I think we need a race.” Orion glanced around. “You see that flagpole over there? Do you think you can beat me to it?”
Dash’s eyes lit up. “Heck yeah!”
Mrs. Andolina and I watched, her beaming, as Orion and Dash lined up on the sidewalk.
“On your mark, get set…go!”
I expected Orion to give Dash a head start, or to run slowly, but he took off and was soon ten strides ahead.
Just when I thought he was going to crush my little brother’s heart, Orion pretended to trip and took a roll in the grass in front of the school, tumbling at least three times before landing on his back.
He lay spread eagle, breathing heavily. Dash, laughing at Orion’s antics, touched the flagpole for the win.
Mrs. Andolina nudged me with her elbow. “Oh, I like him.”
I nodded, a heavy ache in my chest. Yeah, me too.
“Dash?” Orion called. “What happened? Where am I?”
My little brother came running back to Orion and pounced on his stomach with both knees. Mrs. Andolina and I both winced out of solidarity.
“Orion, I won!” Dash cried. “Are you okay?”
“I was,” Orion wheezed. “Until you thrashed my internal organs.”
I burst out laughing on a day when I thought laughing was impossible, as the two rolled around in the grass.
Mrs. Andolina smiled at me. “Who is this lovely young man?”
“He’s… He’s…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence.
Mrs. Andolina patted my hand. “I see.”
Orion held Dash up in the air so Dash could pretend to be an airplane, and the ache in my heart deepened.
My little brother had never known a decent male authority figure.
One who wasn’t drunk, loud, or resentful of a rowdy little kid being in his space, which wasn’t even his space at all, but ours.
“We should go,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m sorry we kept you.”
“Don’t you worry about it. But give them a minute.
They’re having fun,” Mrs. Andolina said, compassion and love pouring out of her.
She seemed to be one of those people who was put on the planet to be a teacher.
As if her scratchy voice came from years of shouting over loud classrooms of joyful kids, and she hadn’t stopped smiling in decades.
“Dash told me you moved here from Pittsburgh,” she said, as Orion gave Dash a piggyback ride around the front of the school. “And how has it been?”
I nearly gave her my rote fine, but told her the truth instead.
“Not great, honestly.”
She nodded. “Moves can be hard. Leaving everything you know and starting over is rough. My husband, Frank, and I moved here from Woburn and have been in Castle Hill for twenty-three years. I’ve been teaching here all that time.
All the parents know me because I love what I do.
I love their kids and the kids love me, which is a blessing.
Some even still visit me long after they’ve grown up and gone to the Academy. ”
I smiled politely, wondering why she was telling me all this.
“Frank and I have a dog. The muttiest mutt you ever did see. His name is Spike, and he has only one eye, but the kids love him.” She looked up at me.
“Like I was saying, the parents know me, and if they have scheduling difficulties, or if their kids need a little bit of extra help or are feeling a little bit lonely, I’m happy to babysit.
Though I don’t consider it babysitting, and I certainly don’t charge for it. ”
I glanced at her and she nodded, her smile gentle.