Stealing Harper

“I’m. So. Exhausted.”

“It was so worth it though! Now you’re finally ready for college.”

Looking at the garbage bags full of most of my old clothes I laughed and let my head fall back onto my pillow. “I think you’re right.”

“Now we just need to get you comfortable being around cute guys and you’ll be golden. What’s your type?”

Your brother. “Um, I’m not sure I have a type.”

“So no preferences? Hair color, eye color, skin color? Athlete, geek, musician?”

Rugged surfer, with dirty blond shaggy hair, impossibly blue eyes, the most breathtaking smile you’ve ever seen and cover him in tattoos. I’ll take that, please? “Nope, none. We’ll just have to start from scratch.”

Just thinking about his tattoos had me biting my lip and fantasizing again about tracing them with my fingers. He was exactly the kind of guy Sir would hate, so naturally I was drawn to him.

“Hey Bree?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s kind of something I’ve wanted to do for a whi— You know what, never mind.”

She sat up on her knees bouncing, “No you don’t! You have to tell me now. You’ve wanted to do what?”

“Well there’s a lot of things. But it’d probably be a bad idea to do them all at once. I should spread them out, and think about them more.”

“I’m waiting Harper.”

I sighed and scooted up against the wall, “I want to get a couple piercings.”

“Pfft, I thought you were about to say something juicier than that.” Figures she wouldn’t be excited, each of her ears had four piercings.

I frowned at her.

“Okay, okay! What piercings do you want?”

“Um, I don’t know what they’re called. But here, and here.” I pointed a finger to my upper lip, and another to my ear.

“Oh cute! Your lip is called a Monroe, and your ear is a tragus. I actually really want my lip pierced too! Do you want to go get them done together sometime?”

I looked down before stealing a sideways glance, “Could we maybe go right now? Eighteen years of not being able to do what I want, I’m kind of impatient.”

“Harper, I’m pretty sure we’re going to be best friends.” Without another word she shot off her bare mattress and headed for the door. Guess that means we’re going.

I’m really glad she knew the area, because she drove right to a tattoo parlor, and after chatting it up with the piercer, we were sitting in his room picking out the studs before I could even think about this possibly being a bad idea. To my surprise, I wasn’t even nervous ’til I was sitting on his chair and he was putting the markers on me. “Oh my God, Brea

She laughed and sauntered up to me.

“Don’t laugh, you’re next.” That shut her up.

“Okay deep breath in.” The piercer said, “A

My eyes were watering, but thankfully it was done. I glanced in the mirror and a huge smile crossed my face, I absolutely loved them.

“Oh my God those are perfect for you! Ahh. I’m so excited for mine now!” Bree had also decided to get her tragus pierced so we both were getting two, but she and the piercer had agreed her bottom lip would be better for the way her mouth was set.

Another ten minutes and hers were done, I made her eat her words when she grabbed my hand at the last minute and squeezed until I thought I’d never get the circulation flowing again. We paid the guy and ran to her car, looking into the visor mirrors before we left.

“Are your parents going to mind?”

“What? No way. Have you seen my brother? They love his tattoos so they aren’t going to care about this. Besides I’m pretty sure I couldn’t get them mad at me even if I tried.” She laughed, “Let me guess, daddy’s go

“Ha! Yeah, I’m almost positive he’s going to try to rip them out. Good thing I’m not going home for ten months!”

“Ten months?! What are you doing for winter break?”

I shrugged, “Stay here. It wouldn’t be much different than being there. We don’t spend much time together if we’re in the same house.”

“Jeez Harper, you had the most depressing childhood didn’t you?”

“Not really, I mean it’s all I’ve ever known. I thought it was normal until a few weeks ago when you and I started e-mailing.” I think I need to stop talking about my past, because I always seem to depress everyone. “So . . . di

She smiled and turned to glance at me, “You read my mind roomie, let’s grab some burgers then we can stay at my house tonight. We’ll move my stuff into the dorm tomorrow.”

FROM ASHES

1

Cassidy

“DO YOU EVEN know anyone who’s going to be there, Ty?”

“Just Gage. But this will be good, this way we’ll be able to meet new people right away.”

I grumbled to myself. I wasn’t the best at making friends; they didn’t understand my need to always be near Tyler, and when I’d show up with bruises or stitches, everyone automatically thought I was either hurting myself or Tyler and I were in an abusive relationship. Of course that wasn’t their fault; we never responded to them, so the rumors continued to fly.

“Cassi, no one will have any idea about your past, the last of your bruises will be gone in a few weeks, and you’re gone from there now. Besides, I hate that you don’t have anyone else. Trust me, I understand it, but I hate it for you. You need more people in your life.”

“I know.” I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself, covering where some of the bruises were. Thank God none were visible right now unless I stripped down to my skivvies, but I couldn’t say the same for some of the scars. At least scars were normal on a person, and the worst of them were covered by my clothes, so I just looked like I was accident-prone.

“Hey.” Tyler grabbed one of my hands, taking it away from my side. “It’s over, it will never happen again. And I’m always here for you, whether you make new friends or not. I’m here. But at least try. This is your chance at starting a new life—isn’t that what that favorite bird of yours is all about anyway?”

“The phoenix isn’t a real bird, Ty.”

“Whatever, it’s your favorite. Isn’t that what they symbolize? New begi

“Rebirth and renewal,” I muttered.

“Yeah, same thing. They die only to come back and start a new life, right? This is us starting a new life, Cass.” He shook his head slightly and his face went completely serious. “But don’t spontaneously burst into flames and die. I love you too much and a fire wouldn’t be good for the leather seats.”

I huffed a laugh and shoved his shoulder with my free hand. “You’re such a punk, Ty; way to kill the warm and fuzzy moment you had going there.”

He laughed out loud. “In all seriousness”—he kissed my hand, then met and held my gaze for a few seconds before looking back at the road—“new life, Cassi, and it starts right now.”

Tyler and I weren’t romantically involved, but we had a relationship that even people we’d grown up with didn’t understand.

We grew up just a house away from each other, in a country club neighborhood. Both our fathers were doctors; our moms were the kind that stayed home with the kids and spent afternoons at the club gossiping and drinking martinis. On my sixth birthday, my dad died from a heart attack—while he was at work of all places. Now that I’m older, I don’t understand how no one was able to save him; he worked in the ER, for crying out loud, and no one was able to save him? But at the time, I just knew my hero was gone.

Dad worked long hours, but I was his princess, and when he was home, it was just the two of us. He’d brave tiaras and boas to have tea parties with me; he knew the names of all of my stuffed animals, talked to them like they would respond; and he would always be the one to tell me stories at night. My mom was amazing, but she knew we had a special relationship, so she always stayed in the door frame, watching and smiling. Whenever I would get hurt, if he was at work, Mom would make a big show of how she couldn’t make it better, and I’d have to hang on for dear life until Dad got home. She must have called him, because he would run into the house like I was dying—even though it was almost always just a scratch—pick me up, and place a Band-Aid wherever I was hurt, and miraculously I was all better. Like I said, my dad was my hero. Every little girl needs a dad like that. But now, other than precious memories, all I have left of him is his love for the phoenix. Mom had let Dad have his way with a large outline of a phoenix painted directly above my bed for when I started kindergarten, a painting that’s still there today, though Mom constantly threatened to paint over it. And although I tried to keep a ring he’d had all his adult life with a phoenix on it, my mom had found and hidden it not long after he died, and I hadn’t seen it since.