bed.
“Hiding.”
The idea was crazy to me. Have you ever seen someone’s face when they’re hitting the bag so hard you know they’re going to throw up when the round is over? I’d seen her like that.
“You kidding?” I said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. My weight moved the lump under the blankets, she was so little. “Why?”
“I look like something that lives under a bridge.”
I laughed. “No, you don’t.”
“Well, I feel like something that lives under a bridge.”
I grabbed hold of the blanket with my left hand and gave it a little tug, felt the give on it, and pulled it down over her head. Down to her waist.
Man, she was wearing nothing but a tank top that I could see, all ruffled up under the covers, leaning back against those pillows with her hair all messed up.
Jesus Christ.
Even with her tired eyes and pale skin, for a second—just a second—she looked like what I suddenly knew she’d look like after sex. Do I even need to say what that did to me? It would have brought me to my knees if I wasn’t already sitting down, and it was nothing compared to the real thing.
But that was later. That was after everything changed. That was the best night of my life, the night Harlow and I first made love.
But before then, in her room, just seeing her all mussed up in a tank top, no bra? I don’t know if she knew what was going through my mind. She thought she looked terrible, I thought she was gorgeous. But she let me look. She let me look, and she looked so damn happy to see me. We were both just quiet for a moment while I stared at her.
Then she smiled a little and said, “Lie to me.”
“You look like something that lives under a bridge,” I said.
Harlow opened her eyes wide, her mouth open, trying not to smile too much, and threw one of those pillows at me.
“You said lie!” I laughed at her.
“So we’re lying to each other now?”
I shrugged. “Special circumstances, when you need lying to, sure.”
Harlow narrowed her eyes and gave me one of those wicked grins. “Ok. You’re going to lose your fight,” she said.
If she’d jabbed me then, I swear to God she could have knocked me over. Then I started to laugh my ass off.
Harlow had seen how hard I’d been training for that fight with Manny Dolan, and because of that she was maybe the only one who knew how important it was to me, even if I hadn’t said it outright. I always liked that, that she let it alone unless I wanted to bring it up. But I knew she knew how important it was, that it was live or die to me, and she took this thing I was worried about and made it harmless. Made it funny.
She was fucking amazing.
I threw the pillow back and said, “Pops says it’s fine now, and you should come by the gym. Says girls can fight.”
“Yeah? My parents hate you.”
“I didn’t want to tell you this, Lo, but you’re gonna fail the SATs,” I said.
Harlow laughed until she started to cough, but that one actually made me think. Because the truth was that Harlow was going to ace that test, and she was going to go to any college she wanted to. I was the one who was going to stick around, maybe get a job with my godfather. And I hadn’t thought much about that. How, in less than two years, she’d be gone.
It didn’t feel so good, I’ll be honest. But knowing what I know now? I wish to God I could have traded the future she got for one where she got to take that test like a normal girl, go to college like a normal girl, get all the normal things, even if she was doing it thousands of miles away from me.
Hell, I would have followed her. She’s got something on me, always has. All these years away and I still feel tethered to her, like what kept my blood pumping all this time was that she was out there, existing somewhere in the world. And the closer I get to her now, the more alive I feel. Like I’m just waking up.
Feels dangerous, somehow.
And I know why her words keep echoing around inside my head as I
“Hiding.”
The idea was crazy to me. Have you ever seen someone’s face when they’re hitting the bag so hard you know they’re going to throw up when the round is over? I’d seen her like that.
“You kidding?” I said, sitting down on the edge of her bed. My weight moved the lump under the blankets, she was so little. “Why?”
“I look like something that lives under a bridge.”
I laughed. “No, you don’t.”
“Well, I feel like something that lives under a bridge.”
I grabbed hold of the blanket with my left hand and gave it a little tug, felt the give on it, and pulled it down over her head. Down to her waist.
Man, she was wearing nothing but a tank top that I could see, all ruffled up under the covers, leaning back against those pillows with her hair all messed up.
Jesus Christ.
Even with her tired eyes and pale skin, for a second—just a second—she looked like what I suddenly knew she’d look like after sex. Do I even need to say what that did to me? It would have brought me to my knees if I wasn’t already sitting down, and it was nothing compared to the real thing.
But that was later. That was after everything changed. That was the best night of my life, the night Harlow and I first made love.
But before then, in her room, just seeing her all mussed up in a tank top, no bra? I don’t know if she knew what was going through my mind. She thought she looked terrible, I thought she was gorgeous. But she let me look. She let me look, and she looked so damn happy to see me. We were both just quiet for a moment while I stared at her.
Then she smiled a little and said, “Lie to me.”
“You look like something that lives under a bridge,” I said.
Harlow opened her eyes wide, her mouth open, trying not to smile too much, and threw one of those pillows at me.
“You said lie!” I laughed at her.
“So we’re lying to each other now?”
I shrugged. “Special circumstances, when you need lying to, sure.”
Harlow narrowed her eyes and gave me one of those wicked grins. “Ok. You’re going to lose your fight,” she said.
If she’d jabbed me then, I swear to God she could have knocked me over. Then I started to laugh my ass off.
Harlow had seen how hard I’d been training for that fight with Manny Dolan, and because of that she was maybe the only one who knew how important it was to me, even if I hadn’t said it outright. I always liked that, that she let it alone unless I wanted to bring it up. But I knew she knew how important it was, that it was live or die to me, and she took this thing I was worried about and made it harmless. Made it funny.
She was fucking amazing.
I threw the pillow back and said, “Pops says it’s fine now, and you should come by the gym. Says girls can fight.”
“Yeah? My parents hate you.”
“I didn’t want to tell you this, Lo, but you’re gonna fail the SATs,” I said.
Harlow laughed until she started to cough, but that one actually made me think. Because the truth was that Harlow was going to ace that test, and she was going to go to any college she wanted to. I was the one who was going to stick around, maybe get a job with my godfather. And I hadn’t thought much about that. How, in less than two years, she’d be gone.
It didn’t feel so good, I’ll be honest. But knowing what I know now? I wish to God I could have traded the future she got for one where she got to take that test like a normal girl, go to college like a normal girl, get all the normal things, even if she was doing it thousands of miles away from me.
Hell, I would have followed her. She’s got something on me, always has. All these years away and I still feel tethered to her, like what kept my blood pumping all this time was that she was out there, existing somewhere in the world. And the closer I get to her now, the more alive I feel. Like I’m just waking up.
Feels dangerous, somehow.
And I know why her words keep echoing around inside my head as I
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