Harp's Song Part 3

After we exchange greetings, I sit in my seat and re-read my paper for the hundredth time. I'm sure most of the kids had a hard time picking one favorite memory to write about because they have a lot of good memories to chose from. But I didn't. I was always happy playing music, and had nice memories of amazing performances, but that wasn't the same.

My happiest, most favorite memory was the vacation I went on with Connor's family last summer. I'd enjoyed all of it, the drive there and back, and the three weeks we spent there. Especially our time at the beach lying out in the sand, swimming in the ocean and watching Connor and Patrick toss a football. Well, I mainly watched Connor toss the football, secretly fascinated with the way his stomach muscles stretched when he brought his arm above his head aiming his toss. Like I said, I'm not blind or dead. I understand why girls throw themselves at him, and I'm so thankful he's my best friend.

Before we started the trip, I was filled with anxiety that my mom was going to change her mind, so it wasn't until we were actually packed in the van, and on the highway that I started to relax. I'd never been outside of Iowa before, and as crazy as it sounds, I was looking forward to the almost seventeen hour drive. Connor hated it and now that he was old enough to drive, his mom made him take s.h.i.+fts with her so she didn't have to do it all.

Our plan was to stop about halfway for dinner and stay the night in a hotel. It all seemed surreal to me and so ... normal. Patrick and I played games for a long time, but after a while he fell asleep. Connor had just gotten done with his s.h.i.+ft driving and was taking a nap too, so it was just Catherine and I awake. I put my headphones in and listened to my favorite cla.s.sical pieces while I watched the other cars on the freeway. Sometimes, we would be next to cars with families, other times it was just truckers, or one or two people to a car. I found myself making up stories for all of them before wondering what their real story was.

I specifically remember one family driving alongside us-and like our car-most of the people inside were asleep, except for the driver and all but one of the kids. She was in the back of the station wagon probably only four or five years old. Her face was dirty and I could tell the family wasn't very well off because the car was on the clunky side, but the little girl looked so happy. She was playing with a doll and I could see her lips moving like she was talking to it. As we started to pull away from them, she looked up and saw me. I'll never forget the huge grin that spread across her face as she caught me staring at her before she waved.

I don't know why that memory stuck with me, but I felt really at peace and happy for that little girl. I think it gave me some sort of hope that real happiness did exist and could exist for anyone. That had me thinking about what my story could be.

From an outsider's perspective, it looked like we were a happy family-mom, sons and daughter on our way to vacation. That made me sad because it couldn't have been farther from the truth. I was escaping my real life and had never been happier. How messed up was that? I promised myself not to think about my mom the whole trip, but instead to have fun and live the outsider's story. Pretend to be part of the Williams' family.

"You are not reading your paper again, are you? I'm sure it's fine. You are such a perfectionist."

I shake my head at Connor and smack his arm. Feigning injury, he rubs the spot where I hit him and frowns.

"Good morning everyone. Please pa.s.s your papers to the front of the cla.s.s and then we'll begin our lesson for the day," Ms. Anderson addresses the cla.s.s.

Grumbling can be heard throughout the room as people hand their papers to the person in front of them and so on until all the papers reach the person in the front of each row. Ms. Anderson collects them all and starts her lesson for the day. Once cla.s.s is over, I get up and ask Connor what he and Ethan had been talking about.

"Nothing-gotta run, I forgot my history book in my locker so I'll catch you at lunch."

I watch Connor file out of the cla.s.sroom and frown-something is up. He is definitely avoiding me. I wonder what else he and Ethan talked about, and when is he going to tell me.

I make it through second hour with the world's most boring teacher, and I'm on my way to orchestra when I look up and see Vincent in the hallway coming toward me. c.r.a.p. I was really hoping to avoid him as much as possible. I put my head down hoping he hasn't noticed me yet, and keep walking down the hall.

"Hi Harp."

I glance up to find a sneering Vincent in my face. He laughs and tugs on a strand of my hair before continuing on his way to his next cla.s.s.

Exhaling, I shake my head and think that it could have been a lot worse, but I am definitely going to find another way to get to orchestra, even if it does take me longer. Settling into my favorite cla.s.s, I greet a few of the other students and am warming up when Mr. Holcomb comes in.

We do our scales before he has us play the piece we've been working on for our district compet.i.tion. I am excited about it because I love it, but also because I have a solo. I love the phrasing of it, and how it fits within the whole composition. Once we've run through it and Mr. Holcomb is happy, he pa.s.ses out new music that we work on until the bell rings. Since I have lunch next, I take my time putting my cello and music away.

"Harp, great job today," Mr. Holcomb says without looking up.

"Thanks Mr. H, I really like the piece a lot."

"How's your solo going?"

"It's coming along. I've got the music memorized so now I'm working on phrasing and interpretation. Should be ready by the compet.i.tion."

"Good, well, if you want to schedule any practice time after school, I'd be happy to listen and give you any thoughts I have that could help."

"Yeah, thanks Mr. H, that'd be great. Maybe next week?"

"Sounds good, just sign up on the sheet taped to my office window and I'll be there," he says gathering his things and turning to go into his office.

Mr. Holcomb is my next favorite teacher after Ms. Anderson. He is also on the younger side, in his thirties, tall with brown hair and warm brown eyes. His primary instrument is the violin, but he can play just about anything, even some of the band instruments. He also teaches the music theory cla.s.s I'm in. He is completely devoted to the music program and his wife even helps out a lot when we have performances off school property. Because they love what they do, they make our orchestra feel like one big family. I think that's a big part of why we are the best in our district and arguably, the state.

As I approach the cafeteria, I see Connor and Ethan standing in the hall, which is unusual. Typically, I just meet Connor so I'm wondering why Ethan is with him and why they both look a little tense.

"Hey guys what's going on?"

"Hey Harp," Ethan replies, "Not much, what took you so long, huh? We're starving."

Ethan wraps his arm around my shoulder and ushers me through the doors toward our table. Connor follows behind us but not before I catch a puzzled look on his face. I keep my head down when we go through the cafeteria. I hate people looking at me and now with Ethan's arm around me I feel the stares of unwanted attention right before I hear Vincent's voice.

"Oh, I get it," he scoffs, "You guys share her. How can I get it on this action, huh?"

My mouth flies open at the same time my head snaps up. Did he really just say that about me, Ethan and Connor?

Gross. What a disgusting pig ... again.

Ethan pulls his arm from around my shoulder and moves it in front of me wrapping it around my chest to push me behind him. Connor steps up next to him, where I had been.

"You want a repeat of Friday night Vinny? If memory serves me correctly, I knocked you out the last time you spoke to us, so I suggest you back off."

c.r.a.p. I've never heard Connor speak with such contempt in his voice, and I can't help but think this is all because of me.

"Listen man, we don't want any trouble. Just back off. We'll stay out of your way and we can all go about our business, ok?" Ethan says, always the voice of reason.

By now, we've drawn a crowd hoping to see the guys fight. Rumors of the fight between Connor and Vincent had already swarmed the school. I'd heard a few of the girls in second period talking about it. I ignored them, but it made me chuckle at how distorted things get in high school.

It's like that game of telephone I used to play in grade school-the teacher would tell a word to the person on her right, and by the time it went all the way around the circle and got to the person on her left, it would be a completely different word. That's how this was. I heard the girls say that Connor and Ethan beat up Justin and his cousin, and that they also put a hole in Ethan's wall, and that's when the police came ... I mean it was just absurd.

"I'll accept that after I even out the score with Ken doll here," smirks Vincent pus.h.i.+ng his finger into Connor's chest.

The tension between Connor and Vincent is obvious and I am scared he will lose it again, but instead, Connor sighs, "You know what? We were both out of line on Friday. I shouldn't have hit you and I'm sorry. I'd like to put it behind us and move forward like Ethan said. Let's just steer clear and finish out the year, ok?"

I am proud of Connor for being the bigger man, and I take that opportunity to wedge myself between him and Ethan to look at Vincent. When I saw him in the hall earlier, I'd only glanced at him, but now that I am standing right in front of him, I notice how grotesque he looks with not one, but two black eyes and a split lip. Connor really went to town on him.

"Oh, well, look who decided to make an appearance."

"Um, yeah ...," I stumble looking down before closing my eyes and gathering my strength to look back up at Vincent, "Yeah, I'm sorry about Friday too. I'm sorry you thought we lied to you. We didn't mean anything by it and we really do want to put this behind us. Connor's my best friend and he was just doing what he thought was right. I know he didn't mean to hurt you and I know he's sorry. We both are."

"Oh my G.o.d, you're not even banging her. No wonder your panties were in a bunch. She's got you blue balled," he says laughing and I notice that fleck of superiority in his eyes again.

By now the crowd watching has doubled. I am sure a teacher will be over any minute and I really don't want to get in trouble. I've never been to the princ.i.p.al's office and with only a few months until graduation, I want to keep it that way.

"Here's the deal," Vincent says, "Rematch between her and me at JJ's on Friday night at eight. She wins-I'll call it even. Got it?"

I suddenly feel all eyes on me. It takes a few minutes for me to process what Vincent has said. He wants a rematch of the pool game but between him and me-only. If I win, then he'll leave us all alone. Is he really serious right now? What happens if I lose? I scan the faces of the people around us finally landing on my friends. Both Ethan and Connor look skeptical, but a touch of hopefulness crosses their faces. When I see Justin's face, I see a sincere apology in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, I step forward and extend my right hand.

"Ahhh, brains and beauty, I see why you guys like her so much. Deal?" he says looking at me with a wicked grin on his face.

"Deal," I somehow squeak out.

Connor steps up next to me, "If she wins, you leave all of us alone-you won't even look in our direction, got it."

"A deal's a deal man, yeah, I got it," He sneers. "But if I win, I want a hundred bucks."

"Fine." Connor spits out.

Finally Coach Reed shows up and breaks the circle but not before looking between the four of us. I tug on Connor's arm as we all go to our table where Emma, Katie, and some of the other baseball players are sitting.

"What was that about?" asks Emma.

"Vincent wants a rematch of our pool game from your house, but just between him and me. Friday night at JJ's at eight o'clock. He says he'll leave us all alone if I win. So I agreed," I tell her.

"Are you serious, Harp?"

"Yeah, unfortunately, I am."

"I don't know about this, I think it's dangerous. I don't like him and I don't like the way he was looking at you, and hara.s.sing you Friday night," she pauses before continuing. "I don't know how Justin can stand to be near him; they are so different."

"I agree, but I just want him to leave us alone, so I'm going and I'll win."

"What did Connor and Ethan say? What happens if you lose?"

"Not much. Connor just made sure that Vincent knew if I won that we were done and he wouldn't cause any more trouble for us," I tell her. "If he wins then I owe him a hundred dollars. After that Coach Reed broke us up and we came over here."

"Well, I'm going with you Friday. I don't want you there by yourself. The guys have a game in Smithville so they won't be back until after seven," she says.

c.r.a.p. I forgot about the away game Friday. I really don't want to go there without them. Double c.r.a.p.

"It will be fine, Harp," Emma says obviously seeing the panic on my face, "I'll pick you up at seven-thirty and the guys can just meet us there."

I don't get to talk to Connor about the rematch during the rest of lunch. I am so anxious for school and baseball practice to be over so we can talk about what happened. Emma and I walk to fourth period and I somehow make it through fifth period, before ending my day with music theory and choir.

When the bell rings signaling the end of the day, I exit the choir doors and I head to practice my cello. A few hours later, a knock at the door to my practice room makes me jump in my seat.

"Jeez, Connor you scared the c.r.a.p out of me," I say opening the door.

"When you weren't at the truck I figured you'd lost track of time, so I came to get you."

"Thanks, and yeah, I guess I did lose track of time. I'm just not happy with this section and I can't seem to get it to where I want it."

"Harp, I'm sure it's beyond good. Sometimes I think you're too hard on yourself. No one is perfect, ya know?"

"Says the sports stud who spends countless hours conditioning. You know, I think that's what they call the pot calling the kettle black."

"Come on, kettle, let's get you packed so I can get home-I'm starving."

When we get in the truck I turn to him, "So, are we gonna talk about what happened with Vincent today, and why you and Ethan were so secretive this morning?"

I see his jaw clench and hand tighten on the steering wheel before he speaks.

"I don't like that guy, Harp. There's something off about him, more than just the fact that he's an a.s.shole."

"I agree, he's got a crazy look in his eyes-I can't believe he and Justin are really related. Justin's so nice."

"That's what Ethan and I were talking about this morning at my locker. Apparently, Vincent has been in and out of trouble his whole life. He even spent some time in juvie last year and his parents couldn't take it anymore, so they moved him here. They thought maybe being around Justin would be a good influence or something."

I can actually see that about Vincent. It didn't seem like he was a stranger to trouble.

"Emma's taking me to JJ's on Friday night since you'll be at the away game."

"I wish we didn't have that game, but yeah, we'll be there as soon as we can be."

Sighing, he reaches for my hand giving it a slight squeeze. "Harp, please be careful on Friday. I know you're going to win, but I care about you a lot and I don't want to see anything happen to you."

"I promise I'll be careful. But get there as soon as you can. Text me when you guys leave school."

"You got it."

"Now," he says seriously before looking at me, "are we gonna talk about how hot Ms. Anderson looked today?"

I roll my eyes at him shaking my head and laughing. I can always count on Connor to lighten the mood.

By the time Friday gets here I am a bundle of nerves and can barely hold it together.

Emma dropped me off at home after school promising to pick me up at seven-thirty. I am just getting out of the shower when I hear the front door slam shut. It's only six-thirty-I thought for sure I could get out of here before she got home.

Guess I was wrong.

I wrap a towel around me and brush my hair before I reach for the bathroom door. When I open the door, I am met with dark brown eyes glaring at me furiously. Despite the anger, I can clearly see in her face-she is really beautiful, in an exotic way.

One time when she wasn't home, I went through a box in her closet that held pictures of her from when she was my age and saw how gorgeous she was. What struck me most was how full of life she was in those pictures. She had a quiet confidence and a big, graceful smile that touched her eyes. I always wondered where that girl had gone? But when you have a kid at eighteen, I guess life is pretty tough.

I take a deep breath and look into her eyes.

"You little brat!" she yells taking a step into the bathroom.

"What did ... "

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out about this?" she yells holding up an envelope and waving it in front of my face. She is moving it too fast for me to be able to see what it is.

I am slowly backing away from her now and can't help but feel trapped knowing I am only headed straight for the bathtub.

"You think you're better than me, Huh?" She says calmly with a touch of crazy in her eyes as she continues moving toward me in the bathroom. "Answer me!"

"N-no," I stutter while using my right hand to brace myself against the wall. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about your little dreams of going to college. G.o.d, you can be so dense. I don't know how you even got in. They must feel sorry for you or need to fill a quota for charity cases."

I scrunch my eyebrows together now figuring it all out. I never told her when I applied to colleges, or when I got my acceptance to Oberlin. I didn't know when I was going to tell her, but I thought the longer I waited the better. I didn't know how she would react-I guess now I knew.