Page 23 of House of Bass

Part of her understood where he was coming from, she did, but yet the anger that bubbled at his request consumed her.

Perhaps it came from the memory of being left alone at home at varying ages to fend for herself. She was six the first time she had been home all day with no food made to eat. Her mum had been out, presumably working.

By the time the sun had set she was getting restless, it hadn't been her first time home alone. She knew not to leave the house and knew not to open the door for anyone; Mama had a key.

Harley was a tall kid, even at that age. Still, she had to take a small chair and stand on it as she figured out how to make something to eat. They had bread and they had butter. The simplest food to someone else, for her, was a lifesaver. She had learnt to cook pretty early on because of days like those.

Sometimes she felt stuck in that small helpless body where she starved or had little food to eat. Harley glared at the man in front of her who brought those feelings rushing back.

“What about me?”

He raised a nonchalant eyebrow at her, arrogance seeping through his pores, so she continued.

“For the last ten minutes, you’ve droned on about the difficulties Annabel faces. How hard life is for the rich delicate princess and all the pain she so terribly endures. Then you had the gall to ask me to look after her. The question of the afternoon is: who makes sure I’m okay?” Harley asked as she started to pack her things, her voice hard and level. It took everything in her not to shout. “The answer is nobody. No one ever has, it's always just been me. I look after myself.”

She stood up, ready to leave, “I packed up my whole life to be here, I left my mum behind to be here. We all have it hard, so no I won’t do what you asked. Go fuck yourself.”

Then she walked away without hearing anything else he had to say, her anger barely subsiding with every step that she decided to skip her final class of the day. She would chastise herself over this when the rage no longer blinded her.

Rain had started drizzling, and she was annoyed her coat didn't have a hood, so her hair was going to get wet on the walk home. She might have to take the bus after all. The whole day was proving to be a shit show.

Her route out of the university meant passing the canteen she had previously refused to enter, and that was her second mistake of the day. She spotted Annabel immediately, her halo of golden hair cascading down her back as she spoke to one of her friends, in a cream jacket and matching skirt. Her mouth was smiling but her eyes reflected a different truth. Nervous, perhaps. It shocked Harley how easily she could read her. Was this something that happened with siblings?

In the midst of her staring, the third mistake, Annabel looked up and caught her eye which led to Harley scurrying away as quickly as her two feet could carry her.

She could hear the clicking of heels behind her, but that didn’t slow her stride. Annabel’s voice kept calling out to her but she ignored it and carried on walking like she couldn’t hear her.

“Can you just stop?” Annabel shrieked and it finally got Harley to slow down. Despite how every fibre of her being told nothing good could come from this conversation.

10

ST. ANNABEL

My day began sullen, not just because Harley left home without a word, but because it is nearing ten a.m and I have no caffeine in my system so I alternated with my only other source of beverage, canned wine. I had been running late, assuming Harley was upstairs and waited in the living room, only to realise too late that she wasn’t there in the first place. Usually, I get coffee on my way in from a different place because I never go into Coffea’d (I’m not allowed in there) due to the unfriendly service, so I steer clear.

My first class is Advanced Macroeconomics and the clock is moving like it has nowhere to be, but I would love to be anywhere but here. This is historically the worst performing module at our university, and that is why they had to bring in a new person in to make sure that stops.

Every head is bent low, scribbling away or typing diligently on their laptops, listening intently at our lecturer. I rest my cheek on my hand as the man in question, David Lowe, discusses financial accelerators and macroprudential regulation but all I can think of is how his skin tone matched Harley’s. Honey brown with cool undertones. They also have similar hair types although his hair is low cut with slightly tighter curls.

I sigh then continue typing on my phone instead of taking notes.

Stassie is informing me about the show she is having at the Barbican in June next year that her agent booked her, but it isn’t public information yet. She is a famous classical musician, the piano in particular is her forte but she knows how to play over twenty instruments. Our family’s pride and joy.

As I text her back to tell her that I will make sure the others keep June free, I feel a nimble tap on my shoulder. I turn around to the sharp smile of my least favourite twin, Valentina Spinelli.

The twins aren’t difficult to tell apart, especially to someone who grew up around them like I have. They might have shared a face but Val is spiteful and unlikeable, the only person who honestly can tolerate being around her long enough is her sister.

“What?” I hiss under my breath, hoping David didn’t get a whiff that his class is being disrupted.

“I heard there’s some new scholarship kid in first year. What do you know?” she asks, her sharp black nails softly tapping against the wood of the table. This university had five to six thousand students, relatively small, so a singular addition shouldn’t stand out so much, especially considering we are still in our first lesson of the day. However, it is no surprise that with a face and presence like hers, Harley stood out.

“Why would I know anything about that?”

“Doesn’t your boyfriend own the school?” she asks, pretending it’s innocent. She clicks her tongue, then her face clears up in false realisation. “Oh wait, I forgot. He’s not yours.”

“Fuck you,” I spit.

“I kid, I kid. Seriously, is there anything you can tell me?” she asks.