Page 85 of House of Bass

“So you don’t even like anyone…” Annabel said suggestively, clearly leading somewhere in her pestering. Mischief cladded in those blue eyes. “Not even a certain aggro redhead…?”

There it was.

“Shut up, we're just friends.”

“No, I am friends with Dan. I am friends with MJ. You two are not just friends and you’re crazy if you think otherwise.”

“I can’t…we can’t….” Harley started and stopped, unable to think of a suitable defense. A reasonable denial. But nothing stuck. “We’re just friends. She doesn’t see me that way,” she softly ended.

“So you admit it? You like her?”

Harley thought about it and she thought about it hard. Did she like Scarlett? Harley had never dated before; she never had the time for it and no one ever garnered her interest long enough to do so. She thought nothing of men and found women were far more interesting to look at or speak to but again, no time and honestly no guts to go up to them to ask them out.

She always thought about Scarlett even when they were apart. She couldn’t go very long without texting her about something menial and unimportant. Whenever they weren’t together, she unconsciously counted down the hours until she’d see her again. They saw each other nearly everyday. When Annabel had left on her impromptu trip she invited her to stay with her the two days and she did.

All they did was watch films, Scarlett teaching Harley how to bake, paint and go to uni in the mornings together but she was just glad to do it because it was with her. They were attached to one another like glue and it all happened without a second thought. The way her heart pounded every time she saw her.

She knew the precise brown of her eyes; honey with a hint of gold flecks. The exact shade of her skin; a light golden olive brown. She loved how deep her dimples were when she smiled, and the way the top of her nose crinked when she did so, the exact amount of freckles on nose (thirteen). Harley even loved the rare moments when her hair was in their natural curls.

Fuck.

She repeated again, “We’re just friends.”

Annabel gave her that know-it-all smile of hers, then sing-songed, “If you say so.”

She had told her to tell her something that would take her mind off where they were headed but she ended up with something that stressed her out even more.

They didn’t speak for the rest of the ride as Harley had an internal crisis with her music taking over the car.

They arrived at their destination fifteen minutes later and she had forgotten how large the place was. The house…Harley wasn't even sure if she could call it that. The appropriate wording would be a manor but technically no.

“You live in a ridiculous sized home,” she said in awe.

“That came with ridiculous sized problems,” Annabel replied, as she slammed her car door. Harley looked at her as her attention was centred at the house in front of her, face taut and stern. The light-heartedness replaced stiff shoulders and heavy airs. They lived in the same city but she never went home.

“Hey,” Harley called out to her. Annabel stepped out of her trance, “It’s just one weekend.”

Annabel nodded rapidly, digesting that they would be in and out before they blinked. Or at least that is what Harley wanted to believe.

Squeals broke their moment of silence, the youngest Bass ran down the stairs yelling, “Annie!”

A grin broke out on Annabel’s face that rivalled her sister’s, they hugged and cooed at one another like two people who hadn't seen each other in years despite the fact that it had only been two weeks since Anastasia’s quiet birthday event. They went to Spain to celebrate with Annabel and her friends that weekend. Harley was surprised their mother even let them go, it must have taken heavy coercion.

The girl suddenly shifted her attention, finally taking in that she had also been standing there, “Hi, Harley.”

She raised a hand and returned a wave. “Hi. Sorry, I couldn’t make it to your birthday.”

Her and Annabel had still been in their stalemate. Regardless, her and Anastasia had barely spent much time together, she would have felt as though she was intruding.

“It’s okay, I get it. Anyways, Gran and Grandad aren't here, they arrive tomorrow, thankfully,” Stassie muttered the last bit quietly, “But Dad is home and so is mum. No fighting or things thrown just yet but we shouldn’t hold our breaths, it could still happen. The day isn't over.” A tense chuckle escaped her lips but no one laughed along with her. Instead, mirroring frowns appeared on both Harley and Annabel’s faces.

They walked inside and she couldn’t help but marvel at its size, somehow its interior felt twice as huge as the exterior. There was a grand open reception with its high ceilings that were big enough to fit a small house, they walked past a grand oak staircase then into a narrow hallway with blue carpeting and past many empty rooms. So much of the place was wood furnished but every room they walked past was colour coded in some form, styled with a mix of modernity while keeping an old rustic charm.

It took everything in her to keep her jaw upright but at the same time, it made her feel like a speck and grossly unimportant. The latter was definitely true as her existence barely meant much to the owner of the house.

They had stopped in front of a room, Annabel looked to her, “Don’t show any signs of weakness. He spots and exploits. Okay?” Harley nodded and she opened the large oak doors to reveal an average sized living room.

Sitting inside was William and Eleanor Bass on opposite ends of the room, both holding newspapers but nary actually reading it. Their attention had shifted from it to their entrance, neither got up.