AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s just hot water.”
“Hot water? No tea or anything?”
He grinned. “Is that weird?”
“Very.” Underneath the table, I found his leg, nudging it with my boot. “But I like it.”
Harry leaned back in his seat then, meeting my gaze with an intensity that made my heart stutter a beat. His full attention on me was a little daunting. “So, back to our random line of questioning. What’s your favorite color?”
I thought about it. “Yellow, I think. Yours?”
“Definitely blue. What’s your best friend’s name?”
“Margot,” I said, smiling a little. “I love her name.”
“Stella’s prettier,” he pointed out, intrigued. “How did you two meet?”
“Well, we’ve gone to school together since our freshman year, but we didn’t really talk until the start of junior year. Our parents are both a part of this fundraising committee, so we met at an event.”
“An event?” Now one of his eyebrows peaked. “Like with fancy ties and everything?”
I faltered then, catching my slip-up too late. That was a Destelle fact, not a Stella one. Crap. I’d never really had this problem before—no one really cared enough to dive into the personal life of Stella too deeply. I’d have to be more careful.
But then again, what did it hurt to merge those lives a bit? I didn’t want to lie to Harry about anything.
“And dresses that make it hard to breathe,” I finally said with a shake of my head, remembering the last dress Mom made me wear. “Though Margot always wears her suits—that’s really all she ever wears. Someone always has an excuse to throw one once a month, and then there’s usually a country club dinner thrown in there too. Rich people love getting together and talking about money, did you know?”
His lips twitched, as if he were fighting a smile. “No, I was unaware. Makes sense, though. But even though it’s probably more of a gossip fest than anything, that’s cool that they’re raising money for good causes.”
I hadn’t thought about it that way before. Each fundraiser that the next person hosted raised a lot of money for local charities or schools. It was easy to look at all the bad things, easy to miss what good could come from it.
“What’syourbest friend’s name?” I challenged him, picking up my cup. “Not Vincent.”
“I used to have a best friend named Terry.”
“TerryandHarry?” I raised an eyebrow, nearly snorting. “Did you ever get teased at school for that?”
Harry shook his head. “We didn’t go to the same school—he would’ve been a few grades older, anyway.”
I waited for him to go on, but he only sipped at his water, eyeing me like he waited for me to speak. “You mentioned your parents passed away when you were young,” I said. “Who did you live with when you were younger?”
“A few relatives,” he said, running his finger over the rim of his cup. His voice was low but nonchalant. “At first, with my grandma for a little while. Aunt for a few weeks. Ultimately, though, I got placed with a second cousin, and I lived with him until I didn’t have to anymore.”
“Oh, wow.” I tried so hard to hide my surprise, but couldn’t. “Bounced around a lot, huh?”
“Just for the first year. My grandma on my mom’s side got custody of me first, but the social workers found out thatIreally took care ofher.” He shrugged. “My aunt on my dad’s side got me until they could sort out where to send me next. Jeff volunteered to take me then—he already had two kids, so he didn’t mind adding one more.” A smile twisted his lips. “Until his wife became pregnant, twice over, then he stressed a little.”
As Harry talked, I conjured an image of a little boy, auburn hair and freckles, packing his things up, setting up his bedroom over and over again. After having lost his parents, too. Passed around like a piece of furniture, quickly discarded from one house and onto the next.
“That was heavy,” he realized almost worriedly as I stayed quiet. His fingers reached up and brushed along his throat. “I-I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to tell anyone about all that. Probably not great second-date material, huh?”
“No, it’s okay,” I assured him honestly. “I like getting to know more about you.” To prove that fact, I asked, “So, your cousin’s kids—were you close in age with the first two?”
“Not really. I was seven, and the oldest of theirs was three. I was more like the extra set of hands around the house, walked to the store to get groceries, that kind of thing. I got a taste of independence early.”
“So, did you move out when you turned eighteen?”
“Uh, not right away. A few months after. When my parents passed, I got the house, and I had a few things to, uh, fix before I could move.” I could understand that. I wasn’t sure if the house had been empty all that time, but before I had a chance to ask, Harry went on. “So, you ever want to get up onstage and sing a song?” he asked, turning in the booth slightly to look toward the next girl who’d taken over the microphone.
