1994
Just when I started to feel like I was figuring life out, it decided to kick my ass. I’d spent so long trying to convince myself of my own lies that by the time I finally accepted that the feelings I had for my best friend were less than platonic, I’d missed my chance.
The “right time” to come clean to Harlow had come and gone while I was busy drowning in indecision. My resolution to tell her that I was pretty sure I might love her hadn’t come easy. The prospect of scaring her away and destroying our friendship terrified me almost as much as the thought of her never knowing how I felt about her.
Even at fourteen years old I was convinced that’s what it was—love. Misread words and misheard names all manifested as Harlow; she was everywhere I looked, always. The stirring feeling I’d get in the pit of my stomach, and other places, wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Whenever we were together, the rush of blood that would make my head swim if she grabbed my hand, or laughed at something I’d said—all of it was my drug, and I needed to feed my addiction.
I was caught between a rock and a hard place. It wasn’t that I necessarily wanted to be more than friends right there and then. I wasn’t stupid, I knew we were young, probably too young to fall in love. I just wanted her to know that I didn’t see anyone other than her. It was only ever her.
The twins didn’t exactly help. I’d been friends with Harlow all of one week before we had “the talk”—and by talk, I mean the boys pinned me down and explained in graphic detail what they’d do to me if I made a move on their little sister. It was easier to ignore once they moved away to college, but the threat still lingered in the back of my mind, even if I was half convinced that it was empty. Probably just one of those things big brothers did out of some weird primal protective instinct.
Even so, I valued my kneecaps ever since Harlow had tried shooting one out. I kept a close but subtle distance, biding my time. It didn’t occur to me that my time would eventually elapse. I hadn’t even noticed I wasn’t the only runner in the race.
I’d walked to the Stevens’ house on an ordinary Saturday evening, just like I always did. But this time was going to be different: I’d psyched myself up, ready to profess my feelings, and eager to put myself out of my own misery and take a chance. The weight of lugging around my secret crush was already lifting, and although I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking, I wasn’t nearly as nervous as I thought I would be when I knocked on her door.
The sinking feeling I got when her mom said Harlow was out on a date still gives me a chill. I stood on the doorstep, frozen in a state of disbelief and absolute agony. How had I missed the signs that she was ready to date? I chastised myself, wondering why she was out with someone other than me. Mrs. Stevens said she’d gone to the movies, and I must have done a pretty shitty job of hiding the pain splintering across my chest because she patted me on the shoulder and gave me a look so full of pity I couldn’t stand to meet her eyes for a second longer. I turned and ran.
I made it to the pier before I let myself stop to take a ragged breath. The burning in my lungs was a welcomed distraction, if fleeting. Dusk in the harbor was my favorite time. When it was clear you could see the exact moment day turned to night, and watch the show of the stars beginning to make their appearance. It was a sight that never failed to awe me.
As I stood, hands on knees trying to catch my breath and willing the pounding in my chest to stop, jealousy began to unfurl itself, washing over me in a flood of anxiety and bitterness. Who was she with? Did she like him? Would he try to kiss her? Would she let him? I was irrationally mad at her, and even more so at myself. How could I have been so blinkered?
I listened for a while to the tide lapping against the docks and the boats creaking, their ropes straining as water pushed and pulled them from their moors. It wasn’t a loud enough distraction, and trying to focus on anything other than Harlow felt impossible.
The Cape was a beautiful neighborhood. When we first moved, I’d been sure that I’d never feel at home. I was desperate to go back to Montana. Harlow soon changed that. I was from Big Sky; I spent my spare time in one of two places, snowboarding on the slopes of Little Couloir, or at Logan’s grandpa’s farm.
A small waterside tourist town held no appeal for me—I couldn’t sail or surf and had little desire to do either. Everyone in town knew each other’s business, and I wasn’t sure I liked the thought of strangers knowing anything about me. It always grated on me when I went into a store with my dad, and he would look at the clerk’s name badge, and then address them like he’d known them for years. It was a phony interaction. I liked to stick to sir and ma’am; if we progressed to using names it was because we’d made an effort to talk and become friends. If people in this town were going to talk about me, they’d better get to know me first.
After a rocky start, Harlow made it a one-girl crusade to win me over to her hometown, and she managed it in next to no time. I was dragged around day after day, getting introduced to every single store owner in town, with Harlow expertly presenting each of us with a small but thoughtful piece of trivia.
“Mrs. Adkins, this is Ellis Hughes. Ellis, Mrs. Adkins has run the general store here since my daddy was a boy, and there isn’t a single thing she can’t source if you bribe her with some of my Mom’s pie. Mrs. Adkins, Ellis just moved into the Andersons’ property. His daddy’s a Red Sox fan, just like Mr. Adkins.”
Within the space of a month, I was on first-name basis with almost everyone in town.
The wind carried the sound of a couple chatting animatedly as they strolled along the waterfront, hand-in-hand. They looked over, and the woman smiled. I could feel the heat rush to my cheeks in embarrassment. It wasn’t like they could possibly know what was running through my mind, or that I was pretty close to tears. I stood taller and pushed the hair out of my eyes, trying to pull myself together.
I started walking in the opposite direction of the couple, stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my hoodie. I wondered if Harlow and her “date” would be in the old picture house already, or if they had gone to eat first. If it were me, I’d have taken her out to dinner first. At least then we’d have been able to talk to one another. Taking a chick to the movies pretty much guarantees that you don’t need to do much talking.
The more I thought about what might happen when the lights went down, the faster my pulse raced, and my stomach hurt. Would her date try and put his arm around her? What if they went to sit in the back row? I screwed my eyes up tight and shook away my last thought. Harlow wouldn’t make out with someone on a first date. I’d bet my life I would have known what she wanted to go and see if she were at the movies with me. The theater only had three screens. Before I’d even processed what I was about to do or say, I was running again—this time in the direction of the picture house.
She was mine, and I needed to make sure that she knew it.
“One ticket for The Crow please, Mr. Ryan.”
The second I noticed the billboard, I was pretty damn confident she’d pushed to watch this one.
“Sorry, Ellis, this one’s rated R. Unless you have the Stevens boys with you, I can’t let you in on your own.”
My heart sank; I couldn’t get in because everyone in the damn town knew me. I paused for a second wondering if I should just wait out in the foyer for her, or buy a ticket for a different movie and try to sneak in.
“Has Harlow already gone in?” I asked testing my luck.
“Oh, yeah. As a matter of fact, she has, with Kate and Jim Sanderson’s two boys.”
I needed to keep my anger in check. She was here with Cory Sanderson, which in itself made me want to crush him into dust, but they’d obviously come with his older brother Troy, a complete douchebag. He was Jared and Jake’s age, but unlike the twins, he wasn’t a nice person. Sure, he was a stand-up guy in front of anyone who mattered, but I’d heard plenty in the boys’ locker rooms at hockey about what he got up to in his spare time. The fact that he was inside with Harlow, even if he was just playing chaperone, made me want to tear at my own skin.
“I’m late. They were supposed to wait for me, but I guess they figured I wasn’t coming and decided to go ahead without me. Can you let me in to go meet up with them?”
Mr. Ryan looked skeptical, but he pushed my ticket under the glass and took my money. If it weren’t for the booth, I’d have hugged him.
“Thanks, sir.”
I made my way through to screen two, trying not to make a sound as I slipped into an empty seat at the back and began searching for Harlow in the darkness. It wasn’t hard; it was pretty empty, there were only about thirty people in the place. They’d chosen seats slap bang in the middle of the theater, and I could just make out Cory sitting on her right side, and then Troy, by himself, all the way at the end of the row.
I hadn’t given a thought about what I would do if I actually found them, and once I was sitting in the back of a darkened theater watching them, the pounding in my chest intensified. Hearing she was out on a date hurt. Seeing her on a date was paralyzing. I watched in morbid captivation as he leaned in closer to her; I bit down on my cheek until I tasted blood when he whispered something and she threw her head back, laughing. When his arm stretched out boldly and hung across the back of her seat, I was on my feet and marching in their direction.
“Hey! I thought it was you guys. Mind if I sit here?” I dropped down beside Cory, not waiting for confirmation. “Oh, hey Harlow,” I leaned over and smiled before sitting back. She looked like she’d just seen a ghost. Good. She didn’t say hi in response. Instead, she stuffed her mouth full of popcorn and sunk lower into her seat.
I figured I could play this two ways: one, focus on Harlow and try my best to convince her to ditch Cory and come home with me. Or, two, ignore her, so Cory didn’t feel threatened and try to up his game, then steal his attention until she was pissed at him for ignoring her.
I decided to go with option two.
“Dude, this is the film Brandon Lee died filming, right?” I said trying to keep my voice low enough for only Cory to hear.
“Yeah, he was shot for real.”
“How messed up is that? I bet it took ages for everyone on set to realize he wasn’t acting.”
Cory’s arm dropped from the back of Harlow’s chair as he angled himself toward me. It was the first time since I’d walked in on them that my pulse wasn’t drumming wildly in my ears. I’d shifted his focus, and now I had to hold it long enough for Harlow to get pissed with him.
He started giving me a rendition of his conspiracy theories on Lee’s death. I was starting to feel confident that maybe I could pull this off. Sitting back in my seat, I half listened to Cory. The guy was a dumb ass; he was sitting next to the most amazing girl I’d ever met, ignoring her to talk to me.
He didn’t deserve to date her.
“What’s your deal, Ellis? What the hell was all that about?”
I watched as Troy’s car pulled away from the curb, Cory hanging out the window shouting that he’d see me at hockey practice. I’m not even sure he said goodbye to Harlow.
“What?” I looked back at her and shrugged. The flimsy yellow sundress she wore was billowing around her legs in the breeze. I let my eyes fall from the dress to the beat-up pair of sneakers she mainly lived in, then back up to meet her stare.
It was hard to breathe.
Her hair was braided loosely over one shoulder, and I hadn’t missed the way her hands were fisted like she was about to slug me. I didn’t care. I took a step toward her instead of back.
“You just hijacked my date,” she fumed. “Why were you even there?”
“It was a date?”
She didn’t buy my innocent doe-eyed act. I’d never seen her look so angry with me—her face was almost purple.
“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you!”
“Why were you out on a date with Cory Sanderson, Harlow?” I didn’t like the way the sentence fell from my lips. Even I could hear the hurt in my voice.
Her head dropped, and her fists loosened.
“He asked me if I wanted to go to the movies to watch The Crow. You know I’ve been dying to see it. I said yes.”
It was my turn to drop my eyes. I kicked at the pavement with the toe of my shoe, watching scuff marks appear. “I’d have taken you.”
She took a step away from me, creating more distance. I hated it.
“I didn’t like seeing you with him,” I admitted; still not brave enough to look up. I could handle her being angry with me, but I wasn’t sure I could stomach any more rejection tonight—my emotions were already frayed.
“Jeez, you sound like the twins. I don’t need another brother, Ellis! It was my first date, and you showed up and took over. I don’t think Cory realized I was even in the car when he dropped us off.”
She sounded genuinely upset, and my stomach rolled. “I’m not trying to be your brother, Harlow. Trust me, that’s the last thing I ever want to make you think.”
“Well, then you need to stop acting that way. You embarrassed me tonight. How do you think it felt being ignored, huh? It was the first time anyone’s ever asked me out. You’re supposed to always remember your first date, and you just ruined it!”
“You shouldn’t have even been out with him!” I seethed, the frustration of the night finally taking its toll.
“WHY!”
I snapped my head up, and it collided with the glare she was willing me dead with. I swallowed hard. “Because.”
“Because what?” she threw back.
“Because it should have been with me.”
The front door creaked open, and Mr. Stevens stepped out onto the porch.
“What’s all the commotion?” he asked, eyeing us both wearily.
Harlow looked between us then shouted back to her dad.
“It’s nothing… I’m coming in.”
My heart sank to the floor. Nothing? She called my admission nothing. I didn’t give her a chance to stick the knife in any further. I turned and made my way to my house as quickly as I could. My feelings for her weren’t nothing; they were most definitely something, if only to me.
I made it to my lawn before I felt her grab my arm, pulling me back. “Wait.”
I shook myself from her grasp and turned around to face her. Her arms were crossed over her chest protectively; she didn’t look angry with me anymore, just confused.
“You don’t like me, Ellis,” she whispered lightly.
Suddenly I was the one confused. I couldn’t fathom how she’d ever think that. “Are you mad? Of course, I like you.” God, I wish she only realized how much.
“No, I mean like, like. Why would you want to take me on a date? I’m Jared and Jake’s little sister. I’m just me.”
My palms were sticky; I wiped them across the leg of my jeans and took a deep breath, moving closer. My head and heart had waged war on each other, and my heart finally won out. The gleam of the porch light lit her from behind; she looked as though she were glowing.
“That’s precisely the reason, Harlow—because, you’re you.” I closed the remaining few inches and kissed my best friend. Not on the forehead or the cheek like I’d done probably a million and one times before—but on her lips. I’d imagined kissing them for almost as long as I’d known her, and it’s fair to say that I obviously had a poor imagination. The fantasies I had about her while I lay alone in my room didn’t even come close to the real thing. There wasn’t a single spot on my body that didn’t feel that kiss. It was soft and chaste, and all too fleeting. She moved back, her eyes completely dilated and fixed on mine. I’d taken us both by surprise, but I couldn’t be sorry because her lips against mine felt like magic.
It was everything.