V.
I gaped at Harlow from across the room where we’d been hanging out. It took me a moment to process what she was telling me. I couldn’t believe this was happening, especially right after my argument with Julian.
“You’re seriously going to leave?”
Harlow nodded. She was sitting on the end of one of the twin-size beds in Debra’s guest room. “In about two hours. Julian said he could take me to the bus station before you guys eat dinner.”
I flopped down on the other twin bed.
“Tal,” Harlow said. “Don’t be mad.” She fiddled with her elephant-shaped pendant that had been made out of a recycled spoon. Quinn had given it to her last month. Before the elephant-shaped pendant, she almost always used to wear a simple silver necklace with a tassel. I had a matching one that I still wore.
“‘Mad’ isn’t quite the word,” I said. “I feel like you’re ditching me.”
“I’m not ditching you,” Harlow insisted. “It’s just … I don’t think you need me here anymore. This is your time. For you to be with your family. And you’re going to be able to get to know them better if I’m not always around talking over you.” She smiled nervously. “I know you think it’s annoying when I talk over you.”
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of being even the tiniest bit right.
“Plus,” she admitted sheepishly, “if I’m being honest, which I think I have to be, Quinn has a show tomorrow that I really want to make it to.”
I sighed and pressed my head deeper into the pillow. “Of course. I should’ve guessed.”
“But it’s not like that,” Harlow said quickly. “I would stay here if I really thought you needed me. But I don’t think you do. And I actually think I’m making things worse. But you know that I would stay, right?”
“Honestly? Not really.” I stared at the black-and-white photograph on the wall. It seemed to be a picture of the Oliver house, and it was the only decorative item in the whole room, unless you counted the one simple brass lamp. Debra was clearly not an ostentatious woman.
Harlow hopped off her bed and came over to sit down next to me. “Tal. Look at me.”
I glanced up at her reluctantly.
“I would stay. You know that, don’t you?” she repeated.
“Actually,” I snapped, “I don’t. Because I just had a big fight with Julian and I definitely feel like I still need you and yet you’re leaving anyway.”
She sat up on her knees. “You told me it wasn’t a fight. You said it was an argument.”
I half laughed. “Are you kidding me? You know it was a fight. Or at least something like it.”
She touched my shoulder, but I shrugged her off. “You know, Tal, I think it will be really good for you to talk with him about what he said.”
I squinted at her in confusion. “Why? So I can get pissed off at him all over again? I mean, what right does he have to push me to be more open with him? Or even worse, to judge my mom?”
“I don’t think he was judging your mom,” Harlow said quietly. “And you have to admit, he’s right. You aren’t exactly an easy person to get to know.”
“Yeah,” I said, tossing my hands in the air. “So maybe I’m making things a little difficult for him. But don’t you think I have the right to be a little suspicious of the dude? Just a tiny bit hesitant around him? I mean, where has he been my whole life? And now I’m thrown into this situation where I’m supposed to grieve a grandfather I never even met before today. So excuse me for having some emotional barriers, but I think it’s justified.”
Harlow chewed on her bottom lip.
“Just say whatever it is that you’re thinking,” I mumbled.
“It’s just,” she said, straightening her posture. She folded her hands onto her lap. “I think it’s totally natural to have a little bit of emotional distance with Julian, but it’s not just Julian, Taliah. You never let anyone new in.
“The whole time I’ve known you, which in case you’ve forgotten is since the first day of second grade, you’ve only ever trusted me and your mom.”
“So?” I said, and leaned back against the headboard.
“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”
I made a face. “That I don’t have a lot of friends?”
“No,” Harlow said quickly. “Obviously you have other friends.”
That was a generous thing of her to say, but not entirely true. I had other acquaintances. It’s not like if Harlow and I didn’t have the same lunch bell, I wouldn’t have anyone to sit with, but there wasn’t anyone else I told anything meaningful to. Sure, I had those people I’d chat with about my score on the pop quiz in bio or the latest episode of True Detective or Sufjan Stevens’s new album, but it never got any deeper than that.
“You just don’t …” She trailed off.
“Don’t what?” I pressed her, even though I already knew what she was going to say.
“Really have anyone close to you other than me and your mom.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “Well, it’s tough. You wouldn’t get that, but it is.”
Harlow narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It’s just it’s obviously so easy for you to trust people. You don’t ever seem worried that they’re going to hurt you.”
“Tal,” she said firmly. “Of course I worry about that. But that’s life. And I think the risk is worth it.”
I shrugged. “Well, good for you. But I don’t know about that. And you know what? You were enough for me, even though I obviously wasn’t enough for you.”
Harlow shook her head. “That’s so unfair.”
“How, Har?” I said, raising my voice and surprising us both. “How is that unfair? Did you or did you not basically ditch me for Quinn?”
Harlow shook her head again. “Tal. I didn’t ditch you for Quinn. Don’t you get it? The two of you occupy different places in my heart. Just because I love Quinn now too doesn’t mean that I love you any less. You seem to think that there’s only a limited amount of space in your life and in your heart, and I think you need to reconsider that. Expand your world and let down your guard a little bit.”
“Yeah,” I argued back. “But you were my number-one person, Harlow. The person I told everything to first. And you still are. And I used to be for you, but now I’m not. Don’t you get how much that sucks? How much that hurts?” I sucked in a deep breath as I felt a pressure building behind my eyes.
“But it doesn’t have to be like that. It’s not an either/or thing. I’m not ranking the people in my life. It’s not like Quinn is first and you’re second.”
“Well, it feels that way.” I clenched my fists. “I mean, we’ve stopped hanging out as much. We stopped writing our songs. Everything changed once you started dating Quinn, so I don’t get how you can just sit here and pretend like it didn’t.”
“Fine!” Harlow shouted, and it took me by surprise. I drew my knees to my chest. “You’re right. Maybe things have changed. But I’m not going to apologize for that, Tal. It’s called growing up. It can’t just be me and you forever and ever. That’s not healthy.”
I swallowed. The tears I was fighting back had left a briny taste in my throat. “It was enough for me,” I repeated quietly. “And I miss it.”
“Yeah,” Harlow said. She gave me a pitying look that somehow felt even worse than her yell.
“But it wasn’t enough for me. And it shouldn’t be enough for you. You need to learn how to let other people in. It’d be good for you, Tal.” She reached out for my hand. “I really do think this whole Julian thing is going to be good for you in that respect.”
There was a knock on the half-opened door to the guest room.
“Yeah?” I called out.
Julian poked his head through the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve got to leave now if we’re going to make it in time for Harlow to catch her bus.” He looked from me to Harlow and then back again. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, hugging my knees even harder. “Everything is really effing great.”