The hum of the ceiling fan gently wakes me, its poor motor exceed the life expectancy the manufacturers had given it years ago. Dusty blades rotate in the center of my bedroom, offering more white noise than actual cooling, but the effort is appreciated.

Traces of light and the sweet smell of rain filters through the sway of the curtain from the open window. I can feel the chill in the air, a subtle reminder of the change in seasons, as autumn arrives clearing a path for winter and all she has planned. I’ll attempt to remember, to slow down and enjoy the pictures Mother Nature painted for us in the leaves on the trees, and the flavors of the season.

Deep green eyes greet me from the bedside table, a toothy grin full of mischief and dreams. His picture does him no justice, as his warmth has the ability to erase even the deepest chill old man winter can brew up. The love in those eyes, so all-consuming and reserved for me, reveal a softer side of him kept private from the prying eyes of those around us.

Alexander Gray, my brother’s best friend and resident pain in my behind growing up, managed to stitch himself into the fabric of my life, making his hold permanent and everlasting.

Snuggling into my pillow, I recall with fondness how he and my brother would run off behind the house to play Army men, while I surrounded myself with stuffed animals and a tea set. I would sing songs and entertain myself until the boys became tired and hot, stealing my lemonade and cookies, leaving me a crying mess only to do it all over again the next day.

As we grew older, the games and interactions changed, the relationship morphing into something new. Books became my solitude, my nose proverbially buried between the pages, lost to worlds where knights slayed dragons before they could kidnap the princess. My brother and Alex discovered organized sports, specifically football.

As they grew and their skill level increased, the eyes and attention of girls their age zoned in on the ever-growing muscle and definition of certain charms. With the newfound status and attention, their view on me changed as well. My brother, Ross, began picking on me, showing off for his new friends and never ending line of female admirers.

Sadly, I became victim to several schemes in an attempt to get closer to him. After a while, I placed a wall between us, limiting the people around me to those I knew before the popularity began. Alex was the guy everyone wanted to be friends with, the one who helped with every good cause, volunteered for countless organizations, and lended a helping hand to everyone he knew.

The summer of my freshman year became a game changer for me, while Ross and Alex went off to football camp, my body developed overnight, giving me curves and, more importantly, boobs. Rumors would have started accusing me of stuffing my bra, except the city built a swimming pool and it was the place to be the first day of summer vacation. I showed up with my friends, wearing a bikini, which left no room for the rumors to grow. By the end of the first week, I had a tan and my first boyfriend, Mark.

The relationship lasted two weeks, long enough for my brother and Alex to get wind of it and scare the piss out of him. Poor Mark was one of many that particular summer the pair of them intimidated from two states away, calling the guy on the phone and handing out threats as if they were compliments.

Any attempt at getting help from my father resulted in increased frustration as he agreed the young men pursuing me were not right for me if they scurried away with their tails between their legs after the slightest amount of pressure.

“Harper, you need a man who is strong on the inside as well as the outside. Able to hold his own and stand up for what he believes in.”

At the time, it was wasted words on the broken heart of a young girl, one who would grow to appreciate the wisdom in his love.

Right before Christmas that year, a new boy by the name of Brady moved to the district. He was tall and handsome; with a smile perfect enough to melt the hardest heart. Every girl I knew wanted to be wrapped around his arm, labeled as his girl and have all the benefits associated with the title. Just before the holiday break, I received a note in my locker, letting me know Brady had an eye for me. I remained calm, as much as a young girl could when a boy she liked returned her feelings.

Brady approached me later in the day, asking if I was available to go out with him that weekend, I accepted and rose to cloud nine, convinced Heaven could not possibly be any better than this. Friday morning I walked with a smile on my face, dreaming of how the day would be filled with glances from Brady. However, as I rounded the last corner to get to my locker, Alex hovered over a cowering Brady his index finger planted in the center of his chest. I didn’t have to hear the words or see his face to know the date would never happen.

For nearly a month after, I refused to speak to Alex or my brother, my father kept his distance as he and my mother had begun to have problems in their marriage. When Valentine’s Day came around, Ross tried to bribe me with flowers and candy; I tossed them both back at him and slammed the door closed.

As quickly as my body turned from bomb to bombshell, I stepped back into myself. I quit wearing makeup and pretty clothes, avoided social events and concentrated on my studies.

One afternoon, as I was sitting in the library, I overheard some students discussing the prom and how the administration had opened it up this year, allowing freshmen and juniors to attend. Slamming my book closed, the frustration of the past few months creating a new sadness in my chest. Had I been speaking to my brother or Alex, I would have accused them of ruining everything. In my haste to get out of the school, away from the colorful posters and announcements of the ticket sales for the event I would never attend, I ran into Oliver Pittman, math club president and king of the pocket protector wearing clan. He fumbled around, shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, his inhaler to his lips as he recovered from the wrecking ball of my life. He scooted off at a hurried pace, glancing over his shoulder twice as he put as much distance between us as possible. As he ran through the final exit door, he moved quickly enough to the side giving me an unobstructed view of Alex singing to the head cheerleader, Laura Fiddler, his subtle way of asking her to the prom.

I wanted to hit him, make him feel the level of pain I did, have him look into my eyes and see what loneliness looked like. Instead, I turned on my heels and cut through the science lab, using the exit at the side of the building to avoid watching Laura as she cheered her acceptance of his proposal. I was almost to the sidewalk when I heard my name called, the voice changing octaves as if struggling to make it through puberty. Glancing over my shoulder, I caught sight of Oliver walking quickly in my direction, his fingers pushing back his side-combed hair as the breeze whipped it around his face. His breathing was labored, his index finger pushing at the middle of his glasses, sliding them back into place.

“Harper, please forgive my rudeness. I’ve meant to make an appointment with you, but my schedule has not permitted me to do so.”

Oliver had the IQ of a genius and the social graces of a slug, still, I couldn’t erase the smile he created on my face.

“Would you consider going to prom with me?”

His voice cracked as he managed to get the last word out, swallowing hard to clear his throat and tame the hormones, which wreaked havoc on most boys his age. Oliver was a senior by GPA, testing out of most of the curriculum and leaving his teachers scratching their heads as to what to teach him. Several colleges had made offers, but he wanted to spend one year having the high school experience, which apparently included attending prom.

“If you’re willing, we could do a compatibility experiment by attending the basketball tournament in the gymnasium tomorrow afternoon.”

Our high school won the district championship, giving us home court advantage in the state playoffs. Alex and my brother had both made the team and would be there. Given the silence they had received from me, they wouldn’t know it if I attended or not.

“I’d love to come with you, Oliver.”

Like most nights at our house, dinner was less family time and more of how creative we could all be in avoiding one another. Dad and I tended to gravitate to the bar, while our mother and Ross sat at the table in the next room. Tonight Alex came over, which sent me upstairs to my room and my mother in the den with a liquid dinner, instead of the meatloaf she made for everyone else. A little after midnight, I crept back downstairs to put my plate in the dishwasher and see if mom had made anything for dessert, but Alex was crashed on the couch, an empty pie plate on his chest. Breaking my mother’s rule of cleaning up after yourself, I tossed my plate into the sink and ran back up the steps. I hated Alex and his ability to destroy everything for me, my love life, and the relationship with my family, and now the last bite of my mother’s homemade pie.

The next morning, both plates were clean in the dish drainer and both boys already out the door, on their way to the championship game. Mom came out of the den, her hair a mess and the look of sleep on her face, all clear signs she had slept in the chair I last saw her in last night. Her eyes looked empty and sad, reflecting the feelings I had hidden behind baggy clothing and clean skin.

“You’re such a smart girl, Harper.”

She praised around a cup of coffee. Her encouragement was meant to make me smile, but she had no idea the torment I felt, being smart didn’t get you anything but good grades.

The gym was alive with the sounds of cheering, whistle blowing and the squeaking of shoes against the polished wood of the court. Oliver and I arranged to meet at the edge of student seating. Scanning the sea of students, I found him three rows from the top, his focus attuned to the game. Keeping to the edge of the court, I made my way to where he sat, his eyes following the action, the white collar of his shirt peeking out of the top of his red school sweatshirt, the eyes of our mascot, a wolf staring back at me. I never bothered to purchase any team spirit items, as I coined them, not caring enough about the team to waste my money.

Taking the first step on the bleachers, metallic red and black pom-poms flashed in my peripheral vision. Chancing a look, I found Laura and her copy-cat friends, dressed from head to toe in red and black, Alex’s number painted on the right side of her face. Laura had a reputation for sexual conquests, which matched the number on her cheek. She had a preference for men at the top. According to my brother and his talk with my father I accidentally overheard one night, Laura had given him all the signs she wanted him, but he was interested in another girl, one who didn’t make the roster in the popularity game. Our father told him if he worried his buddies class ring would fall out of her, it was best to leave her for the next guy.

Oliver’s eyes finally landed on me, a smile of recognition as he stood from his seat and motioned me toward him. Acting as the gentleman I assumed he would be, he allowed me to sit on the inside of the bleachers. We spent the last minutes of the game with Oliver asking me questions about my likes and dislikes; his questions appearing rehearsed. I imagined he wasn’t as versed at speaking with girls as he was at mathematical equations.

When our team won, he jumped to his feet, and I briefly considered how he was a contradiction in terms; a mathematical scholar who was also a sports fan, the two not being mutually exclusive when it came to the norm. As the players left the court, he offered to grab me a drink and popcorn, but I declined, he hurried off to grab something for himself, assuring me he wouldn’t be gone long.

Several minutes later, the next game began but there was no sign of Oliver. I needed to use to restroom, so I asked the guy sitting beside me to save our seats. As I exited the gym, I saw the line to the ladies room was so long it came out the door and down the hall. I knew the location of a much smaller bathroom, one the janitorial staff used to store brooms and mops. As I hurried down the hall, I noticed my father talking with Ross and Alex, towels wrapped around sweaty necks and proud smiles on faces. I hurried down the hall and around the corner to avoid them seeing me.

Walking through the janitor’s office, I stilled as the lights were off except for the closet on the back wall. I listened to see if someone else knew about this bathroom and had beaten me to the punch. When I heard nothing, I walked hurriedly across the carpet and opened the door, letting out a bone-crushing scream as I caught sight of what, or rather who, was inside. Leaning against the large tub sink, his sweatpants down around his ankles, stood Coach Loft, his hand buried in Oliver’s hair while he plunged his dick inside his mouth. Oliver was completely naked, his glasses on top of his neatly folded clothing, the hand not tugging at Coach’s balls, wrapped around his own dick, masturbating as he gave the much older man a blow job.

I heard my father’s voice first, as the pair separated and attempted to look a lot more innocent than they were. It was the large arm, that wrapped around me, pulling me against a wet chest, which I recall with more clarity than what my father said to the pair of them. Alex picked me off my feet, running down the hall and into a vacant room, asking me repeatedly if I was okay?

The police were called, Coach Loft was arrested, and my mother came to the school to take me home. Alex and my brother went back out on the court and won the championship.

Monday morning came and with it the rumors flying around. Coach had been placed on administrative leave pending the outcome of his trial, and Oliver and his family had packed up and left in the still of the night. An assembly had been called to congratulate the basketball team and give the students as many facts about what was going on as they could. Laura and her friends sat in seats two rows ahead of me, close enough where what she chose to share got the attention of enough people to spread through the ranks.

“Apparently holding hands with Harper Kincaid will turn even the most desperate man gay.”

Oliver had taken my hand in his as we sat together on the bleachers, a couple of students below us noticed, but I assumed they didn’t care. As the laughter broke out in the seats around me, the walls Oliver had began to knock down fortified themselves as I leapt out of my seat and headed for the nearest exit. As I pushed the release bar for the door, I could hear my brother call my name followed by someone yelling, “stupid bitch,” but I kept running until I made it to the safety of my bedroom.

The next day, my parents allowed me to stay home from school, and I plotted how to convince them to let me go live with my grandparents. But as afternoon rolled around, my father knocked at my door, asking to come in and talk with me. He reminded me none of this was my fault and no one can make a person feel anything they don’t allow them to. It was time I took back any power I had given to the kids who laughed along with Laura Fiddler.

“Harper, people like her tend to get what they deserve. You just have to be willing to wait long enough for it to happen.”

As I came downstairs later in the evening, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find every member of the basketball team standing on our front lawn with Alex in the center of the group, a guitar on his knee and several bunches of flowers around him.

“Harper Kincaid, will you go to the prom with Alex?”

They sang in unison as Alex continued to strum out a tune about the color of a girl's eyes.

After I stormed out, Alex caught wind of what Laura had said, my brother had to abandon his pursuit of me to keep Alex from beating the crap out of one of the guys sitting close to Laura, who she had been messing with all along. Alex took back his invitation to prom and announced to the entire student body how Laura had a third nipple. Not like a tiny mole, but almost a third boob, and it was as flat as the other two she used padding to enhance.

I’m not sure what made me agree to go to prom with Alex, something deep inside telling me this was the path my life was destined to follow. Just as chasing him around the yard as a little girl, getting angry when he teased me, and forgiving him when he apologized for being the reason behind my tears. Years later, the cycle was continuing, and yet changing direction.

Alex arrived at our house in a fresh tuxedo and corsage in hand, it was the first night in years my parents remained in the same room and held hands as they wished us a good night from the front steps. I had assumed it would feel strange sitting so close to Alex, like one of those sad stories of how the girl had to go to a dance with her cousin, but it wasn’t. Alex held my hand and pulled me close as the photographer took our picture.

He introduced me to his friends as his date, not his friend, and kept me close as the conversations continued. When the music changed and the soulful voice of the current chart topper spoke of being in love and belonging together, Alex pulled me close and swayed as the colorful lights danced off both of our faces. His lips absent of a smile and the seriousness in his eyes ran deep.

“Harper, I’m about to change everything.” With confused eyes, and a quickened heartbeat, I scanned his face. “I want to kiss you. I need to make you understand how I feel about you, leave you with a firm understanding of what I’ve been fighting. All those boys I chased away? I did it, not because of my need to protect you, but my need to posses you.”

He gave me an opportunity to object, to walk away and remain as we had before, but when he found none in my eyes, his lips descended to mine. Alex, being nearly a foot taller than me, lifted my feet from the ground as his lips parted and the tip of his tongue introduced itself. I’d been kissed before, but never like this, and never by someone who knew how.

“Every time you kissed me, you set my world on fire.” Running my finger down the glass of the frame, I’m still able to recall every detail of the moment the photo was taken, a moment in time I have frozen forever. Alex had been right; everything did change with his kiss.

The next morning, he came over and spoke with my father, gave him his word to treat me with respect. Then he and Ross took off for the backyard where they played as young boys, returning a few hours later with an understanding forged between them.

I became Alex Gray's girlfriend, and for the remainder of the school year the envy of half the female student body. Ross finally asked the girl he had eyes on, Holly Edwards, out for a movie. They dated for four months before her family had to move to Germany.

When graduation time came around, I expected Alex to break things off as he had a full scholarship to the University of Michigan, but he didn’t. For two years, we sent letters back and forth, called every chance we got, he was home every school break and made a special trip to escort me to prom.

When my senior year ended, he was sitting beside my parents as I walked across the stage. We celebrated all weekend, as I had been accepted to the same university. Alex found an affordable apartment and we would be living together for the first time in our lives. It took some getting used to, but Alex didn’t pressure me when it came to sleeping together and as August of that year turned into September, I couldn’t imagine my life could get any more perfect.

I woke up on a Tuesday morning, my only class free day with the intention of creating a romantic atmosphere for Alex and I to have sex for the first time. He had been patient long enough and so with a mission in mind, I set about making plans. I’d barely gotten out of the shower when Alex and my brother came rushing in the apartment, he turned on the tiny television in the corner and we all watched as a single airplane smashed into the World Trade Center. Chills ran down my spine, as we remained silent while the news anchor spoke of the horrific events, while the smoke and debris filled the streets of New York. My legs gave out and I leaned my body against Alex, who was shaking so bad it made me gasp. He held me closer as we sat on the floor of our apartment and watched the world change around us.

The next morning Alex woke me before the sun came up, telling me to pack a bag as we were going back to Virginia. Ross joined us as we loaded Alex’s truck for what I assumed would be a short trip home. But when he and Ross disappeared on Saturday morning, not returning until after midnight, I knew something big was about to happen.

My father woke my mother and Alex’s parents came from three houses over as Ross and Alex announced they had joined the marines. No one was surprised as this was who Alex was, the guy who did the right thing and helped every stranger in need.

We drove back to Michigan, packed up the apartment, and I withdrew from school, transferring to a community college close to my parents’ home. Alex didn’t like the thought of me staying in Michigan, and honestly neither did I.

Three weeks later, at a dinner to say goodbye to Alex and Ross, with all of our friends and family setting around the table, Alex dropped to one knee and asked me to marry him.

“Baby, you plan the wedding of your dreams, and the first chance at leave I get, I’ll be standing at the end of the aisle to make you my wife.”

As the time for the pair to go away to boot camp grew closer, I planned for our last night together to be spent in a hotel where we could be alone one more time. Alex carried me over the threshold, calling it practice for when he came home.

We loved each other soft and slow, he even apologized for hurting me as he broke through my barrier. He asked me to shave his head, knowing all of his beautiful hair would be swept up in a pile and tossed with the rest of the new recruits. I picked up a curl, wrapped it in a tissue and stuck it in my purse. Picking up the silk nightgown I’d let him peel off me, I snapped the satin ribbon he spoke so fondly of. Cutting a lock of my hair, I braided the ribbon into the long strands. He took the ribbon and wove it into the band of his watch, and then pulled me close as we once again lost ourselves in each other.

The next morning, before the sun had an opportunity to come up, we stood in a huddle as Ross and Alex joined the ranks of the men who would serve our country. We were given thirty seconds to say our final goodbyes, so Alex wrapped himself around me and swore to take care of me.

“I’m coming back to you, the first chance I get, I will be right back here, in this exact spot.” He teased me, and then kissed me soundly, “I love you, Harper.”

His mother called our names and as we turned to face her, she snapped a photograph, framing it so I could have it close to me. I placed it beside my bed, its permanent home until he returned to me.

November found me writing every day to Alex. When his mother contacted me about sending a box to him for Christmas, I argued they might get to come home for the holiday, but a letter crumpled in her hand told me different. Alex had sent word to his mother he had been selected to deploy to Afghanistan, lacking the courage to tell me himself. Three days later, I received word Ross would also leave for the Middle East, so Bonnie, Alex’s mother and I went to work putting boxes together.

The New Year came and with it a phone call from Ross, he would be assigned to a new base, Camp Leatherneck. It had been six weeks since I had heard anything from Alex, his last letter told me how hot it was in the desert and how much he missed me, but nothing about a change in station.

Valentine’s Day came and with it a letter, Alex had promised me so many things, some promises he kept and some of them he didn’t. Taking care of me and making sure I had what I needed he excelled at, but today wasn’t a day to think of the promises he forgot. Celebrating the joy around me, looking forward to the new and exciting life I was about to live, beginning with the bridal shower I was going to be late for if I didn’t get a move on. Looking at the diamond on my left hand, I kissed the photograph and crawled out of bed.