NEVER GOODBYE (An Albany Boys Novel) (2 page)

“Oh em gee! Lose that skirt this instant, Harper Jane Kennedy, or we’re not going.” I laugh because I know she’s bluffing; she’s been talking about this party since the first day I got to her school and Luke Peters invited us during third hour.

“Fine. Go alone; I’d rather stay at home anyway.” It’s a fat lie, but she doesn’t know that and she makes me laugh when she’s on the verge of losing her shit.

“Nooo!” And there’s the banshee I was waiting for. She flings herself on my bed which annoys the freaking crap out of me because I like sleeping in a made bed. If I didn’t I would never have made it to begin with ― My brother, Benny, has a theory that I’ve adopted: if you didn’t like sleeping in a made bed you wouldn’t have made it in the first place. Yet as my new best friend lies on my bed with that pout she knows makes me smile, I can’t help but forgive her.

“Quit your belly aching and your empty threats and get the hell off my bed before I kick your ass.”

“Will you lose that ugly-ass skirt?”

“It’s not ugly.” I look down at it and firmly believe it’s not ugly. It’s cute and at mid-length it still shows off my legs which, besides my hair are the only asset I’ve got going for me. Soon enough my hair will be taken from me so I’m going to make sure my legs get noticed.

She kicks her head to the side and grips the bottom sheet and instantly I know exactly what she’s threatening to do and this threat isn’t so empty. My eyes grow wide and I hold my hands up in retreating defense.

“Alright, alright. Let the sheet go and I’ll yield to your demands.” April laughs hard at my negotiating skills bringing a smile to my lips. I was going to go anyway, but if it meant my bed stayed tucked all nice and tight for when I return after the party tonight, then I would play her game.

This is another reason why I instantly loved my cousin; she doesn’t treat me like I am going to break any second if she says the wrong thing. She smiles wickedly and it amazes me how hot my cousin could be even when she isn’t trying; it makes me wonder why she remains single. With her looks and outgoing personality, she could have the boys dumb-struck, stumbling to her feet. Pity those looks don’t run in the family.

“Drop it,” she laughs, pointing to my skirt and then the ground. But instead of merely shucking it I begin my slow and sexy dance, giggling along as she stripper hums until I have the skirt free from my feet. I throw it at her face, laughing so hard my eyes begin to well up with tears.

“Hey, not the hair!” she scolds. “Do you know how long it takes for me to get this perfect? Oh wait, that’s right, you’re one of
those
.”

“What does that mean?” It took me half an hour to get a bikini on for God’s sake. Admittedly, I had to find them in a box since I hadn’t quite un-packed everything.

“That hair, the little plait that’s pulled your fringe and stuff out of your face and into that cute bow of hair, how long did it take to do that?”

I feel the smooth plait under my fingers. “It’s pretty much the same hairstyle I wear all the time because it’s easy and I’m too lazy for hair straighteners and product.” I’m not sure why, but suddenly I’m quite self-conscious about my hair.

“Uh-huh. I hate you.” She pulls a cute, angry face and I laugh because it’s so easy to laugh when I’m with her. She’s a blessing light amongst the darkness of what’s become my life.

“Uh-huh and I love your guts. But I’m telling you right now, and I don’t care if you rip every piece if of my bed apart, I am not going to this party only wearing a bikini; I’ll slip a dress over the top.”

“I have accessories on!” she rebukes in mirth. “Come on, Harper, what’s wrong with just wearing a bikini?” She waves a hand along her body as she stands up and heads for my mirror.

“There’s nothing wrong with
you
in a bikini, I’m just not doing it.” Now, I just have to find something to wear that I’ll be comfortable in and April won’t throw a fit about. It’s hotter than hell out there and the only stuff I’ve unpacked is what I’ve worn to school so far. There are three boxes that hold most of my life’s contents, other than what’s shoved in the corner of the room. One’s labeled ‘Harper’s clothes’ and the other two labels say ‘Harper’s crap.’ My clothes are strewn across the floor of the closet and hanging over the box. I grab the dress that was a touch away from falling from the box to the floor. “This one will do.”

“
This one will do
?” There’s that banshee tone again that she seems to save just for me. My dress is on before she has time to argue any further, when suddenly she looks at me with her brows peaked and she whistles like a sexist animal on heat. “Harper, you’re smokin’ H.O.T. in that dress. It cuts in
all
the right places and shows enough thigh to tease.” She whistles again and I can’t help the blush that comes.

A small part of me wants to take it off because the last thing I want to do at this school, or this party, is to bring attention to myself since that’ll be done for me whether I like it or not soon enough. Although a part of me, the part that wants to look beautiful or H.O.T. while I can, wants me to leave it on. I stand in front of my mirror with April behind me and I see what she sees and I like it. It even goes perfectly with my mother’s bracelet. I rattle it on my wrist and take a breath. I haven’t taken it off since the nurse gave it to me when they took mom in. I don’t think I ever will.

“Okay, before we go and especially since you’re looking all gorgeous and everything, I have five rules for tonight.” April goes all serious and it almost has me rolling my eyes, but I dare not. Been there and learnt from that mistake.

I pull a face and laugh once. “Only five?” Why not three or six?

“Don’t sass me,” she says and it kills me to hold back telling her that she sounds just like her mother, my Aunt June. But that will only make her scream, and I’m not really in the mood for that, despite the hilarity. “One,” she holds one of her fingers all serious like. “Carter Walsh is off limits.” This really surprises me since there hasn’t been any mention of him and she manages to mention everything. I want to ask a million, gazillion questions but she stops me with a look that she also gets from her mother.

“Two, she continues her finger counting. “We don’t go home until after twelve, no matter how tired you are, I want to see the morning with my cousin. Three, no thoughts of … you know what.” This one was a killer and a smirk escapes me before I’ve thought to keep it covered and she continues, “I know it’s hard and I’m breaking an un-spoken rule by bringing it up and all, but I want you to try and I’ll try, too.” That astonished the hell out of me because I always thought April was so wound up in her world that my depressing future didn’t even register. I love her more for it.

“Four,” She winks at me and suddenly I’m scared. “Let loose, just for tonight; say yes even though your brain says no ― within reason of course.” We both giggle. “Drink, but not too much that you get sick.” She pulls a face that I understand because no one looks hot puking their guts out in the garden. “But, experience your last night of freedom, your last night where medicine and your body can’t rule you.” I feel like crying because I can see the tears well in her eyes she’s struggling to rein in and April never cries. God, I love her guts right now.

“And, lastly, number five … everything that happens at the party is like Vegas.”

I burst with laughter and she falls along with me before she turns all serious on me again and points her manicured finger in my face. “I mean it, Harper. If my mom finds out, I’ll be driven to the nearest all-girls school in Kansas and you wanna know what happens to girls there? It’s like women’s prison; they start to bat for the other team and, I’m telling you right now, I love boys way too much. Got it?”

I nod, my cheeks hurting from the grin on my face and the chuckle I retain. “I got it; what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

“Exactly.”

“I think I’ve always wanted to say that.”

She laughs, “Me too.”

“Well, let’s get going and on the way you can tell me all about this Carter Walsh you’ve kept to yourself.”

April grabs my hand and squeals as she pulls me out of my room and we almost make it out the front door before my brother, Benny, jumps out from the living room and shoots April in the cheek with a
Nerf
dart. I gasp and she of course screams the eff bomb, leaving her and Benny glaring at one another. It would be hilarious if I didn’t actually believe April would probably rip his ten year old balls from his body.

Benny looks regretful as the milliseconds pass and the flight mode in him begins to take hold. Just as April takes a step toward him, he runs screaming for dad and I sigh because I know dad will want to see me off.

“Hold up, Angel,” dad calls. Yep, knew it. Giving April the eye, she mouths
sorry
as we wait in the entryway for him.

Dad’s already put up pictures of Mom on the wall, or maybe it was Aunt June who wants us to remember her sister for the woman she was before the accident. Maybe she just wants us to feel at home in our new house that smells anything but new. It smells of earth; I guess that’s what the country smells like and really, it could be worse, it could smell like a hospital. I hate hospitals.

“Angel.” Dad glances at April and notes her attire, or the lack thereof, before flicking his eyes and frown away and smiling at me. I’m relieved I wore the dress right now. But his smile doesn’t meet his eyes, it never seems to lately, he just looks weary and sad. He’s a shadow of the man I love and I hate myself for it. I hate a lot of things in life because of it and wonder if I’ll turn into nothing but a ball of raging hate if life keeps dealing us such a shithouse deck.

“You’re heading out already?” he asks the obvious. When did we stop talking like father and daughter? When he told me we were moving to Albany, Missouri, I had a small hope that out of all of the changes that were to come with this move, our relationship would be one of them.

Well, they say it’s good to have hope. I’m just not sure if I have given up mine yet.

“Yeah, it’s started an hour ago,” I say automatically, wanting to get out of here.

“We’re already fashionably late, Uncle Drew. But if we hang around much longer it’ll be plain rude.” Ahh, my rescuer. April’s gotten to know when I need an out very quickly; not just here with dad but also under the scrutiny of her mom. I don’t know what I would do at school without her. Being the new girl is like chum in the ocean — the sharks swoop in quick and hungry. Boys see me as fresh bait, girls see me … well much the same only they don’t want to get laid, they want to take out their competition. Little do they know, it’s pointless. Next week I will be far from competition, next week I will be the sick girl everyone feels sorry for, not lust after.

Dad nods, trying hard not to look at his niece in her boobalicious bikini and I want to laugh so bad because that was obviously her goal, to have the boys take notice of her and maybe Carter Walsh. She just hadn’t counted on my dad, who seems to have placed invisible blinders on to save himself from embarrassment since April is incapable of it. She has no shame and I love her to bits for it because I’m scared of being that kind of brazen.

“Okay. Well, I’ll see you later,” he says nervously and I feel the unspoken words.

“Yep.” I kiss his rough cheek and smile. “Love you.”

“I love you, too. Have fun, Angel.” No matter my mood I always feel the wave of warmth when he calls me that. As the story goes, when I was born and Lying across my mother’s chest all gooey and stuff, he said I was his Angel and Mom of course being the musical buff she was, called me Harper because it meant player of the harp. I can almost picture the bliss of the moment and then, just like that, the warmth is saddening because I know the likelihood of me finding a man and birthing a child to share moments like my parents shared, will more than likely never happen for me.

“Oh, we will, Uncle Drew.
We will
.” A small chuckle escaped me as I saw the mass of uncomfortable reasoning Dad was going through at April’s not so cryptic comment, not to mention the relief April always brought in my somber moments.

He could stop me from going out. He could give me rules or a curfew but instead he smiles that tight smile that he has been perfecting since the doctor gave him the news and lets me head out the door without a goodbye, because we don’t do those anymore. I guess he figures since I don’t stand much of a chance in surviving this disease or maybe the grueling chemo, then I should live life to the fullest while I can — which is exactly why I’m agreeing to April’s rules for the night.

***

“Luke’s house is gorgeous,” I say to April as we walk down the side toward the party. The whole place seems to be made of glass and a honey colored wood in log form. There’s a humungous pool and beautiful gardens that you can tell take money to upkeep in this damned drought.

“I know, right? That boy’s fam has the cash flow of the Hollywood A-list. I heard his step father’s in the Millionaires Club.
The Millionaires Club!
That shit is huge and yet Vaun doesn’t care. Who the hell ignores a father with millions? That boy has issues.”

“Wait. Who’s Vaun?” I’m confused. One minute we’re talking about Luke and the next thing she’s talking about some Vaun guy.

“Vaun is Luke’s brother … well, his step-brother and might I add quickly that there is a story there that no one will tell. Anyway, he is polar opposite to his brother. Still hot, but he’s the untouchable.”

“He’s a douche,” comes a voice from my right. Luke swoops in and kisses my cheek before replicating the act on April, who ate it up. Apparently they have been playing the flirting game since pre-K. He smells of beer and salt and earth — everything smells of earth — and as friendly as he’d been toward me in the first week of school, the kiss was
way
too personal. Maybe this is the wholesome country way, but being a Seattle girl, it’s just too touchy for me.

“Whatever,” April says laughing, already looking out into the groups for Carter. It turns out I’d met him in my art class, he’s an awesome sketcher and always seems to have a camcorder with him. We both spot him at the same time and she grabs my hand because it seems April isn’t the only one who has eyes for Carter, and to be honest, it’s no wonder. The boy is cut. But for April’s sake I will chicken pox and tummy bugs on all their bikini-clad asses.