The Fuck Up

xii.

The goodbyes were rushed the next day. Kristy was clinging onto me for as long as she could before I made it known I was getting uncomfortable. Once I pried her off me, my mother, much to my surprise, also gave me a hug. It was albeit short, but the smile she gave me afterwards was genuine and sad and it made me more uncomfortable than any of her damn fake smiles ever did.

My father didn’t say anything to me, but we connected eyes for the first time in days and the look in his eyes was—for the first time in a long time—something other than displeasure or disappointment.

Harley was all words and hugs and we’ll try to visit again soon. He even shook my father’s hand, and I was shocked my dear old man accepted the gesture instead of immediately wrinkling his nose and drenching his skin in disinfectant.

I don’t know if Harley would’ve left anytime soon if I didn’t decide enough was enough and drag him to the fucking car.

“Take forever, why fucking don’t you,” I grumbled once we were buckled in our seats. He smiled and shot me a look without any malice behind it.

I rolled my eyes as he waved to my family—who were watching us from the front door—one last time before pulling away from the house. I don’t know if I exhaled until we finally saw the sign that told us we’d left my hometown behind.

“We’re never doing that again,” I told Harley, annoyed at the whole event.

“Yes, we are,” he assured offhandedly.

“No, we are fucking not.”
   
“Whatever you say, Reed.”

Irritation sparked. I turned my body to face him more, jaw clenched. “If you fucking think—”

“Do you think they heard us last night?”

I would’ve been so angry at him changing the subject if I wasn’t so distracted by the question.

My face heated slightly and I quickly turned away to look out my own window. I rested my elbow to lean my mouth on my hand. My words were slightly muffled. “I doubt they didn’t, with how much the headboard was fucking banging against the wall.”

“Did I hurt you?” His concerned tone doused my angry embarrassment some.

“My ass is still throbbing. Figure it out yourself, bastard.”

He took one hand off the wheel and slipped it into mine. I fought hard not to react. “Good,” he answered, surprising me. “Now you’ll know not to doubt me.”

“Fuck you,” I mumbled into my hand, my face on fire.

He laughed. “You did.”

His laughter quickly turned to hisses as I nearly crushed his fingers between my own.

When we got home, we quickly returned back to normal as if the trip to meet my family hadn’t happened. Harley never mentioned my two breakdowns during the trip, and I didn’t bring it up either. There were things that changed, though.

Before, I never initiated things between us. Now, I found myself sometimes reaching for his hand on my own when we were in the car or watching television, and sometimes if I kind of wanted him to kiss me but didn’t want to say it, I’d tug on his shirt. It was always embarrassing because he’d always get this big ass, shiteating grin on his face.

Months passed like that. I didn’t really realize how comfortable I was until Harley didn’t come home one night.

As much as I usually pretended his presence didn’t mean shit to me, I couldn’t help but be fucking angry.