Grease Paint Excerpt Chapters 1-3

Grease Paint Excerpt Chapter 2

Harper clung to Conrad's strong arm, reveling in the sensation of their hips periodically colliding as they walked along the road to the motel. His umbrella protected her from the drizzle. Her fingernails curled against the cuff of his jacket. "Is it supposed to rain the entire time?"

"Thank god, no." Conrad had such a handsome laugh. "It clears up tonight and is supposed to be sunny--such as it is around here--for the rest of the trip."

Cars glided slowly by the group and through the center of town. Like all the blips on a map that managed to have a name, the whole town consisted of that main road, which was really just the highway, but with the speed dropped down. This particular highway was the only way to get from anywhere that mattered on one side of the Thornwoods to anywhere that mattered on the other. As such, it was always busy even this late. There were half-a-dozen such blips sprinkled along the highway just close enough to be annoying.

The friends made their way from the diner set up in the bottom floor of a colonial house to a roadside motel a few blocks away. The juxtaposition of the homely historical and banal modern ignited Harper's imagination. She wondered if people in the 1700s thought their buildings were boring compared to what was there before, like she did now.

"I'm glad." Harper dipped her chin. "How is school going?"

"Solid, thanks," Conrad said and squeezed her arm. "Graduate school's rough sometimes, boring as hell other times. Classes are going well for you?"

Harper watched the cars glide by so she wouldn't have to look Conrad in the eye while she lied. "They're good, yeah. Good. You know."

"I know," Conrad said and nodded.

Ben quietly snorted. Harper shot him a withering look. In turn, her brother shrugged and let the lie pass. He cleared his throat, hurried his steps, and said, "Come on, Henry, let's make sure the rooms are ready."

Henry tugged at his hoodie while giving side eye to Conrad and Harper. "Yeah, sure."

As the pair headed off, Tom and Otto slowed, chatting about the route. Tom tried to assuage the thin man's fears by pointing out their route was close to a few fire roads as far as he knew. If they ran into trouble, they could strike out onto one of those.

"So, how's, uh... Tamara, was it?" Harper looked up at Conrad, tucking a loose strand behind her ear.

"Tammy?" Conrad laughed. "Oh, she ended up being a basket case. We broke up months ago. Just the way the cookie crumbles, I guess."

"I guess." Harper wet her lips. They entered the motel parking lot. Thin puddles rippled under her boot steps. "Don't worry, the right woman will show up sooner or later."

Conrad stopped walking. Enough of the rain got past his umbrella to slick down his black hair so it framed his strong features and steely blue eyes. She tried not to squirm under his gaze. He spoke in a confident tone. "Sometimes I wonder if I know her already."

"Oh," she breathed. Did he mean her? Harper prayed to God, he meant her. Her hands itched at the idea of holding the sides of his damp face, leaning up into a long romance-movie kiss. Instead, she stood there awkwardly staring up at him for several mute seconds. Conrad reflected her muted response. The rain tapped on their shared shade. The world slowed down to a crawl. The hotel lobby's door opened, and a few electronic riffs of Get Lucky tried to nudge the pair in the right direction.

"I should go see if Ben has our room ready." The words tumbled from Harper's lips. She winced internally. "Early start tomorrow."

"Early start, yeah." Conrad nodded and offered out the umbrella. "It's not safe to go alone, take this."

She giggled. He chuckled. They parted ways. Henry waved to her as he exited from the lobby and headed to the same room as Conrad.

"Damn it," Harper muttered. She sucked in a slow breath and let it out at equal speed. She looked after Conrad, but the door to the room he shared with Henry clicked closed. "Damn it, Harper."

There would be more chances over the next week. Maybe, but the other boys would be around the entire way. Harper rolled her eyes and stalked to her and Ben's room. Yet another thing that was 'on him.' Of course, she wanted to spend time with all the rest of the lads too. They'd been her crew ever since Ben dragged her along to play a dozen summers ago. Conrad decided what games they'd play then, and not much had changed as adults. All she needed was a few moments alone in the woods to take her shot. It was just taking the shot that was Harper's problem. What was the Gretzky quote again? You miss 100% of the shots you don't take.

As she passed the door to her room, Harper's shoulders slumped. She'd missed so many shots by not taking them the last few years. But that was something to worry about tomorrow. She had plenty of time. Right now, she needed a cold drink to cool her mind before bed. Harper caught Otto poking Tom in the side as they slipped into their shared room. Harper eased between two cars and into the darkened doorway with a crackling ICE sign above it.

An engine roar echoed through the parking lot like a banshee's call. Harper's attention whipped back to the street, expecting to see a car crash in progress. Instead, she caught the sleek lines of a muscle car as black as night rumbling on the wet pavement. Its hubcaps and wheels were an uncomfortable, off-white. She wasn't even close to a car nut but recognized it as a 60's Mustang. She also felt the driver's unseen gaze from behind tinted windows that couldn't be legal.

Harper shivered under it. Her thumbs pricked. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh. Her lungs tightened. Even though the light changed, the Mustang didn't move. It rumbled there like a savanna's predator staring down its prey. Harper swallowed. Her fear didn't make a lick of sense, but it was there. Likewise, she remained shocked-still like said prey. Until another car on the road laid on the horn. She jumped and stifled a scream.

The black Mustang peeled out and in a moment was out of view. Harper could breathe again. Harper felt like she'd just missed being snatched off the street for... something. Something she'd not like or survive. She shook her head and chased the irrational feeling aside.

That irrational fear came uncoiled the moment a hand gripped her shoulder. Harper let out a horror-movie scream.

"Jesus, Harp," Henry said with a wince. "It's just me. You, okay?"

He stood half out of the shadowed doorway. He'd unzipped his hoodie, revealing a Mario Bros' t-shirt underneath. His palm rubbed her shoulder in the act of being the nice guy he liked to think of himself as.

"I just," Harper sighed, "you know, all those stories. Just freaked me out a bit, I guess."

"Yeah," He rolled his eyes. His hand didn't retreat. "Love them to death, but they can be jerks, you know?"

Harper nodded and said, "I guess. They don't do it on purpose you know."

"I know, but it's still not cool." Henry shrugged. Harper took a half step away from him so that his hand finally returned to his side, then sank into his pocket. "So, uh. Are you going to be around home for a bit once this is all over?" After Harper nodded, he continued. "Cool. Cool. We should have coffee or something, sometime."

"Henry," Harper sighed again and folded her arms, "sure, we can do that but it's not a date, ok? Nothing's changed."

Henry hid behind an easy grin. "I know. I know. Furthest thing from my mind."

Harper doubted that, but said, "goodnight, Henry."

"Goodnight, Harp."