A Thousand Reasons Why

Chapter 2

I woke up Friday morning thankful that I didn't have a first period class that day, so I wouldn't have to be at school until nine o'clock. Transferring to a new high school had worked out a million times better than I had expected it to. I guess I must have been lucky.

After I rolled out of bed, I slipped into fuzzy pink slippers and tucked some loose strands of hair back into my messy bun before stumbling down the staris in gray pajama shorts and a Harvard t-shirt. I was welcomed into the kitchen by my dad who was at the table eating cereal and reading the newspaper. 

"Good morning Claire bear," he said excitedly. 

Sometimes I felt guilty when I could tell how happy he was to have me staying with him. I didn't totally cut him out of my life for three years, but it was difficult to see him considering I was far away. I tossed my conflicting thoughts aside and giggled a little at my fathers enthusiasm. 

"Morning, Dad." I replied. 

"I made coffee if you want some," he said as he stood up and put his cereal bowl in the sink.

He almost always made coffee and thank God he did because I missed it so much. My mother hated the drink, probably because my dad loved it, not because of the bitter taste. So I had been deprived of it for way too long and I appreciated waking up to it in the mornings. 

I poured myself a cup of the warm drink and leaned back against the counter, watching him place folders and papers into his black briefcase. 

He looked up for a second, "Can you pick your brother up from his practice this afternoon?"

I nodded and brought my mug up to my lips but something caught my eye and distracted me from taking a drink. My morning sleepiness wore off as the figure clumsily made its way down the stairs in sweatpants and a black shirt- Harry. His tired squinting eyes caught mine for a moment and I quickly looked away, hoping my dad would notice him and make the situation less awkward. Harry stood at the foot of the stairs for only a few seconds before my dad realized he was there and nervously greeted him. Maybe he forgot we had a college boy living with us just like I did. 

"Claire I forgot to tell you about Harry," he began to introduce us. "He's going to stay with us while he interns with me at the firm."

"We met yesterday." Harry's husky voice surprised me. 

My dad glanced back at me with a questioning look. 

"Yeah," I confirmed. "After school. But I went up to my room and crashed pretty quickly last night."

"Oh, well Harry came down to help me out yesterday evening and we were working pretty late," my dad explained.

There was a slightly awkward silence before my dad kissed the top of my head, wished Harry good luck during his classes that day and left for work. 

I took a seat at the kitchen table and Harry moved to the fridge silently. It was strange to not be alone on Friday mornings when I usually had a quiet breakfast then sang off key while I got ready for school. Not knowing what to say, I kept quiet and gazed over the newspaper left on the table. Harry had found himself a bagel that he snacked on while leaning against the counter across from my seat and I could feel his eyes on me, making me anxious of my every move. 

"Are you gonna go to Harvard?" he finally spoke up. 

I looked up at him then down at my shirt then at him again. 

"I don't think so," I laughed. "My dad bought me this."

"Ah, so he wants you to be a lawyer like him?" said Harry.

"Probably. But after he's gone I usually trade out the college t-shirts for band shirts," I told him.

The sides of his lips pulled up, revealing dimples at the corners of his smile. "Good for you," he joked. 

I shrugged. "Wait, aren't you going to become a lawyer?"

"I guess so."

"You don't sound thrilled about it," I said.

He pulled out a chair and sat down. "You're not the only one with a pressuring dad."

I didn't know what to say to that. But I didn't want our conversation to end.

"What do you want to do?" I asked him. It was intimidating, for me at least, but the first thing he had ever said to me was a really loaded question, so I risked it.

He stared at his bagel for a few seconds, making me worried that I was prying. Just as I was about to apologize and tell him that he didn't have to answer, he spoke up: "I have no idea."

He had left me with nothing to say once again so I simply excused myself to go get ready for the day. 

I found myself standing in front of my closet, trying to pick out something to wear, but I was far too distracted by my own mind. I sighed, grabbed my journal off of my desk and opened it, knowing that I had to jot down my thoughts quickly before I forgot what I really intended to say. 

December 8

Harry is confusing. 

But I want to talk to him more. I want to get to know him. I want to crawl inside his mind and try to understand his thoughts. I want to know why he is who he is. I want to.

And I have no idea why.