Page 88 of Room to Breathe

“What do you want?” Harper asked.

This was a bad idea. I knew it when I’d thought of it and when I drove over. I knew even more when I walked the pathway to her house. But all that knowing didn’t stop me from knocking.

“You have some books that Beau loaned you. Can I get those back?”

One of her hands was still on the door, like a visual representation that she wasn’t going to open it all the way for me. “Beau sent you?”

“Not exactly.”

“Why should I trust you with them? You want to burn them or something?” Her expression was hard.

“No, I don’t. I’m going to return them to him.”

She gave a sharp laugh. “You’re hoping for a way in the door? He hates you, Indy. This won’t work. Nothing will.”

“No, we’re talking again…” That wasn’t exactly true. After finding that note, I’d rushed down to my mom and begged to be done with grounding. Begged for my phone back. It had been a week after all, I told her. She was going to give it to me in two hours anyway. She must’ve sensed my extreme desperation or was rewarding my very good behavior, because she’d handed it over.

There were several messages from Beau waiting. Most a variation of:Are we going to talk?orYou’re just going to ghost me?

He was right, we did need to talk. But not over text. And I didn’t want to show up at his door empty-handed. I needed a peace offering. That’s when I’d remembered the books.

“Tell him to come get them himself,” Harper said, shutting the door.

I put my hand out before it could fully close and it bounced back open. “Harper, please. I know I ruined everything with you two, but—”

“There’s a but?” she interrupted. “Please, tell me how you’re going to finish that sentence. But I should feel sorry for you? But you didn’t mean to? But he was always in love with you so I should thank you for opening my eyes?”

Her last statement stopped me short, shocked me silent for a moment. “He wasn’t,” I said.

“Oh, so you were blind too? Sure.” She rolled her whole head to show me she was being sarcastic.

“We were friends,” I said.

“If that’s the case, why did you hate me so much?”

“I didn’t. I liked you.”

She gave me a disbelieving eye squint.

I sighed. I needed to be truthful. “Okay, fine, I liked you as a person, but I didn’t like you for him.”

“Becauseyouknow what’s best for him?”

“No…I don’t know. Maybe I thought I did. It doesn’t matter, I lost him. I lost all of them.” And this was my first step in trying to fix that.

“But you want him back? And you’re going to, what? Get these books and show up on his porch like a hero?” She laughed in my face after perfectly detailing my plan.

“I don’t have to.Youcan do it,” I said. “Take his books back. Be the hero. I don’t care.” I did care, a lot, but I hoped my show of nonchalance would help. “I just want him to have them back. They’re his favorite.” And those statements were true.

“I know,” she said. Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.

“Is that why you kept them?” I asked. “You wanted him to show up here for them?”

“I don’t know what I want, Indy. An apology, maybe.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Not from you,” she snapped, her tone making it apparent she thought I was stupid. “From him. For being with me while he loved you.”