Chapter 7.
854 Words
The wind at the Peak had shifted, turning from a playful breeze into a biting gale that seemed intent on scouring the very skin from their bones. Harper stood there, her back to the drop-off, looking at the three people who had, in the span of a single morning, become her entire world. The list in Maxine’s hand was no longer just a scrap of paper; it was a blueprint for a life compressed into a high-speed highlight reel.
"Anything else?" Maxine asked, her pen hovering over the glittery notebook. She looked like she was ready to transcribe the Ten Commandments, her jaw set with a ferocity that suggested she would personally build a bridge to the moon if Harper asked for it.
Harper pulled her oversized hoodie tighter around her frame, the black fabric absorbing the pale morning sun. "Well, I think going out of the country is a no-go, considering we’re high school kids. I don't exactly have a passport in my back pocket, nor do I want to do anything that could hurt or get you guys in trouble. I'm the one on a deadline, not you three."
Kane, who had been leaning against the GTO’s fender picking at a loose thread on his leather jacket, looked up. His green eyes were sharp, cutting through her practicality. "Leave the deciding if we want to follow through with you up to us, Harper. Don’t play martyr for our sakes. We’re already in the car. Give us every dream, every single one. No filters."
Harper looked at him, then at Ryan, who was still wearing his varsity jacket like a relic of a life that no longer mattered. She took a deep breath, the air tasting of pine and exhaust.
"Well," Harper started, a small, mischievous glint returning to her eyes. "There are a few drugs I’d like to try- especially now that I don’t have to worry about the long-term effects. I mean, what’s a little brain fog when the whole system is shutting down anyway? And," she paused, a grin spreading across her face, "I want to get into a fight. A real one. I want to know what it feels like to land a punch on someone who actually deserves it. Hailey comes to mind, but I’d settle for anyone who looks at me with that pathetic 'poor girl' face."
Maxine scribbled 'Narcotics' and 'Assault' with terrifying enthusiasm.
"And I’d like to go to Hawaii," Harper continued, her voice softening as she looked toward the distant horizon where the sky met the hazy line of the earth. "I want to see the black sand beaches. And maybe Cuba- that’s a silly dream right now, I know." She chuckled, the sound a bit hollow.
She stopped then, her gaze dropping to her combat boots. The bravado, the sass, the "edgy teenager" mask- it all seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. The wind died down for a second, leaving a vacuum of silence that felt heavier than the gale.
"And I guess," Harper sighed, her voice barely a whisper, "the biggest dream I’ve ever really wanted... was to be married. A nice little home. Kids. The whole white-picket-fence cliché. I wanted to see what it was like to grow old with someone. To have someone know exactly how I take my coffee without asking, or to argue over whose turn it is to do the dishes for the fiftieth year in a row."
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable; it was mournful. Ryan looked away, his jaw working as he stared at the town below. Maxine’s pen stopped. Even Kane’s smirk vanished, replaced by a look of somber intensity.
"That's the one thing I can't do in thirty days," Harper said, trying to laugh it off. "I can get high, I can punch a cheerleader, and I can probably find a way to a beach. But I can't build a history. I'm a short story, guys. I'm not a novel."
"Who says?" Kane asked. He stood up straight, his presence suddenly filling the gravel overlook. "Who says you can't have the whole thing? We've got a month. In some cultures, a month is a season. In others, it’s a lifetime."
"He's right," Ryan added, his voice finally regaining some of its strength. He stepped closer to Harper, ignoring the way Kane was watching him. "If you want a house, we’ll find you a house. If you want a wedding, we’ll have a wedding. It doesn't have to be legal to be real, Harp."
"A wedding?" Harper laughed, a genuine, bright sound this time. "Who would I even marry? My boyfriend just ghosted me because he didn't want to deal with 'baggage.' I'm not exactly prime bridal material right now."
"I'll do it," Ryan said instantly. The words were out of his mouth before he could think, and he didn't look like he regretted them. "I'll marry you, Harper. I've been following you around since the third grade anyway. It wouldn't be much of a change of pace."
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