Harper had lost track of how long she'd been sitting on the curb. Long enough, her legs had started to go numb underneath her. She'd given up checking her phone a while back, mostly because she didn't know what she wanted to see on it, Luca's name or nobody's name at all.
The party sounded far away from out here. Bass through a wall, laughter in pieces, somebody yelling something every couple of minutes that never quite made it through clean.
She'd already cried, which bugged her more than whatever had made her cry in the first place. Fiona hadn't called her poor. Hadn't called her plain, or boring, or any of the words that would've at least given Harper something to be angry about. She'd smiled through the entire thing, actually, and somehow that was worse.
"Talking to yourself now?"
