Harper Brooke has a crush on Steve Andrews, the tall, handsome boy who just moved into the house opposite hers. She was happier on learning that he would join her high school soon.
However, a twist for Harper or tragedy for Steve struck.
Due to a n...
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Part of the chocolate scoop dripped on the side of the cone.
A few drops landed on her mustard yellow T-shirt. Harper Brooke hissed as if it were venom piercing her skin. She licked the cone and took a large bite of the crunchy and nutty wafer. Stumbling upon a rock, she placed a hand on the wall to regain her composure.
Unfortunately, the ice cream was crushed, on the other hand. A liquid mixture of vanilla and chocolate adorned her fingers.
"Oh no," she exclaimed.
Exasperated by losing the sweet treat she had been craving during her math tuition an hour ago, Harper moved closer to the wall and shrugged her school bag off her shoulder. She dropped on both knees. After a little struggle, she unzipped the pocket. Her water bottle is empty. The small tissue packet contained one last handkerchief.
A small girl holding her mother's hand mocked Harper as she walked by. She stuck her tongue out and made a face.
With reddened cheeks, Harper looked down and wiped her hand. The ice cream, which will soon attract ants, gathered in a colored irregular circle at the side of the pavement. Hand-sticky with residue and T-shirt stained, she hung her bag on one shoulder and continued her way home.
Sunset came in a bright blaze where shades of orange mixed with purple dominated the hidden blue sky. A light gust of wind moved through the branches. Cool air fanned across her greasy face. Harper smiled as anything cold is a savior on this warm spring day where she had physical education in the last two periods.
As usual, the neighbors were parking their cars by the roadside, ties loose or blazers hanging at their elbows. Some were getting off by taxi or company vehicles. Kids were playing on the lawns, and the health enthusiasts in their tracksuits headed for their evening run.
Other teenagers like her were either coming back home from tuition or hanging out at the mall after school hours. Cars honked in the background. Rich kids sped off in their sports cars along her street. The old ladies with canes criticized. Young fathers with hands on their waists shook their heads. No action has ever been taken against these noisy drivers disrupting the peace in a place full of kids despite making several complaints.
Once the mesmerizing red Ferrari disappeared from her sightline, she continued.
Interaction with strangers is problematic for an introvert. Yet Harper has returned a nod or a little smile to Lucinda, the dentist, Austin, the bald accountant, and Jay, the part-time barista, as they walked in the opposite direction. She is obliged as they have all witnessed each other growing older in the exemplified and welcoming neighborhood of Linton Hill.
The newest addition moved into the craftsman home opposite her house. Harper figured they were mother and son. The woman of medium height had dark hair and a round face. And the boy, oh boy, where would she even begin?
