A Mean Boy, Busted Lip, and Confession filled Party

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in which griffin and harper are at a party and griffin gets in a fight. he gets beat up and harper patches him up on the back porch of the party. griffin confesses his feelings in result of the fight. 

TRIGGER WARNING: SWEARING, UNDERAGE DRUG AND ALCOHOL MENTIONS, VIOLENCE, DEROGATORY LANGUAGE. 

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"Okay, will you just hold still?" Harper pleaded as Griffin shifted uncomfortably under the stinging pressure of the alcohol wipe his best friend was holding across the cut on his face. He reluctantly stopped his squirming and winced. "Yes, like that. Good." 

The 16 year old girl continued to clean the open wound. The two best friends sat in silence as Harper continued cleaning the blood from Griffin's face. The chatter and blaring music could be heard from inside, but the soft sound of crickets filled Harper and Griffin's ears. It was a beautiful night. 

"So, are you gonna tell me what happened?" Harper asked, raising an eyebrow, pausing her job. 

"I got in a fight." Griffin stated innocently, avoiding her gaze with a shrug. Harper chuckled humorlessly. 

"Well, I know you got in a fight, genius, but why?" She asked. 

"Mitch is an asshole." Griffin stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Harper laughed. 

"I know he is, but if you got into a fight with every asshole you ever met, I think you'd have more than a couple scratches and a swollen lip." Harper smiled at him as she pressed the cold washcloth to his cracked, puffy lip. "Actually, I think your eye got the worst of it. Here." 

His left eye was black and blue, and so puffy, Griffin could barely see out of it. Harper grabbed the makeshift ice pack and gently pressed it onto the bruised eye. Griffin flinched and took a sharp breath in. 

"Ow." He muttered. 

"Does that hurt?" Harper asked, worried. He glared at her playfully. "Sorry, dumb question. Tilt your head to the left." Griffin moved his head right, thinking Harper meant her left. "Other left." 

Harper laughed and Griffin tilted his head to the left. 

"Good?" Griffin asked as he positioned his head. Harper nodded. 

"You know, everyone's saying you threw the first punch." Harper stated, questioningly. Griffin looked down. 

"They're saying right." Griffin sighed. 

"Since when are you the kinda guy to throw the first punch? Its so unlike you. I've known you for years and I don't think I've ever even seen you get truly mad. Frustrated maybe, but never mad. That's even after I heard you talking to Judge Walker, and you were pretty frustrated that day!" Harper scolded. 

"Mitch is an asshole. He pissed me off." Griffin repeated, frown evident on his face. Harper sighed. 

"This is so not how I expected tonight to go. I mean, the plan was, to just show our faces, say hello, and then bail. And now suddenly, I'm holding a bag of frozen peas to your eye on Bailey's back patio. I mean, how did that even happen?" Harper asked. Griffin smiled, but it faded as he realized that she wasn't joking. She looked.....stern. 

"I don't know." He muttered. 

"But you do know, Griffin! You're just not telling me. Please can we just talk about this?" Harper pleaded. Griffin sighed. 

"I'd prefer it if we didn't." He tried. 

"I don't know why I asked, because that's not an option. Listen, I thought I heard someone say you were defending me. Is that true?" Harper asked, her voice softening. Griffin looked away and refused to make eye contact. 

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