The Road Home

Chapter 4

"Hey, it's here." She had heard Mel come in but her heavy thoughts kept her tied to the kitchen chair. Not that it was comfortable by any means. Harper barely looked Mel's way. Trying to keep her mind clear of memories took a constant effort. "What's here?"

"Your new car, but guess who else is here?" Mel tossed the keys on the table.

Harper shrugged, staring into her nearly empty coffee cup. She had dreamed she was in Nashville the night before and was considering going for a few days. It might be nice to get away for a day or two.

"The leeches." Mel had come up with the term for the photographers, whose sole purpose was to follow Harper around the globe, years ago when they had first started stalking the star. "They aren't getting through security, thank goodness."

"What'd you get?" Harper picked up the keys and ignored the 'leeches' reference. Just holding the shiny new keys in her hand gave her a sense of freedom.

"It's a silver SL600 Roadster." Mel read from the yellow papers that had come with the car. "It's yours for as long as you're here. Don't crash it."

She peeked through the blinds at the car and wondered how quick she could get ready and be on the road. Maybe she would drive to Nashville.

~

Harper watched the clock all night and turned her alarm off right before six fifteen. She had thought more than once about taking something to help her sleep, but didn't want to miss her meeting or class or whatever she was supposed to call this thing. She had also tried to write a song last night, but it was pointless. Like trying to catch butterflies, the words would flutter by but before she could catch them on paper, they'd be gone.

It was in the shower that a few lyrics to a new song came to her; a song about heartache. A song about what she wished she could have said to her mom or Rick or whoever. She hummed it to herself then started putting the words together. She hopped out of the shower, dressed, and then grabbed her guitar. Before she knew it, she had written her first song in over a month but wondered if she would ever be able to get through it without crying. Probably not. She was jotting down the chorus when she glanced at the time. It was seven. Shit.

She was already late for her first session. After walking the short distance to the main building, she opened the conference room door and saw the professor at a table near the front of the large room.

He didn't even look up from his laptop. "You're late."

"Sorry." And she was. She could hear the annoyance in his voice and was aggravated at herself for losing track of time. She was usually much more professional. Maybe this movie wasn't a good idea. Not now, yet she didn't want any time off. She sighed at her own confusion.

Harper came to the chair across from the professor who had resumed typing.

"Sit here." He pulled the chair next to him away from the table. "Where's your script?"

She thought for a second but couldn't remember seeing it since the meeting. She cringed. Could this get any worse?

Grabbing one from his laptop bag, he waited for her to walk around the table and sit down before he handed it to her. He sighed in frustration.

"Turn to page sixteen and bring yours Friday."

Harper turned to the page that had her first line while he moved his laptop to the table and scooted closer. He placed his finger under one of the words on the page, spoke in another language then stopped and waited. He turned his head in her direction with a look of disapproval she couldn't miss.