Hope «h.s.»

Nineteen.

Chapter 19:

Harrys point of view:

I felt like the biggest asshole out there. Why couldn't I get the urge to speak to Piper? I let her just walk out of the car.

And now as she walked through the door, I couldn't find the motivation to move the car backward and out of the driveway.

She looked so perfect tonight, almost too perfect, like she was out place. I had not recognized 'hot' as being her style before, but she definitely pulled it off tonight. Hell, she even looked amazing with what she had on when I drove her to Lexie's house.

But I was too much of an asshole to say it to her face at the party, or to say anything for that matter, until I saw her dancing with Ben. I was hoping to play it off as being preoccupied with Lexie, but who was I kidding? Ben made me furious and then that punk, Scottie, almost tried to snatch her too.

What was I saying? I still had no clue about my feelings toward her. Did I even have feelings for her? Was I getting that soft? I couldn't develop feelings for a girl, especially Piper.

Piper knew us as friends.

She was smart, kind and hot, no doubt, but that wasn't what I was used to. I was used to girls like Lexie, Mandy, and Rebecca: ditzy, outgoing, flirty, practically falling over me. Girls that were okay with a one night stand or two. Plus, Pipers dad was dangerous. With his drug dealing business, I did not want anything to do with that. I was done after my first meeting at his house.

So why was I being so drawn to her?

For the ride back home, I tried to get Piper Armstrong out of my head.

•

Pipers point of view:

As I walked away from Harry's fancy car, I noticed the whole house looked shut down. The windows were shut and the curtains were drawn. The car was still in the driveway which was much of a surprise. Dad hadn't gone out this Saturday night. At least Rene was not all by herself.

I was thankful for not having to sneak in through my window. It was not even opened, because heaven forbid that my father puts the heat on. I couldn't risk all the cool end-of-winter chill getting into my room or Rene's. I tried to quietly unlock the door, not wanting to wake anyone up with my loudness.

My face dropped when I saw that our dinosaur of a television was running and the front room lights were on. The volume was low, it was hard to tell if sound was even coming out. And most importantly, my father sat, perched and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. And I, I was petrified as I stood there like a deer caught in headlights. There was no way I was getting out of this.

He slowly reached for a beer bottle on the coffee table in front of the couch and carefully took a swig of the bitter alcohol sitting inside it.

"Want some?" He asked, extending the arm with the bottle in it towards me.

I crossed my arms and shook my head.

"Oh, c'mon Pipes," he said grinning, "I know you know what it tastes like."

My eyes go wide at his statement. What does he mean?