Enchanted | Jacob Black

eight

I wasn't sure what time it was when my dad knocked on my door.

"Harper?"

I sat up quickly, wiping my face despite knowing it was pointless. "Yeah?" I called out, voice barely there.

"Can I come in?"

"No," I stated.

I had been lying in the dark since speaking to Jake. Some part of me had wished he'd followed me or at least checked in with me by now. But he hadn't. At this point, it shouldn't surprise me.

"Too bad, I'm coming in anyway."

I sat up as he stepped inside and closed the door gently behind him. His eyes found me, sitting on the bed with red cheeks and puffy eyes, and his whole face softened. He didn't say anything at first. He sat down next to me, not asking questions or prying—just there.

"Rough night?" he finally asked, voice quiet.

I nodded, pulling my knees to my chest.

"Was it that Nate kid? Did he do something?" His voice sounded stern, "You let me know, and I'll knock-"

"He didn't," I said quickly, cutting him off. "Nate didn't do anything."

Dad nodded slowly, his brow furrowing. "Okay. So if it's not him, then..."

I hesitated, chewing the inside of my cheek before answering. "It's Jake."

He blinked. "Jake? Jacob Black? Did he do something? Say something?"

I stayed quiet, not wanting to tell him the entire truth of what was happening between us.

"Did he say you have big feet again? Because that's not true; your feet are very average, honey."

I couldn't help but smile, remembering when we were kids, and Jake teased me.

"No, it's just... He's changed, and honestly, many things have changed between us, and I don't know... It's a lot."

"Hm, that's not surprising. Especially after his growth spurt, that kid is massive."

He paused, then continued, "And not just him. Have you seen Old Quil's grandson? That kid was as skinny as a twig, and now look at him." He silently chuckled to himself. "I wonder what's in the water around here."

His laugh faded, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Did you two have a fight or something?"

"Not exactly," I said, picking at the edge of my sleeve.

He nodded, still assuming. "Friendships change, especially at your age. People grow in different directions, and sometimes it's hard to hold on to what you had."

I hesitated, biting the inside of my cheek. "It's not just that."

Dad looked over at me again. "No?"

I let out a quiet groan and buried my face in my hands. "Ugh, this is so embarrassing."

My dad's brow furrowed, and his voice softened. "Hey, hey," he said gently. "You don't ever have to feel embarrassed with me, okay? You can talk to me about anything."

I shook my head, slowly. "It's more than just a friendship thing."

There was a second of silence as he studied my face. His eyebrows drew together, puzzled, then raised slightly as the realization hit him.

"Oh." He blinked. "You mean you... like him? Like him like him?"

My face flushed, but I nodded.