Harper's Hurricane

07 | oblivion

N O T E

so this is where I stopped posting around a year ago. I'm excited to finally finish this story! it's only 10 chapters (very short, I know) but I'm very happy with it and hopefully you guys will be too.

thanks again for checking out my story <3

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07

THE WEEKEND CAME around three days later. Saturday was spent at Catalyst, as it always was — cleaning tables, exchanging quiet jokes with Chase, closing up and heading home.

On Sunday's, though, Catalyst was always closed. Partly because James claimed himself to be a religious man, but mostly because he was just lazy and wanted a day at home to do — well, nothing.

I couldn't blame him. As a matter of fact, I rather empathized with him, often opting to spend my time with a book and the quiet hum of Netflix in the background, instead of seizing every moment, as Chase would've put it.

So when he came knocking on my front door bright and early that morning, I was more annoyed than I was surprised, half afraid he'd wake my sleeping mother in the next room and I'd get yet another earful about how he was a bad influence. But the second I swung open the door and he grinned down at me, all those feelings swept away, instead replaced with the remnants of everything I'd felt when he'd kissed me days earlier.

It was like those few brief seconds had opened up the flood gate and everything I'd been denying myself — all those feelings that had been building up in the few weeks we'd spent together came pouring through.

I smiled at him. He was a spitting image of deja vu from the first time he'd knocked on my door, clothes in his swim trunks and a casual t-shirt thrown on top.

"What are you doing here?" I said, stepping out onto the front porch and shutting the door closed behind me. When he quirked an eyebrow at me, I was quick to clarify why I hadn't invited him in. "My mom doesn't like you, remember?"

Chase folded his arms across his chest. "Maybe if she met me — "

He stopped when I began to laugh, features mirroring offense as he raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you're serious. Right, sorry. But no." With a glance out to his truck parked on the curb, I realized from the faint hum of the engine it was still running in idle. "Going somewhere?"

"We are," he said, features visibly lifting as he seemed to remember the reason why he'd come in the first place. "Go grab your stuff. Hurry!"

I furrowed my eyebrows. Where in the world would Chase want to go? There was hardly anywhere to go, really, and I'd taken him everywhere in Port Haven already. "What? Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise! I found this great spot to have a picnic — shit. Well, that part was supposed to be a surprise." He scratched the back of his head almost sheepishly.

I couldn't lie — it sounded tempting. But then there was the thought of my mom in the back of my head, the constant fear of disappointing her and having her think less of me.

I chewed my bottom lip. "But my mom — "

"Come on, Harper!" He stepped forward, grabbing my hands in front of him pleadingly. "You don't want to go?"

"No, I do, but I just..." my voice trailed off.

"Your mom?" When I nodded, he continued. "It's nothing bad, Harper, I promise. Just a picnic, I swear." He seemed to sense I was one push away because he took another step forward. "Are you going to spend your whole life letting the fear of letting other people down hold you back?"

The words hit a dull silence, but I knew he was right. He always seemed to be right when it came to things like this. So I smiled at him. He was so innocently enthusiastic that I hardly weighed the options in my head — my mom's disapproving lectures or Chase.

I chose him every time.

*

Only a few left turns took us out of Port Haven. We spent half the drive in light conversation — making jokes, talking about our families and his friends back home making fun of the cars that passed us. He was halfway through a story about his twin sister when I began to recognize the scenery around us.

At first, I shoved aside the burrowing panic in my gut. It was purely a coincidence, I told myself. There was no way Chase would've known —

Right?

"Everything alright, Harper?" He seemed to notice my lull in the conversation because he tossed a concerned glance in my direction, one hand on the wheel and the opposite hand brushing against mine to grab my attention.

I nodded, almost too quickly. When I did speak, my voice was quieter than I'd anticipated. "Yeah, of course. Um...where are we going?"

"That's a surprise, remember — "

"No, Chase." I swallowed back a breath, another familiar road sign passing us by. "I'm serious. Where are we going?"

The sudden weight in my voice seemed to catch him off guard. He slowed to a steady speed, the car behind us switching lanes to pass.

"What's wrong? Are you alright?"

"Chase," I repeated, almost pleadingly.

"It's a small cove a few miles off. Shandlers, or Handlers Cove, or something like that — "

I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest. He couldn't have known. How could he have known? It was just some diabolical coincidence, nothing to get worked up over, I told myself. There was no way he could've known. There was no —

"Fuck, Harper — what did I do?"

I hadn't even realized we'd pulled over until he'd grabbed my hands, dragging my attention towards him. I couldn't tell if his expression was of panic or concern — a mix of both, maybe. It hardly mattered, anyway, because I could hardly focus on anything but my sudden erratic heartbeat, uneven breaths and numbing legs.

Some small, still reasonable portion of me registered Chase's voice in the background telling me to breathe. Just breathe, Harper, in and out.

In and out, I told myself.

There was no reason to freak out. I had to go back there eventually. I had to face my ghosts. Deep down, I knew that. My mom knew that. But Chase?

I shut my eyes and dragged in another breath, slowly this time. When I finally released it, I opened my eyes with a fresh sense of clarity.

There was no way Chase could've known that my dad had died in the place he'd wanted to picnic.