Catch or Fall

Chapter Eight

Harper

God, help me. My life has taken a major turn.

One, Ashton Price sent me his shirtless selfies and they're still saved on my phone's gallery.

Two, Ashton Price held my hand while convincing me to tell him my story and I just stood there like a freaking statue.

Three, I also should be editing articles now but my dumb brain can't stop thinking about Ashton and his stupid smirk. What the fuck, Harper?

And did I mention about his shirtless pics? Goddamn those shirtless pics are going to be the death of me. And how about his open invitation to see him fully naked? Ugh. Trying to get Ashton and his muscles off my mind is a hopeless case.

I stare at myself in the mirror, frustrated at how a guy can easily get to me. And he's not just a guy. He's Ashton Price and he's hot and looks good in bed. Damn it, he's probably not just good, but great in bed. Wait, what the heck? I swore off dating for heaven's sake, and this is how I plan to ruin everything? Ashton's intentions are not even clear yet. He has stopped bugging me about his paper, but it's still weird that he's suddenly acting nice. If it's not about the paper, then what is it? It can't be something that just happened because with the rich, there is always a catch. I have to find the answers out soon, but first, I have to edit these articles or I'll get fired on my first day.

Mrs. Williams sends me an email while I'm still working on the last article. Oh no, maybe she finds me too slow for this editing job. My brain is already forming a perfect excuse for my lack of work ethic when the words TOPIC FOR BLOG flash before me.

Hi Harper,

I need you to make a blog post about dealing with social status in schools.

It's one of the issues students face when they go to high school or college.

Some teenagers and young adults find "fitting in" difficult. So I want you

to address this issue by sharing your experience or a friend's experience.

From there, you come up with tips and lessons.

Since the blog is still new and we're still promoting it, we thought it's best

to have you write a topic close to home and we hope we can gain readers

from there. Sounds fun?

And have you thought about your pen name?

Sincerely,

Mrs. Williams

Mrs. Williams is right. The topic she suggested rings close to home. If there's one person who knows about fitting in and making the world revolve around her, that's me. Back in high school, friends were nothing but decorations to me. I was in a clique with nine other girls. Even with no shared interests, we hung out because we wanted to be cool. We wanted the power it gave us. So when they say you only have to be yourself to fit in, that's bullshit. Fitting in is not an issue if you have the money and the influence. I've also learned that losing friends is easier once you have nothing to offer them. Those who stay despite everything, they are the real ones.

You're lucky if you find the real one.

I settle for cup noodles for dinner since Kat and Judy are out for tonight. Judy is staying at her flavor-of-the-month's apartment, while Kat is with her half-Russian, half-American cousin, who is in Mulberry Hill for a few days. Though I love my friends, having this place by myself is something I look forward to. I can down all the spicy ramen and watch Skins UK, my ultimate guilty pleasure, without anyone judging me.

My friends never understood my love for Skins. They think the storyline is unoriginal and all the characters are annoying. They're wrong though. All the characters are relatable, well except for Franky, who happens to be the worst character to ever grace the world of television.

I'm busy browsing Youtube for Skins episodes when my phone starts bellowing Lady Gaga's Bad Romance. I grab it and find my sister's name flashing on the screen.

"Hey Christie," I answer, failing to hide the surprise in my voice. My sister never calls unless there's emergency. Oh fuck. Now the surprise is replaced by dread.

"Why didn't you tell me dad is cheating our mom with a fucking intern?" She screams. Shit. There's no way to deny this now. But how did she find out?

"Christie, how did you..."

"You know, didn't you? And you didn't even think of telling me! Guess what? I saw them. I freaking saw them with my own two eyes and I'm fucking disgusted!"

I actually thought there's no way for me to despise my dad more, but boy, I was wrong. Hearing Christie cry about how she caught dad and his mistress having sex in his study is enough to make me sick. But knowing mom was also at home when they're doing it makes me want to rip his head off.

"Is this why you ran away? Is this why you left me here?" Christie's accusing tone grates me. I didn't leave her. I was off to college and was set up for Easton when dad's affair blew up in my face. And I didn't tell her about it because she's still young to deal with all his dirt.

"I didn't leave you on purpose, Christie. You know that."

"But it feels like it. You're away from here while I get to suffer every minute in this house."

"God, Chris. It's not like—" I try to contradict her but she cuts me.

"You didn't even tell me about the affair," She chokes back her tears. "I thought we're only dealing with mom's cancer, and I was like 'yeah, I can handle this.' But it turns out there's something worse, with dad having an affair without giving a rat's ass about how mom feels. Screw you for leaving me alone to deal with this!"

I know it's not easy to accept. Heck, I haven't accepted it myself. Like Christie, I caught dad with that bitch and it's like a punch straight to my gut. I can't look at him without feeling all the hate and the pain. I can't look at mom and not feel my heart breaking into pieces. Maybe it's selfish not to tell Christie about dad's infidelity but it's for her sake.

"Christie, you know I was off to college," I say, sounding angrier than intended. "Do you think I have a choice?"

"You had the choice to stay but you still left me. How's that, sis?" She says before she cuts the line.

Aaaarrgghhh!!!!

First off, I left because going to college is my top priority even with all the shitty things back home. My dad's affair can't stop me from applying to Harvard Law, which has been my dream since I was fifteen Yes, a part of me is happy that I'm not home, that I'm away from dad and that filthy woman. But it's never my intention to leave Christie. God, only if she knows how much I want to take her with me. But she's still in junior high and my savings are not enough to support her studies. Heck, I also have to support myself.

Opening up about family problems isn't my thing, but I badly need a shoulder to cry on right now. I take back what I said about wanting the dorm for myself. Without Judy or Kat, no one is going to listen to my rants about my bastard dad or about my awful life. But I am not a selfish friend who's going to ruin their perfect evening for this.

While contemplating whether to call my friends or not, Ashton Price comes to mind. He wants to know my story, right? That's what he told me earlier.

And maybe it's my dire need for someone that pushed me to the brink because here I am, dialing Ashton's number. He answers on the second ring.

"Ha—Harper?" His voice wavers, like he doesn't believe what's happening. When I answer with a sob, his hesitation turns to worry. "Hey, baby. What happened?"

It takes me about a minute to respond. "Sorry, I—I'm such a mess. Di—Did I...I disturb you or something?"

"No, honey. You didn't," he whispers. I hear footsteps and the sound of keys jiggling before he asks again. "What happened? Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Dorm," I answer, sounding weak after all the crying. Before tonight, I had no idea crying could be exhausting. "I know it's late, but I just need to talk to someone and—"

"That's why you called me. Don't worry, babe. I'll be over in ten."