Becoming Harper Page 2

  Gunner took a deep, dramatic breath before opening the door of the pet shop and waving Quinn and I in with a flourish. A golden bell jingled noisily above our heads. The shop was empty of customers. Mr. Hawthorne was busy with something at the register. “Morning, kids. Clock in and check the chart.”

  He said the same thing every day as if we didn’t know what to do. “Sure, Mr. H,” we called as we headed back to the staff room.

  Mr. Hawthorn was a giant of a man, standing at 6”6 and built quite sturdy. He had a shiny, bald head and a bushy black beard that Quinn and I always tried to convince him to shave off but he refused.

  Hawthorn’s Pets sat on the corner end of a strip of shops. The small shop was a little cramped and tight on space. When you first walked in there was the register and racked with various things like leashes and pet toys. The walls were lined with glass animal cases, starting with the puppies, then the kittens, the snakes and the lizards, and then a small aviary section for the birds. The mice, hamsters, and gerbils sat in small cages at the center of the store. Pet food and supplies were sporadically placed throughout. Lots of things hung from the ceiling which were a pain to get down when someone needed something.

  After I locked my purse in my assigned locker, I clocked in and checked the task chart. I couldn’t help but smile. I had reptile and rodent duty. Although there was some interest in them, they weren’t nearly as popular as the cats and dogs. Gunner had the privilege of entertaining the hordes of excited children. He groaned as he read the chart over my shoulder. “I love the puppies, but not on Saturdays.”

  Quinn had the fish and the birds. The fish were pretty big too with the kids, especially the clownfish, but they were easy. She pouted. “Those damn loud ass birds. Abby, want to trade?”

  “No, thanks. I had the cats and dogs last Saturday. I deserve a break.”

  We grabbed blue aprons from where they hung on hooks and tied them around our bodies before heading out to the floor. The first thing I had to do was feed the reptiles. Depending on what they were, they ate anything from dead mice to small bugs and insects. When I’d first started working at the shop, I’d almost quit because it was utterly disgusting, but I’d gotten used to it. Still, it was weird having to feed a dead mouse to a snake and then turn around and feed a mouse. I guess you could call it the circle of life.

  The day went by quickly. There was one boy who looked around ten or eleven who asked to hold a snake. I chose Nickles, a black and white corn snake who was pretty tame. I pointed his head away from the boy and anyone else and the boy could hold his body and stroke him gently.

  Martinez had came in around noon. He was maybe a little younger than Mr. Hawthorn, but they looked around the same age to me. He was short and round with tan skin and dark hair. He’d worked for Mr. Hawthorn for almost ten years and he swore he knew everything there was to no about every pet shop in America. He probably did, but I didn’t think it was fair for Mr. Hawthorn to award Martinez with the Employee of the Month award every single month. All that got him was a five-dollar gift card to the Donut Den, but still, why should we be punished for having lives outside of Hawthorn’s Pets. Anyway, unlike Hawthorn, Martinez couldn’t stand us. He called us slackers and always complained about having to do extra work because of us. He didn’t seem to understand we weren’t planning to work in that pet shop until Hawthorn retired like he was.

  We had a steady crowd of customers and then things died down for a bit. Hawthorn sent Gunner and I on our fifteen-minute break.

  I pulled a granola bar from my pocket and settled down at the tiny table in the center of the staff room. Gunner flipped through his phone. “Since you’re his favorite, I think you should be the one to ask him if we can get off an hour early.”

  “I’m not his favorite. Mr. Hawthorne doesn’t have favorites. The three of us annoy him equally.”

  Gunner scowled. “Not true. I annoy him more than either of you and you know it, so I can’t ask him.” That was the truth. “Come on, I’ve been good and working really hard today.” That was also true. I had to admit that Gunner was doing a great job dealing with families who had only come in for a look-see which wasted or time and did nothing for our commission.

  “Fine, I’ll go ask him.” With two minutes left of my break, I made my way to the front of the shop. Mr. Hawthorn was just wrapping up with a customer, a man who was buying three goldfish for his four-year-old daughter’s birthday. It would be her first experience being a pet owner and I wanted to tell him it was a horrible idea. Those fish would be dead by the following Friday and his little girl would be devastated.

  The bell jingled as the man made his exit. I leaned on the counter and gave Mr. Hawthorn the biggest smile I could manage. He was always in a good mood after a sale so things were already working in my favor. “Hey, Mr. H. How’s it going today?”

  He wrote something down on his ledger and didn’t even look up. “What do you want, Abby?”

  Mr. Hawthorn could smell phoniness a mile away, so it was best to just get to the point and tell him what I wanted. “Well, Quinn and Gunner and I were wondering that since in the evening it kind of slows down here and families goes to dinner or the movies and Martinez is here—”

  “Spit it out, Abby. Isn’t your break over?”

  I had less than a minute left. “We were wondering if the three of us could get off an hour earlier. Since it’s the last night of the carnival and it’s a senior thing. All the seniors are going tonight. It’s tradition. Now, I know this may not seem very important to you, but it’s one of the last things we’re going to get to do together before we all go our separate ways next year.” That was the truth and my heart hurt a little just saying it. Next year this time Gunner would be going to design school in New York and Quinn would be at UCLA. I would be at whichever school would give me a full-ride scholarship or the local community college.

  He blinked at me and pressed his lips together. Mr. Hawthorn could be tough, but he was usually reasonable. Sometimes he could be a softie despite his intimidating appearance. “Fine, just this once. I suppose Martinez and I could hold down the fort.” Martinez grunted from somewhere nearby but I was fairly certain he had no plans for the evening, so I didn’t know why he would care. Quinn often joked about how he spent his free time poring over the shop’s website and memorizing everything he could about the different animals and products we kept. “That weirdo can tell your everything from the manufacturer to the sku number of the top of his head,” she would say. The sku part was an exaggeration, but not the rest.

  I bounced on my tip-toes. “Thank you so much!” I would have given him a hug if he were that type of person, but he wasn’t.

  I didn’t have to tell Quinn and Gunner the news because they were eavesdropping nearby. At six on the dot, the three of us tore out of the pet shop and raced toward our separate homes.

  “We’ll meet at the front gate as seven sharp!” Gunner called over his shoulder. “I mean seven, girls.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Quinn said but I couldn’t blame Gunner. He was always on time and waiting for us. Quinn turned to me. “Don’t forget to send me a pic once you’re dressed.”

  “I won’t.” That was our thing. Quinn was way more fashionable than me so before I left the house I would send her a pic and she would make suggestions on what I should fix. There was always something.

  When I got home, I found my little sister Brooke stretched across the living room couch watching Stranger Things once again. Since Netflix was cheaper than cable, we had that and basic television. Her copper hair was twisted in a long side braid which was my favorite style on her. She sat up, her blue eyes blinking excitedly. “Hey, Abby. You’re home early. Thank goodness. I’m so bored.”

  My stomach churned with guilt. Brooke was only twelve and my mother’s number one rule was that while she and I were out, Brooke had to stay home, and she wasn’t allowed to have friends over. That meant she spend most of her time alone in our cramped apartment. On Satur
day nights when Gunner and Quinn had dates, I would spend the night hanging out with Brooke. We watched bad movies and made fun of how stupid they were while doing our hair and nails and eating my special popcorn, chocolate chip, and peanut butter concoction.

  She looked so happy to see me, I hated to tell her that I would be changing and leaving the house in about half an hour.

  “Hey, Brooke. I can’t hang out tonight. Remember, I’m going to the carnival.”

  She looked disappointed for a second, then her face brightened up. “Oh, yeah! I forgot about that. What are you going to wear? Can I help you get dressed? Can I curl your hair?” She loved to live vicariously through me, although I didn’t do much of anything what was exciting.

  I grinned. “Sure.” Truth be told, my little sister was better at hair and makeup than me. While I hopped in the shower for a strictly-timed five minutes, Brooke got everything ready for me.

  For the sake of time, I applied my makeup sitting in a chair in front of the bathroom mirror, while Brooke put spiral curls in my long, wheat-colored tresses. “I wish I could go.”

  I felt sorry for my sister. She was only seven when Dad left and she’d taken it the hardest probably because Mom and I had seen it coming. Brooke was so little then that to her, Dad was still a prince who could do no wrong. She hadn’t understood that he was never coming back and would pitch a fit when mother and I would tell her the truth. I think she’d finally started to face facts that we didn’t have a father anymore around her eleventh birthday.

  I almost offered to let her come but Gunner and Quinn would kill me. Brooke wasn’t that typical annoying little sister and my friends loved her, but still. No other seniors would be there with their younger siblings. Besides, there was always a seniors-only afterparty once the carnival closed. It was tradition and we were hoping to get invited. There was no way I could take Brooke to one of those. “But I know I can’t,” Brooke added quickly. “It’s your night.”

  “We’ll do something really, really fun next weekend. I promise.” I had no idea what we could do that I could afford, but I would think of something. Mom wouldn’t be home until around midnight, which meant Brooke would have spent the entire day alone.

  She stole glances of herself in the mirror as she added the finishing touches to my hair. “I can’t wait until I’m in high school.” I didn’t want to think about that. Brooke was already growing too fast for my taste.

  Brooke reached for the hairspray. “So, are you going to make your big move tonight?”

  I let her question linger while I contemplated which eye-shadow to use. Quinn would know which was best but decided not to bother her while she was getting ready. I choose a dark purple. That seemed right.

  “Well?” Brooke asked impatiently.

  “What do you mean am I going to make my move?”

  “You know, Tucker. This is your senior year and if you want him, you need to make a move now so you guys could do all the senior stuff together like homecoming, the ski trip, the winter formal. You can’t wait until the end of the year when you guys are getting ready to go away to school. What would be the point of that?”

  She was right. Even though I still had a mad crush on Tucker, the second he started dating Harper, I had given up on him. Who could compete with her? Tucker wasn’t just dating her. He madly in love in her. He followed her everywhere she went. A week didn’t go by when he didn’t surprise her with a beautiful bouquet of flowers or heart-shaped balloons just because. Every Tuesday and Friday he brought her a raspberry scone and a cappuccino from Coffee and Blooms. He’d even engraved her name on his favorite baseball bat for good luck. If anyone ended that relationship it would be Harper. Even though my chances with him had gone from being non-existent to undeniably, unattainably impossible, that didn’t stop my heart from doing flip-flops every time he crossed my path.

  Brooke was my best friend and I probably told her a lot more than I should about my life, but she understood and usually gave me great advice. I wondered how my little sister got to be so savvy. She surely hadn’t gotten it from me. “I’m over Tucker,” I lied. “He’s dating Harper Granger so it’s a wrap on that.”

  Thanks to me, Brooke knew everything there was to know about Harper. She took the curler away from my hair and gathered my tresses into a ponytail so I could get a better look at my face. “Harper is hot, but you know you’re beautiful too, right?”

  I forced a smile and nodded. She was being such a big sister instead of it being the other way around. I knew I wasn’t ugly and probably downplayed my looks because I was always comparing them to Harper’s, but I didn’t know how to stop doing it.

  Brooke let go of my hair and then ran her fingers over her long braid. “Do you think I’ll be popular when I get to high school? Poor kids can’t be popular can they.”

  I stood and placed my hands on my sister’s shoulders. “Brooke, we are not poor. We might struggle a little bit financially, but we have everything we need. Don’t say that again and definitely don’t let Mom hear you saying it.” Mom did everything she could to conceal or money problems from everyone, especially our family.

  Brooke’s face fell a little and I felt bad for scolding her. “Listen, you’re beautiful and smart and nice and so much fun. You’re going to do great in high school. You’ll have plenty of friends. The last thing you need to worry about is being popular. Just be Brooke.”

  Brooke nodded, probably thinking I should take my own advice. She took my seat in front of the mirror and started to experiment with my lip gloss. I hurried to complete my look and sent a selfie to Quinn.

  Your hair is amazing, she texted back.

  Thanks. Brooke did it.

  Brookie is amazing!

  Hellz yeah she is

  Quinn was the only person Brooke would allow to call her Brookie.

  I slid into mom’s patch-covered leather jacket and threw my small, crossbody purse over my shoulder. I made sure I had my cash, my phone, a brush, lip gloss, and a mirror. “Well, I’m off. Wish me luck.” I didn’t know what I needed luck for, but it sounded like the right thing to say.

  Brooke hugged me tight. “Bring me back cotton candy, please.”

  “Sure.” It was the least I could do after making her spend the night alone.

  Brooke stood in the doorway watching me as I made my way to the staircase. “Abby, you’re everything. You know that, right? Everything.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded. If only I had believed her at the time.

  3

  I was five minutes late meeting my friends at the gate. I didn’t feel bad when I realized we still had to wait for Felix.

  “I love,” Gunner said as I approached. “Very 80’s chic. Can I take a pic?”

  “Sure.” I hit my best super model pose and he snapped a few shots. Gunner had a fashion blog. He posted pics of the fashionable Quinn on it often, but rarely any of me so this was an honor. Quinn looked hot in a denim mini with her white Converses. She’s chosen to wear a mid-riff, showing off her perfectly toned abs with her boyfriend’s letterman jacket over it—too much skin for my taste but it worked for her. Quinn dated a guy named Josh who went to another school. He couldn’t come to the carnival with us because his team had a football game that night. While Quinn looked amazing, I hoped she wouldn’t freeze as the night went on.

  Since it was the last night of the carnival, it was the busiest as we expected. Crowds of people milled in and out of the blinking entry gates. I recognized tons of people from school, teachers and students and lots of exhausted families with younger children who were leaving after spending the day.

  Gunner huffed and looked down at his phone. “I’m sorry, guys, but he’ll be here any second—or at least he’d better be,” he said, raising his voice slightly as if Felix were close enough to hear him. Quinn and I exchanged looks, probably thinking the same thing. We wanted to have a fun night and we were hoping it wasn’t one of the times Gunner and Felix spent the whole time arguing. I really didn’t se
e why they stayed together. They fought more than they didn’t fight, but any time we mentioned that to Gunner, he’d fly off the handle.

  Seven minutes later Felix sauntered up in the same skinny jeans Gunner was wearing with rips at the knees and a tight maroon sweater with a matching knit cap. If I could say anything about Felix is was that he had a physique that would make most guys secretly jealous and his eye-liner game was on point. He could teach me a few things. Other than that, I didn’t like him. The guy thrived off drama. He was like a walking reality show. If there was a mess going on in his life, he managed to create one.

  Some locks of wispy dark hair poked out from under his cap. “Sorry, I’m late. My dad was giving me a hard time.”

  I took a deep breath hoping that Gunner would just accept his apology so we could go inside. He gave Gunner a quick peck on the mouth and then took his hand. Whew.

  I had eight-five dollars burning a hole in my purse. I’d been saving it for weeks. Between admission, food, games, and souvenirs, the carnival could get pretty expensive. Since this would be our last year, I definitely wanted a memento to remember it. Maybe a baseball cap or a pennant with our graduating class and school name. Also candied apples, funnel cakes, curly fries, and gyros added up quick.

  Admission into the carnival was ten dollars which left me with seventy-five bucks.

  Quinn looped her arm around mine as we entered the lighted gates. The multi-colored lights reminded me of Christmas. Almost immediately, the smells of the carnival hit my nostrils. It was the perfect combination of salty and sweet. The aromas of fried Oreos, buttery popcorn, and all-beef hot dogs made my mouth water, but rules were rules. We had to ride the Triple Loop roller coaster first, and then we would pig out. No one wanted to spend our last time at the carnival puking over a garbage can.