Becoming Harper Read online

  We walked toward the Ferris wheel where we had agreed to meet Gunner and Felix. My phone chirped. It was a text from Brooke:

  Having fun? Is Tucker there? Don’t puke! Don’t forget my cotton candy!

  I smiled, picturing her watching TV all alone and warming up a TV dinner.

  Don’t plan on puking. I’ll tell you everything when I get home.

  Quinn looked up into the star-filled night sky. “This would be the perfect time for a funnel cake, don’t you think?”

  Shit. What had I been thinking giving that woman all my money? That meant I couldn’t buy anything else for the entire night. “Uh, you mind spotting me? I’ll pay you back when we get paid on Friday.”

  Quinn frowned, looking down at my empty hands. “What happened to your money?”

  I couldn’t tell her I’d stupidly given all my cash to the fortune teller for her to cast a spell for me, but I had to tell her something. I pulled the silver box from my purse. “I spent it on this.” I held it up for her to see.

  Quinn took it from me. “Pretty. What is it?”

  “A box for earrings. I bought it for my grandmother’s birthday. She loves stuff like this.”

  Quinn handed the box back and put her arm around me. “Aw, aren’t you sweet? Don’t worry. I got you bestie.” She bought us funnel cakes and headed off to find the guys. Instead of finding Felix and Gunner, we found a pissed-off Gunner standing with his hands shoved in his pocket.

  Quinn groaned. “Oh no. I know that look.”

  I held out my funnel cake. “Gun, you okay?”

  He ripped off a piece. Powdered sugar landed on his jeans, but he didn’t bother brushing it away. “Where’s Felix?” I asked.

  “I don’t care where that son of a bitch is. I just know I never want to see him again and I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Quinn and I exchanged looks. It didn’t matter. Whatever had gone on between them, they would be back together the next day. I was secretly happy that Gunner would be hanging out with us instead of Felix. This was supposed to be our night. We finished our funnel cakes and rode all the rides our stomachs could handle.

  The night flew by and before we knew it the lights were slowly turning off and people were making their ways toward the exit. Quinn and I shared a carton of curly fries while Gunner walked behind us moping. A girl in our class named Clair Donahue skipped past us with her group of giggling friends. She was a nice girl who sometimes hung out with Harper. “Hey guys,” she called as she passed. “After party in my basement. It’s huge and my parents don’t care.”

  Quinn and I nodded, totally keeping our cool but as soon as Clair and her friends were out of sight, we jumped up and down almost dropping our curly fries. “Abby, we totally just got invited to the after party.” I looked over my shoulder at Gunner who made circles in the air with his finger, as if to say whoop-de-doo. Someone was not impressed at all.

  It was almost midnight and I had a one o’clock curfew but I was hoping my mom would make an exception that night since I rarely went out. She was still at work, so I texted her that I might be late and put my phone away.

  “How are we going to get there?” Quinn asked.

  Good question. I deflated just a little. Our homes were in walking distance, but Clair lived clear on the other side of town. I knew that because I’d gone to her house for a Girl Scout meeting when we were in grade school and she hadn’t moved since then.

  Gunner pulled out his phone. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  He got a kid named Jeremy Lanch who played on the basketball team to give us a ride. Jeremy drove a Land Rover with plenty of room, but since he already had three friends riding with him, we had to double up. I had to sit on the lap of some kid I didn’t even know and if we got pulled over we were all screwed.

  Fortunately, we got to Clair’s house without drawing and police attention. The party was already buzzing. Cars lined the street and people were making a bee line for the side of Clair’s house. Clair lived in a huge three-story house made of tan brick and dark wood. I guessed it would be considered ranch style. It reminded me of those houses where people rented rooms to get away. The windows that surrounded the house were mostly dark, but the downstairs lights were on. We could hear the sounds of a Rihanna bop from where we stood. I wondered how long it would be before the neighbors complained.

  “Un-freaking-believable!” Gunner said through clenched teeth. I followed his gaze. Felix was walking toward the side of the house with a couple of other guys. “I’ll see you guys inside,” he said before storming behind Felix.

  What a way to ruin the high of being invited to the senior after party. I turned to Quinn and squealed. “We made it. How do I look?”

  “Retouch your gloss and you will be perfect.”

  We both did that and double-checked our makeup before heading inside.

  We entered the sliding glass doors on the side of the house which led to a staircase which led to the basement. Clair’s had the most pimped-out basement and I thought it was an injustice to call it a basement. I remembered what the fortune teller had said about envy, but I couldn’t help but realize that Clair’s basement alone was better than my whole apartment. The walls were wood-paneled and full of colorful funky art pieces. Someone claimed the walls were soundproof but that was a lie because we could clearly hear the music from outside. Brown leather couches lined one wall. A pool table, a hockey table, and a ping pong table occupied the center space. Several electronic dart boards were posted on another wall. Loud, rowdy boys had taken over all these, while the girls hung around either talking or dancing.

  In the corner stood a fridge full with sodas and sparkling flavored waters. But from the looks of the coolers some of the guys were dragging in, the alcohol was coming.

  Gunner handed Quinn and I wine coolers and made ourselves comfortable on one of the couches. Neither of us bothered to ask him what happened with Felix. The fact that Felix was posted in a corner having a deep, close conversation with another guy, it hadn’t gone well.

  I took a sip of the wine cooler and winced. I’d never liked the taste of alcohol, but the peach wine cooler I had was sweet. The more I drank, the more I got used to the taste. The party was pretty chill, but after a while there was an uproar. I looked up from my phone to see why. Harper and her crew were coming down the steps of the basement. Harper was first, then Tucker, and then everyone else.

  Mason Collins, who was Tucker’s best friend and in charge of the music turned it down. “The queen has arrived. Now we can really get this party started.”

  And just like that, everyone crowded around Harper and her friends and the party was kicked up ten notches. Maybe that was what it felt like to be a celebrity. I thought about the silver box in my purse. What if the fortune teller was telling the truth? All I had to do was place Harper’s picture in the box, sleep with it under my pillow, believe, and then that would totally be my life. I would become Harper and Harper would be me. The world of Everson High would revolve around me and everything I said. I would have no problems and everything I ever wanted.

  Within a matter of seconds the group had been handed something in red Solo cups. Mason put on Lil’ Jon’s Turn Down for What. Harper held Tucker’s hand over her head and led him to an open area of the basement where the two of them started to dance, which prompted more people to join in. I watched Harper as she wiggled her hips from side to side and wound her body around sexily. She looked like a pro who danced like that all the time. I wondered if she practiced in the mirror. Tucker didn’t move much, he’d never been much of a dancer, but he watched her, completely mesmerized.

  “Want to dance?” Quinn asked.

  Now that there were more people on the small dance floor, I didn’t mind. “Sure, why not?”

  My dancing skills weren’t the best. I didn’t dare try to move like Harper, but I did okay. Mason played some Taylor Swift and I notice Aria wedge herself between Harper and Tucker. She looked like she was crying. Her hand
s were all over the place as she said something to Harper and pointed up the basement stairs. Whatever was going on, she was pissed about it. Aria pulled a reluctant Harper away from Tucker who looked more than annoyed. Harper shrugged and the two of them disappeared up the basement steps. What was that about?

  Finally Gunner snapped out of his Felix Funk, and the three of us managed to have a great drama-free time. By the time we left the party, I felt great. I couldn’t even imagine how amazing I’d feel if I were Harper. I hoped for once in my life that magic was real.

  5

  It was almost 3 AM when I got home. Mom and Brooke were fast asleep. Before I went to bed I did what the woman told me. I cut Harper’s picture out of the previous year’s yearbook. Half her hair had been pulled up into a messy bun, and the other half cascaded over her shoulders. Her perfect teeth sparkled and her green eyes held so much joy. I stared at the picture for far too long before placing it in the silver box. I slid it underneath my pillow, took all my clothes off except for my tank top and underwear and crawled into bed. Within minutes, I was dead to the world. Needless to say, I woke up on Sunday morning, the same old Abby.

  I spent several minutes staring at my boring white walls that couldn’t be painted or decorated because we were renting. After dragging myself out of bed, I stared at myself in the mirror wanting my sixty-one bucks back, but who knew, maybe it was my fault it hadn’t worked. Maybe I didn’t believe hard enough. There had been plenty of doubt in my mind, so it was possible.

  At 11 AM I made my way to the kitchen to fix myself a bowl of cereal. Mom sat at the kitchen table clipping coupons. Sunday was the only day she didn’t have to work two shifts.

  Her shoulder-length tresses were pulled back into a low ponytail and her trusty pink robe was wrapped tightly around her. I tried not to look at the dark circles under her eyes because they made me sad and reminded me of how tired she always was.

  Although our kitchen didn’t have much space, we always kept everything neat and tidy. Mom insisted on it. The oval-shaped glass kitchen table took up the most space. A few feet away lining the wall was our stove, microwave, and a few cabinets. Sitting cattycorner to that was the fridge which was covered with Brooke’s animal drawings from her art class held up with fruit-shaped magnets.

  I yawned and pulled my favorite bowl from the cabinet. It was a ceramic bowl with a pretty print that my grandmother bought me on her visit to Costa Rica. “What time do you have to go in?”

  “At 2.” She paused to stare at the sales paper’s ad for a coffee maker. “Honey, do you have eighteen bucks I can borrow until Friday? It’s for Brooke’s field trip to the aquarium. If she doesn’t pay by Wednesday, she can’t go.”

  My chest tightened. I didn’t mind loaning my mom money, even when she couldn’t pay me back. I especially didn’t mind when it was for Brooke. I realized I had forgotten her cotton candy, not that I had the money to buy it any way. “I’m sorry, Mom. I wish I had known, but I spent all my money at the carnival last night.” That was the truth at least.

  She didn’t look disappointed even though I never turned her down. “Of course. Bad timing. Don’t worry. I’ll ask your aunt.”

  I knew Mom hated to do that because Aunt Charlotte always rubbed it in her face. She had a husband who made good money and she never had to worry about coming up short. Whenever she had the opportunity, she was quick to remind Mom how she had given her money for this or money for that. Still though, it crushed me to think about Brook being left out of the field trip and having to stay behind with another class because our family couldn’t come up with eighteen bucks. It was pathetic and Brooke deserved better than that. All her friends were probably going. I remembered how I felt back in the ninth grade when we were taking a trip to the space center. It was a whole day trip that lasted from the morning to the late evening and costed almost one hundred bucks. I had to stay behind because we couldn’t afford it and Mom wasn’t willing to ask Aunt Charlotte for more than twenty or thirty bucks at a time. Hearing everyone talk about it made my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I didn’t want that for my sister.

  “Where is Brooke anyway?” She was always up before me.

  “She stayed up until one o’clock in the morning. I found her watching the television like a zombie before I made her go to bed.”

  She had probably been up waiting for me so I could tell her about the carnival.

  “How was last night?” Mom asked. “I tried to stay up too but I was dog tired and I know I don’t have to worry about you, Abby.”

  “It was really great.” I told her about everything but the fortune teller. “The best part was that Quinn, Gunner, and I got invited to the senior invite-only after party and Harper Granger actually spoke to me.”

  Mother’s smile faded and she fiddled with the small stack of coupons she had accumulated. “What?” I asked.

  She touched her forehead. “I don’t like that, Abby. You getting so excited because some girl spoke to you. She’s just a girl and she’s not any better than you are.”

  “Harper Granger is not just a girl.” I wanted to add that she was better than me, but I decided to save myself from a lecture. I already knew what Mom would say and it was so not true. You’re amazing and beautiful and special. There’s no one like you in the whole world. Mothers had to say things like that. It was ingrained in them. If it were true, why did Dad leave? Why was I practically invisible at school? Why would Tucker Finley never give me to time of day? I cleared my throat. I hardly got to see Mom and I didn’t want to fight. “Like I said, it was a great night.”

  “I’m glad, honey. You deserve to have some fun.” Mom went back to her coupons, her face frowned with worry. I poured myself a bowl of generic corn flakes and measured out the milk very carefully. It had to last us all week. I imagined what Harper must have been doing just then. She probably had her family’s personal chef placing a plate before her filled with scrambled eggs, French toast, bacon (the thick good kind) and fruit. Someone was probably pouring her a nice, hot cup of coffee from one of those fancy antique silver coffee pots. I shook my head and focused on my life. This was the hand I had been dealt so I had to make the most out of it.

  When Brooke got up a couple of hours later, I told her everything. She wasn’t even mad about the cotton candy. She was just happy to hear all about the carnival and the after party. Brooke watched me in awe as I told her everything, especially how Harper had spoken to me and how my friends and I had been invited to the party. Her eyes gleamed as if I were the coolest person in the world. Poor thing. She had no idea what a loser her big sister was.

  Monday morning, I awoke to an alarm going off, only it wasn’t my alarm. My phone alarm was set to duck-quacking mode, but instead some pop song they played all the time on the radio blared in my ears. I despised that song.

  With my eyes half opened, I reached over to turn it off. When the music stopped I froze because something was wrong. I was not in my small white bedroom with a dresser and futon. I was in someone’s massive bedroom that looked like something from a magazine. The walls were painted a deep maroon color and the furniture was black and antique looking, edged with fancy gold trimming. A huge flat-screen TV was mounted to one of the walls. This room was like nothing I had ever seen before. Above my head was a black canopy. The beautiful fabric was twisted around the tall bed posts. I had wanted a canopy bed since I was a little girl and every princess in every fairy tale I read had one. Straight ahead was a vanity filled with all sorts of makeup and beautiful bottles filled with perfumes. To the left of the vanity was a closet. The doors were open, and I could tell right away that it was a walk-in closet.

  Around my shoulders was not blond, but jet-black shiny hair. I raced to the mirror and saw the reflection of the prettiest girl in Everson. I flung the silk sheets and puffy black comforter away from me. The long t-shirt with a bunny eating a slice of pizza was gone and I was wearing a silk sleeveless top with matching shorts. I stretched my legs out on the bed. Those go
rgeous, tan appendages could only belong to one person. It had actually happened. I had switched places with Harper Granger.

  There was a sharp knock at the door. “Harper, what on earth are you doing? You were to be down for breakfast five minutes ago. Come now. The food is getting cold.” That was the brisk voice of a woman with an accent I couldn’t quite identify.

  Forcing myself out of my stupor, I grabbed a white silk robe from where it hung behind Harper’s bedroom door. I slid into it and tied the sash around my waist. I also put on the pair of white bedroom slippers that sat beside her dresser. Opening the bedroom door, I stepped into the hallway. Before me was a long, dark hallway. To my left was the marble staircase. A mixture of yummy breakfast smells made my mouth water. Taking small, cautious steps down the staircase. Expensive looking art work covered the walls.

  The stairs had led me to the living room. The floors were covered with animal-skin rugs. On one wall were life-sized portraits for each member of the Granger family. A grand piano was placed at the center of the room. Leather couches, marble tables, and tall golden lamps were scattered throughout the room. I had no idea where to find the dining room in the massive house, so I followed the sound of clinking dishes.

  My knees wobbled. How was I supposed to do this? How was I supposed to pretend to be Harper? Surely her parents would know right away that something was up. What had I been thinking to ever go through with this? With my heart racing, I moved closer to the sounds.

  I paused just outside the door where the voices were the loudest. “What is she doing?” asked a woman’s voice. This one was different from the one who was at my door.

  “Maybe she isn’t feeling well,” a male voice offered.