“I’ll be your plus one.”
Chapter Two
Ben
Three years later
“I’ve been drinking heavily since I became a SEAL. I don’t need to go out tonight,” I say, holding my stomach at the reminder of alcohol. “Last night I tied one on so hard my intestines are still violently angry at me.”
Harper moans her dissident about the situation. “It’s your twenty-first birthday. Did you take a beer shit yet?” Harper asks. “You have to eat cake. We’d eat cake if I were there.” She swings from topic to topic so quickly it makes my head spin.
“You sound like such a kid when you ask me questions like that. Was beer shit something you overheard in class, Harper?” I smile. She hates when I single her out as different than her peers. Funny, it’s the reason we’ve stayed friends all this time. I shift the phone from one ear to the other. She called to sing me happy birthday, like she does every year. “I’m sorry.” Apologize before she rebukes. I’ve learned that about her. Harper can’t get mad after I say I’m sorry.
She sighs. “I’ve been to plenty of college parties. Maybe not the kind of parties you go to. I’m not into hookers and blow,” she remarks, a hint of ice in her voice. “We’re more refined than that.” Low blow. She goes straight for the jugular by bringing up the life I could have had if I hadn’t joined the Navy instead of going to Harvard with her.
The terror attacks that rocked the world did so in an all-encompassing, freedom stealing manner. I watched the widespread destruction sitting on Harper’s bedroom floor. We spent weeks, right there, in that same spot, watching the President of the United States give speeches and news reporters with terrified faces offer updates on the death toll. Harper’s aunt was killed in a parking garage at the mall here in San Diego.
Our friend Peter’s mother and father were killed when their cruise ship was hijacked by terrorists. His grandma stepped in as both parental figures after. The attacks were widespread, encompassing every country and almost every city in the world. Every form of destruction was used, from a simple automatic weapon, to car bombs, and IEDs strategically placed to cause the greatest amount of death.
My hackles didn’t go down as the world changed, and as I watched tears pour down Harper’s face as we buried her aunt, mere days after that fancy dinner birthday party. I’d silently made up my mind. I didn’t tell anyone of my decision because they’d try to sway my mind. Mostly I didn’t want to disappoint them, because I knew without a shadow of a doubt I wasn’t going to Harvard. I was going to join the Navy and be a goddamn Navy SEAL.
Destiny was forced by the terrorists’ hands. It wasn’t easy to get in the physical shape required for BUD/s and Hell Week. In fact, the process was the hardest thing I’ll ever do in my entire lifetime. The numbers of Americans wishing to enlist were pouring in after the terrorism washed across the world. Patriotic men and women, just like myself, switching plans to make their lives better used. Harper didn’t talk to me for a full week after I told her about my plans. My parents went into a somber period where I’m sure they mourned the life they thought I’d have. Explaining I would have a more fulfilling experience serving my country did little to quell their fears. With good reason.
Our world fell apart that day. Nothing will ever be the same. It’s an impossibility. Martial Law lasted so long that we stopped counting months when it seemed commonplace. Curfews and road blocks were the new normal. Grocery stores were wiped out and you found fresh produce when you were lucky. Some of the power plants around the U.S. were affected and some citizens went months without power. It reminded me of the apocalypse—or some TV show where zombies lurk around corners waiting to chew off your face.
Harvard seemed so far away. Who goes to school to learn when national security is threatened? It was surprising how quickly life returned to something familiar. Harper left on time, and something resembling our old life resumed.
“Your birthday is coming up. Want to fly to come see me? I’ll buy your plane ticket,” I offer when the conversation falls into a lull. We live two completely different lives. Harper has her nose stuck in a book while I have my gun shoved down some asshole’s throat. I grew up fast, and sweet Harper is still catching up in all of the ways she’s always lacked. “We can celebrate both of our twenty-first birthdays then.” It’s a peace offering.
“I guess,” she says.
I tell her I have a long weekend next month and we talk logistics in case I’m not able to pick her up at the airport. My job in the military is steady. My schedule isn’t something I can ever count on, though.
“Do you have your own place again or are you sharing with…those guys?”
Laughing, I try to picture her crinkled nose and upturned lip. “You know rent is crazy expensive out here. I’m rarely home. Rest assured I do have my own place again.” I lived with a few SEALs right after I graduated BUD/s. Harper came down with her parents to visit me and she was horrified. Mostly because it was her first glimpse of my life after her, and it was nothing like it was supposed to be.
She grumbles under her breath. “They looked at me like I was lunch. Right in front of my dad!” Harper exclaims.
“I told them you were single. They asked.”
“I don’t need your help with men, Ben. Please.”
She doesn’t date. I know it for a fact. “Mark your calendar then. I’ll get your ticket squared away and email you the confirmation. We’ll have cake and whatever else you deem birthday worthy.”
“I can live with that. What’s your new place like?”
I make my way to my bathroom and glance around. “Uh, I’ll have to clean up before you come.”
She scoffs. “Still not a housekeeper, huh?” It’s been a whole year since I’ve seen Harper. We have one of those friendships that never change. She’ll arrive and it will be like no time has passed at all. “Am I sleeping on the couch?”
I should have known that’s what she was fishing for. “No. Sleepover in my bed, of course. Flashlights and Captain America comic books.” I bite my lip to stifle a laugh.
“Ha. Ha. We’re not kids. We can’t sleep in the same bed anymore. That’s just weird. Boy, girl platonic relationships don’t function that way.”
I’m not sure how else they’d function. We’ve made it work our entire lives.
I tsk her. “It’s only weird because you said the word. It’s completely normal. When do your exams finish up?”
