Harry slid his arm out from under Madeline’s hand and tapped his birthday present. “Don’t worry, Ebenezer. I’ve got my signed photo, that’s payment enough.”
Madeline looked from Harry to me, the smile still on her face. But there was something behind that smile now. As though she was trying to read the room. I had to look away.
“Well,” she said to me. “I bet you’re having the time of your life. I mean, you’re living the dream that most kids can only fantasize about. It’s wish-upon-a-star kind of stuff.”
I shrugged. “I guess. I mean, it’s a learning curve, that’s for sure. And yeah, it’s definitely wish-upon-a-star kinda stuff. But some days you get the feeling you should have been more careful what you wished for.”
Harry sat forward and I saw the concern on his face. “You’re not happy out there? If you’re not happy, you should come home straight away.”
“I’m okay. I’m happy.” I wanted to sound like I meant it, but I wasn’t so sure I pulled it off. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I’m old enough to look after myself.”
Truth was, I didn’t want to look after myself at all.
I wanted Harry to scoop me up in his arms.
I wanted him to hold me tight.
I wanted him to protect me from fame and glamor andeverything.
But I knew that was never going to happen.
I changed the topic. “Enough about me. So, Madeline, how are you finding life at Mulligan’s Mill High. Any apples for the teacher yet?”
HARRY
“I’mold enough to look after myself.”
When Dean said those words, my heart ached.
I didn’t want him to look after himself at all.
I wanted to scoop him up in my arms.
I wanted to hold him as tight as I could.
I wanted to protect him from whatever was making him feel sad or lost or lonely. I could hear it all in his voice. I could sense something hurting him deep inside and I wanted to make it all stop.
But I knew that was never going to happen.
And so, I sat there while he shifted the conversation to Madeline and they compared notes and stories about Mulligan’s Mill High. I fetched more beers and filled Madeline’s wine glass and Dean’s glass of tequila, until he said, “Actually, I think I’ll take a break from the tequila for a little while. It reminds me too much of LA.”
“What would you like instead?”
He looked up at me and brushed his fingers against the beer bottle in my hand. “I’ll drink whatever you’re having.”
My stomach knotted with both excitement and the pain of longing.
My head felt light.
My heart hammered in my chest and Madeline must have heard it because she said, “Let’s listen to some of Dean’s songs. This is a party, right?”
Dean shook his head. “Oh, Dad doesn’t own any of my music.”
But Madeline was already flicking through her own phone. “Don’t worry, I’ve already got a playlist happening. Please don’t think I’m a stalker. I’m not, honestly.”
I saw Dean move uneasily in his chair at the word “stalker.”
Nobody else noticed, then the music began on Madeline’s phone and Dean’s voice filled the room as the song “Hammer of my Heart” started playing.
