Read Harp's Song for Free Online Page B

anger radiating off of you, and the way you turned with such determination and hit him …” I said my voice trailing off and getting quiet, “The whole thing freaked me out. I saw the look in Vincent’s eyes, like I was some sort of challenge and he was invincible. He definitely scared me more than you. And I know you were only protecting me, but … yeah, I guess I was scared.”
    Leaning over to me, Connor scoops his arm under my legs and wraps his other arm around my shoulders. He places me on his lap and I curl myself into his chest, “Harp, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just want to protect you. I don’t know what I would do if something happened you.”
    I put my hand on his chest, and look up at him, smiling into his beautiful, sincere face. “I love you too Connor. You’re my best friend.”
    His expression changes from joy to confusion at my words. I don’t know what I’ve done but it doesn’t matter, he pulls me close to him again and we sit there in his room for a few minutes until my stomach growls. We laugh before leaving to get some food. Even then, that shift I felt this morning is back. I don’t know if it’s a shift in him, both of us or just me, but its presence is definitely there, thick and heavy like a hot humid summer day.

“Did you finish that paper for English?” Connor asks after I hop into his truck. Monday mornings are usually a little rough. Combine that with the paper that is due in English class today, and well, I knew he was going to be grumpy.
    As much as Connor doesn’t like English, he does like Ms. Anderson—well, most of the guys in school like Ms. Anderson. She is younger than the other teachers, probably mid to late twenties, tall and thin with thick black hair, and piercing blue eyes. She always dresses in the latest trends—pencil skirts, skinny pants and heels—and needless to say, even if they hate English, the guys love being in her class. I am not sure they are learning much of anything with all the staring, and daydreaming they do though. Beyond her physical beauty, I really like her too—she’s a good teacher.
    “Yeah. Did you stay up all night writing your paper?”
    Rolling his eyes, he slumps himself over his steering wheel, “Yeessss … I don’t see the point though, it was a dumb assignment.”
    I blatantly disagree with him. We had just finished reading one of the required books for the curriculum, and she was giving us a break to write about one of our favorite memories. We’d had a week to do the assignment, so I had done mine throughout the week and knew Connor would procrastinate and wait until Sunday night.
    “Oh, so learning how to write and understand the English language is useless to you because you’re too good for it?” I throw back at him. I love teasing Connor about how much he hates English, only because next to music it is my favorite subject. The tables turn on me when it comes to math and science though. Connor is a brainiac in those subjects, and always has to help me with my homework in those classes.
    “Seriously Harp? You gonna rag me about English on a Monday morning?” he says, shaking his head.
    “Ok, ok, I’ll go easy on you—here,” I reply holding a blueberry muffin in his direction.
    “Thanks! You’re the be…” he exclaims shoving the muffin in his mouth. I have an obsession with baked goods and almost every Sunday I make muffins, cookies, banana bread, whatever sounds good and then share it with Connor on the way to school. Plus, I always feel bad that he drives me to school and back every day, so I figure it’s the least I can do since he won’t accept gas money from me.
    Pulling into a parking spot at school, I look around enjoying the normality of it all. Even though I’m not outgoing, I love being at school instead of my house. As soon as Connor gets out of his truck and starts walking toward the doors, ding-dong girls, or members of the baseball team accost him.
    Connor had been