52
"Look how beautiful the colors are!," Piper says in reference to the foliage along the highway. Jamie and Harper snicker in the back.
"What're you upto?," she asks toward the back of the car.
"Nothing," they reply in unison. Jamie continues, "ma's passed out from all this excitement and you...,"
"I what?," she asks exasperatedly.
"You just sound really old."
"Hey, do you wanna drive?," she asks him with a tone to watch it.
"Yes!"
"Then shut your face."
They start laughing again.
Alex stirs and grumbles, "what does everyone in this car have against me sleeping?"
"See? You woke the beast," Piper teases as Alex curls her body toward the window and tries to nod back off.
As they pull off the exit ramp, Jamie unhooks his seatbelt, legs bounce in anticipation to get behind the wheel and practice on the suburban streets of his grandparent's neighborhood.
As Piper and Jamie switch places and the doors slam, Alex fully wakes up. "Wait, why am I in the front seat?"
He turns to look at her, seemingly annoyed, as if he's the latest Nascar reject.
"Because you're always saying that I'm a bad driver," Piper states from the back, and puts her seatbelt on.
"You are, Lead Foot."
"You've made fun of me, more times than once, for driving too slow."
"Yeah when you drove my car because you were petrified of damaging it. Now? You couldn't care less if you mess up the car."
"That was a luxury sports car!, she defends as it was one of the most expensive cars she'd ever been behind the wheel of.
Alex laughs.
"This one is half mine so I wouldn't feel as guilty."
"You had a sports car?," Jamie asks her pushing his seat back and adjusts the mirrors.
"Yeah," she says and looks out the window.
"Hello?," Piper taps her wife on the head, "are you even paying attention?"
Alex sits up to pay more attention while Piper praises him, "good job J, now keep your foot on the brake and shift into 'drive.'"
"I know," he says, and shifts the gear taking his foot off the brake. The car starts to move.
"Stop!," the blonde yells out.
"What?," he hits the brake and looks around.
"You didn't put your signal on or check your blind spot!"
"There's no one here!," he says waving his arms around.
"It doesn't matter! Every time you need to put your signal on, and you check your blind spot."
"Mom, there's no one here!"
"Every time!," she shouts, "or were switching back."
"Okay!," he shouts back.
He puts the left signal on, and exaggeratedly looks over his shoulder at nothing and starts driving on the road. After a minute or two, he starts going faster, creeping above the speed limit.
"Watch your speed," Piper warns.
His foot comes a little too heavily against the brake to slow down and jolts the car forward.
"Jesus J," Alex whimpers with her hand on her chest, gripping the grab handle on the roof.
"Sorry," he laughs and goes about ten miles under the speed limit.
"Uh Jamie," Harper starts, "I'd like to see Grammy and Gramps while they're still alive."
"He's doing fine," Piper taps her daughter's knee while she leans up to give him directions. "Okay, not this street but the next one, make a right."
He moves over toward the right a little more, coming close to cars that are parked along the road, Alex covers her eyes with her hand. She peeks through her fingers, and tells him to "put your signal on now and start slowing down."
He nods and makes a smooth turn and grins widely at her.
She chuckles. "Alright James Bond. Go up a few more streets and make a left."
"I know, I've only been here eighty thousand times."
She tells him to move his hands a little farther apart for better control of the wheel and he makes another effortless turn. He drives into his grandparent's driveway, Harper jumps out before the car is in park and races up to the front door eager to see them.
"What're you doing?," Alex asks him.
"Parking?"
"This isn't parking. What driveway have you seen by our apartment?"
He bites his lip nervously, realizing she wants him to parallel park.
"You've seen me do it a thousand times," she says brushing off the difficulty.
"Yeah but I never paid attention."
"It's fine just back out, go slow."
He backs up out of his grandparent's driveway, as the eldest Chapman's watch him pulling away from their house before they've even said hello.
"Alright, line yourself up with this car here," she says pointing to the adjacent vehicle, "put your right signal on, put the car in reverse and slowly go back until the little triangle window meets up with the back of their car."
He does what he's told, and stops. He turns his head to look at her for further instruction.
"Good, alright, cut the wheel all the way to the right, but look back on the left until you see the middle of the car behind you and then stop."
"This is why you're doing this," Piper chirps from the back, "I just park, I wouldn't know how to explain it."
"Yeah Pipes there's an actual technique here." Horrible driver, she mouths to Jamie, who laughs in agreement.
"I'm not a bad driver!," she says shoving Alex's shoulder, "you can drive home now. You're welcome."
"I can?," he asks.
"Not you," she clarifies.
"Hello?," Alex says trying to refocus everyone's attention so they can get out of the car, "can we finish?"
When she has Jamie's attention, she continues, "okay turn the wheel all the way to the left now and let your foot off the brake." The car slides into the spot.
"Perfect kid, just straighten it out a little," she says and starts to remove her seatbelt. He notices, and puts the car into park feeling proud.
While they're sitting around, picking at pre-Thanksgiving food while the turkey is finishing up, Harper curls up on the couch and leans into Piper.
Piper plants a kiss atop her head, while her daughter's eyebrows furrow below her line of vision. After a few minutes, she pushes off the couch and walks off.
When she comes back, most of them are around the table. She slowly takes a seat and they start to go around and say what they're thankful for.
Her 'tofurkey' is barely touched, when she steps away from the table again and goes upstairs. After a few minutes, Piper raises an eyebrow and goes to check on her.
After checking Cal's old bedroom, which is where her kids usually stay, she knocks on the bathroom door, noticing the light, reflected on the hallway floor, "baby?"
"Yeah?"
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she answers opening the door.
"What'dya doin?," she asks stepping into the bathroom.
"I got my period."
Her eyes light up, "you did?"
Harper nods excitedly as her mother hugs her tight, surprised and happy.
"But I can't find any pads or anything," Harper says as she crouches back down to the open cabinet underneath the sink.
"Yeah you're not gonna find any under there," she chuckles, "we have to go to the store. Just roll a bunch of toilet paper and lay it on your underwear."
"I did but I didn't know if it would leak through."
"Not that quick it won't. Can we go after we finish up dinner?"
"Yeah if you think it'll be okay."
"It will," she says gripping her daughter's shoulders and looks at her properly. "Well go to lunch tomorrow to celebrate you becoming a woman, okay?"
Harper once again nods excitedly, "okay."
Piper plants a kiss atop her head and rubs her hand over her head.
At dinner, they eyeball each other across the table, she swears her daughter sits up straighter, exuding newfound confidence.
"She's okay?," Alex whispers in Piper's direction.
"Yeah, she's great."
After dinner, Bill Chapman retires to his chair in the living room, while Carol heads to the kitchen and starts to clear the table as Piper leans into Alex to discreetly tell her of their daughters news. Her initial reaction is to say she's sorry and offers their daughter some ibuprofen. Piper's eyes are glazed with joy at their daughter's milestone, she clears away more dishes from the table and heads to the kitchen.
"I'm not sorry. I'm a woman!," Harper exclaims, taking the tablets of ibuprofen from her mother.
Alex can't help but smile at the enthusiasm of her barely pubescent daughter, "can we say lady? This makes you a step closer to being a woman."
Her face becomes immediately defensive, "no way, mom said..."
"I know, I know, I know," she raises a hand and then places it over her chest. "Please, for the sake of my heart."
"Mmmkay, can I at least be a young woman?"
"Fine," she says and refills her glass of wine and takes a sip. She tilts her glass toward her daughter, who takes it with a raised brow.
"I can have some?," she asks at a whisper taking the glass, knowing her grandmother would flip out at the gesture.
Alex nods and swallows her mouthful of wine.
Her daughter takes a small sip and then a larger one and then a gulp, when Alex takes the glass from her daughters lips, "hey, a sip, child."
She giggles and swallows her wine, "young woman," she corrects. Jamie looks up and just smirks at the memory of his ma giving him hist first sip of alcohol.
"Wipe your mouth," Alex thumbs the corner of her daughter's lips, wiping away the evidence. "Will mom get mad?"
"She wouldnt be thrilled."
"Yeah, she wasn't happy when ma gave me beer."
"You have him a sip too?"
She nods. She shushes her. "She gave me more than a sip."
"How old were you?," Harper asks her brother.
"You were about the same age?," she asks squinting and looking at Jamie who nods in confirmation. "I'm a bad influence," she blurts out.
"Yeah, didn't you get drunk in junior high?," Harper asks.
"Shut up, that was the worst morning ever."
"How do you even remember that?," Alex asks Harper.
"He told me he was sick from too much beer when we watched Harry Potter."
"Yeah she left me hungover to stay home and babysit. Who does that?"
"Did you ever do it again?"
"No."
"Then don't knock my tactics."
The kitchen door swings open, Piper places a pumpkin pie and apple pie on the table and starts cutting everyone pieces.
"Can we go to the store now?," Harper gently reminds her.
Jamie overhears the need for a driver and offers to chauffeur, unaware of what the errand is for. He's told he can drive but only if he promises not to be obnoxious. Piper has him wait in the car, while they run inside.
"What's with the secrets?," he asks when they get back in the car.
"Worry about yourself," Piper tells him and puts her seatbelt on.
"Why can't I know?"
"Because it's nunya business," Harper says with sass from the backseat, opening the assorted pack of pads on her lap.
"I can just drive us in circles until you tell me."
Harper leans forward in the car to change the station and elbows him.
"Why are you abusing the driver?," he asks flaunting his status behind the wheel.
Piper tells him to start driving before she has him swap out and he starts driving back toward their grandparent's house.
When he parks on the curb, Harper takes the open pad that she's had in her hand for the whole drive back and slaps it, sticky side, onto her brother's cheek. She exits the car cackling.
Alex and Piper get settled into her old bedroom, Alex lays across the length of Piper's bed with her arm over her face.
"What's the matter?," Piper asks her, prying her arm away so she can see the brunette's eyes.
"Being in here, makes me more nostalgic for their youth than I normally am, and then today happens."
"I'm so happy for her," Piper shakes her head.
"Yeah I don't get that? What's so great about it? My mother slapped me when I got mine. And then I told her that I liked chicks and that she didn't have anything to worry about and she slapped me again."
Piper laughs out loud, "I vaguely remember you going through the great depression, when yours ceased. Just saying."
"That's different."
"It's actually exactly the same. Your grief was over the same rationale as her pride, and it should be celebrated."
"Hmmph," Alex replies as Piper cozies herself atop her.
"Being female should be cherished. If I wasn't one, I'd never have snagged you."
"True story. I like this space," she drags her knee up between Piper's legs, "free of dangly parts." She rests her arms above her head, as she looks at Piper with adoration.
"What?"
Alex's eyes wander around the room, "it's kind of a turn on, being in here, with you laying on top of me."
"Oh Alex," she says sitting up some, "are you serious?"
"Yeah, it's like I snuck in, to get it on, like a horny teenager." Her eyes roam over Piper's bothered expression and then look toward her door. She moves so that Piper has to crawl toward the center of the bed in order for her to get up. She secures the $2.50 golden latch on Piper's door and wiggles her eyebrows.
"No way," the blonde warns, as Alex has that gleam in her eyes. She scurries over and pounces on Piper's ancient childhood bed. The creaking that ensues, puts Piper into a fit of nerves and causes Alex to guffaw.
The brunette messily maneuvers her hand down Piper's pants, and strokes her from inside, the way she knows she likes it.
"Alex, no," she looks at her sternly, as the the brunette's expression tells her to piss off, as she starts rocking behind her hand. The bed creaks with every rock, and Piper worriedly again tells her to "cut it out."
"Pipes, your folks are practically deaf."
"I don't care, these walls are paper thin...," Alex cuts her off, her tongue smoothly demanding entrance into Pipers mouth. Her free arm wraps around the blonde's back and encourages her to sit up and she moves them to the floor.
The following afternoon, Piper and Alex take Harper out to lunch, now with Jamie's blessing to not be involved. They talk to her about school, fishing for any new inner thoughts that she's willing to share. She speaks with confidence about some aspects of her life, but some sentences are laced with self depreciation regarding her appearance and it all but crushes Alex's heart.
Piper can relate, having grown up without pin straight hair or the biggest chest but she tries to convince her daughter that with time she'll learn to see her assets and starts to highlight some. She puts a piece of her hair on top of a piece of her daughter's and they're almost exactly the same color.
"The color isn't bad, I mean sometimes it's just boring."
"You're not dyeing your hair," Alex says. "The color is gorgeous, you're going to mess it up, just leave it alone."
"But some of the girls at school, put hair mascara in for dances, and I've seen pictures of them when they go to parties. It just looks nice."
"It's rebellious," Alex quips.
Piper recants and defends Harpers, "or it's self expression. Was your hair blue in rebellion or because it was part of your style?"
"First of all, we're talking about her, not me and I was an adult."
Piper glares at her knowing full well she'd played around with coloring her hair in high school. Having a strict upbringing, allowed her to raise her own children with more flexibility than she could ever imagine having. Harper catches the look Piper's giving Alex and tries her luck.
"Can I just try the temporary ones for the weekend?"
"How temporary are we talking about?"
"I don't know, can we see what they have?"
"Al, we'll get the kind that washes out."
"Then you take her, and help her color her perfectly fine, golden hair."
Harper practically foams at the mouth at the prospect of this being on the table.
Later that night, Piper sits with Harper trying to add a couple of light pink strands through her hair but it's barely visible, thanks to the cheap brand they got at the teen accessory store. Alex glances up from her book, noting Piper's frustration as she continues to try to make the color stand out more.
"Al?"
"Not getting involved," she says refusing to look up from her book.
"Ma you can hardly see it, can you please help?," Harper asks titling her head to the side. She glares at her daughter as if she's crazy to think she'll receive help from her of all people. "Ma please, I'll never ask for anything else again."
"Right," she laughs, having heard this when she convinced her to get heeled tap shoes, "like the older girls," and the week before when she begged to stay out an hour later than she was expected to be home.
"Babe it's just some color. It will wash out," Piper tries to remind her wife.
"I already said no. Two blondes putting their heads together," she's cut off.
"Watch it," Piper barks.
The brunette smirks and finishes, "and you can't manage to turn the lightest hue of color, hot pink? Sorry not my problem."
Harper pouts.
Alex refocuses her eyes away from daughter and back to the text on her book.
"Mama, please?," she hears from behind her book.
Her heart lurches every time she hears her daughter plead. "Harps you're perfect the way you look, right now."
"I wanna be perfecter," she says coming to her knees and leans her head on Alex's lap.
"Oh you're the worst!," she says as her daughter rubs her head gently along her leg.
"Please? What about for my dance next month? It'll look so cool."
"Ugh I'll see, okay? Maybe. And it's a strong maybe."
Nightly, Harper bolts towards the door hoping that Alex has come around, but every night she's told not to bother her about it or it's an automatic "no."
When she picks her up from dancing school, a month later on a Thursday evening, with a bag from the drugstore in hand, Harper can't get past the studio door fast enough. She squeezes her arms around her mother's neck and jumps up and down, "thank you, thank you, thank you!" She roughly shuffles the 4 different boxes of hair dye through the bag, "which one are we gonna use?"
"I was thinking a few streaks of each."
Her eyes go wide, unsure, "really?"
Alex nods confidently.
Francesca cranes her neck around the door to say hi, "so you caved?"
"Harper, did you tell everyone?"
Francesca laughs, "guess that baby pout still works Harps. Have fun at your dance okay? Let us know how it went."
She nods happily, "thanks miss Chessie."
Friday night before the dance, Alex does her hair, creating magenta, purple, blue, and teal streaks through the lower half of her daughter's curls. Harper's thrilled with the way it came out, and now Piper thinks she went overboard. "What happened to the pink streak. Singular?"
"This is so much better!," Harper says, using Alex's compact mirror to see different angles.
"Don't look at me like that," Alex says, screwing the caps back on the bottles to put underneath the sink. "You were all gung ho about this. If you're gonna do something, why half ass it?"
Harper nods in agreement runs off to change into a black top and denim skirt. She slips on her ballet flats and stuffs a purse with all sorts of nonsense that she doesn't need. When she gets to the dance, her friends freak out properly saying its amazing and want to do something similar to their own. They dance in a circle, cheering on each friend as they take a turn in the middle doing cheesy dance moves, until they take a water break and hang on on the gym bleachers. A kid she's never seen before tells her he likes her hair. He's taller than her by almost a foot, he's got converse sneakers, black skinny jeans, a black t shirt, with an open buttoned flannel one over it. He has a visible tattoo on his forearm, his hair is gelled and spiked with a longer jagged piece that hangs in front of his eye. The lobe of his ear, cartilage, and lip are pierced with hooped rings. He takes a seat next to her and she's about to come undone.
"Thanks," she says and then turns her head with wide eyes toward her friend Bridgette.
"I used to have one this color," he points to the teal strand that rests on her shoulder, "right through here," he rakes his hand over the side of his head.
"Awesome," she replies and sits on her hands. After talking for a few minutes and cracking a few jokes, he tells her that she should come by a party a bunch of people are going to after the dance.
Later at the dance, a girl from an upper grade, also tells her she and some of her friends should come by and gives her a paper with the address. They squeal as quietly as they can and try to keep it together for the remainder of the dance. A text message confirms she can go, but to check in at certain times.
Once she, Bridgette and two more of their friends get upstairs to this girl's party, they go around saying hi to the few people who they've talked to once or twice before, before settling on the couch.
The same guy, finds her sitting on a couch with a friend and offers to get them something to drink.
"What's around?," Harper asks.
"I've seen water, beer and soda," he tells her and looks around trying to take inventory of other options. Both girls say sodas and he walks off and returns with two cans of coke. Harper's friend says thanks and makes herself scarce.
"So, why don't I know you?," he asks her.
"I usually don't have the streaks," she replies caressing her head momentarily. He nods, looking at her soda, "shit, I'm kind of thirsty now."
She pulls her can back toward her shoulder, "no way get your own."
He laughs and quickly grabs a soda for himself and starts to re-chat with her. "So," she starts, "why don't I know you? Who's home-room are you in?"
"Livosi's."
She doesn't recognize the name, and looks confused.
"Reddish hair, always wears a blazer, has lipstick on her teeth?"
"Oooooh yeah. Wait, how old are you?"
The corner of his mouth dips down, "fifteen?"
Her eyebrow raises and furrows with the one beside it. He exhales, "I had to repeat seventh grade."
"Oh," she says sipping her soda. He looks down, feeling like he already blew it. "What happened?," she asks.
"I failed English."
She starts to laugh, her smile is contagious, and he laughs some with her. "We speak English, how did you fail?"
He shakes his head, "you sound like my mom. I just didn't care at the time. I didn't do the reading, missed class to ass around. I had to beg my parents to let me stay here and give me another chance, but you know, when you ask for one more chance half a million times, it doesn't go over very well."
She nods.
"But," he shrugs, "I'm still here right? It sucks, and having to tell people, is only a little humiliating, so you know, I survive alright."
"What's your name?," she asks him realizing she doesn't know.
"Jeremy. Hinton."
"Harper. Was named after a literary figure, uh oh" she points to him teasing, "ready, set, go."
He laughs and points to himself, "Pearl Jam."
"I've heard of them. What do they sing?"
He looks at her dumbfounded, "you don't know their songs?"
"I might? Sorry I can't just place them. Maybe they were a little before my time."
He laughs at her sarcasm regarding their three year age gap, and pulls out his phone and earbuds and has her listen to pieces of "Yellow Ledbetter, Daughter, and Better Man."
"Yeah, I know them," she shouts through the earbuds, "relax. My ma listens to them and a zillion other rock bands. I'm not a lost cause." She pulls the earbuds out and hangs them to him. "Jeremy Hinton," she mulls and purses her lips, trying to place him, "I've seen your name in programs of school plays. You act?"
"Nah, I help play the scores."
"Mmmm, you're in the orchestra?"
"Band," he drags and rubs his hand over his hair, "you're killing me here Harper."
She laughs, "sorry. What do you play?," she asks sitting a little closer.
"Bass."
"That's like a guitar right?"
He smacks his forehead, and laughs, "yeah it's like a guitar."
"Shut up," she shoves him, "I didn't know! Now I do." She sips her soda, "so do you have a band?"
He wrinkles his nose, "sort of, some guys from my year, well, what used to be my year, we get together and play a lot but my schedule's different so it's a little more difficult. But they're cool, we make it work. We've tried to play at a couple of places but it's so hard to get a 'yes' without having to pay a venue."
"Yeah," she says, having no experience with what he's talking about, she plays with the end of one of her purple tips.
"What are you into?"
"Oh," she thinks, "dance. Mostly."
"Wow," he says sarcastically at the smallest tidbit of information possible. He moves his hands around willing her to continue, "what type, like the cabbage patch or actual skilled dancing?"
She laughs, "actual skilled dancing. Tap, ballet, lyrical, jazz, contemporary. A little of everything, though, I could do hip hop but I shouldn't, so I don't."
"Well that's not impressive at all."
"I've been dancing since I was three, me and twenty other girls, so...its pretty standard."
"Well it's impressive to me," he says leaning back into the couch.
She smiles some and sips her soda, she follows suit and leans back as well.
"So, Harper Lee...," he says, her head turns quickly at the recognition, "I actually read that book, second time around," he cracks before she has a chance to, "but still, I read it."
"Yep, my mom's are literary dorks so..."
"So...," he tilts his head back, "they probably won't be too impressed about me failing English of all things."
She laughs, "who said you were coming over?"
"Damn, way to shoot a guy down."
The best friend of the girl who's apartment they're in, lets them know that they're gonna smoke on the balcony. When they don't move, she asks Harper, "have you never smoked before?"
Jeremy chimes in, "why does that matter?"
The girl looks at him, perturbed as she wasn't talking to him, "because it's free pot and you're both sitting here like you're scared you're gonna shit your panties."
"I...just don't want any," Harper responds, not wanting to piss this girl off, but is truly disinterested.
"Whatever," she says, unable to be bothered with wasting her time with them, she walks away and joins a crowd of girls near the balcony, but Harper cant help but hear the "loser" that she mumbles under her breath, along with the pairs of eyes, that keep looking over their shoulders, in her direction.
She feels her face heat up and gets up to walk to the bathroom, but her friend that came with her stops her in the hall to ask what happened. She manages to keep Harper together, and prevents her from crying in front of the majority of popular's of their junior high. Though most of the smoking is being done outside, the amount of participants cause the waft of marijuana scent to filter through the apartment.
"I think im gonna go," she tells her friend.
"Okay," she says, as Harper walks further down the hall to call Jamie to see if he can give her a ride.
"You're gonna stay?," she asks, inquiring if Bridgette wants a ride.
"Yeah for a bit, Jamie got the car?"
She nods, relieved that she wont have to get into a car with either mom reeking of pot. "Sweet. I'll figure it out later."
Jeremy sees them lingering in the hall and walks over.
"He's coming over here," she says giving Harper a heads up.
"Hey are you alright?," he asks,
"Yeah I'm fine, I'm actually gonna go, it's getting late."
"Where do you live? I can walk you home."
"I'm downtown, it's okay, my brother's coming to get me now so..."
"I'll walk you down then?"
"Mmmokay," she says with a sullen smile.
They wait in the lobby, each time a pair of headlights gets brighter she cranes her neck to see if it's Jamie.
"Why are people so fake?," she asks him, but keeps her eyes fixed on the glass door.
"What do you mean?"
"They just seemed nice at the dance, like inviting, welcoming and then because I don't want to do the same thing, I'm a loser?"
"Yeah," he scoffs, "well, those girls..."
"I mean what the hell is that?," she says with a flared temper.
His head pulls back at her snap, "I...I don't know. Some of those girls want to be followed and if youre not in 100%, I guess they can't take that."
She drags the toe of her shoe along the floor. "But, you're not a loser."
She mulls that over, "you know, my mom gave me a really hard time about doing this," she says brushing a curl through her finger tips.
"What the dye?," he asks.
She nods.
"Yeah my mom's not into my hair either but, it's just hair."
"Well my mom did it for me, she used to have tips too, but... she was really reluctant because she said she didn't want me to be anything other than myself."
"But you didn't compromise any part of yourself really, did you?"
"No, but I guess she thinks the attention from other people will lead me to do stuff she wouldn't want me to. She doesn't want me to be someone who's not at the root of who she knows me to be."
"Are you someone other than who she thinks you are?"
"No, I'm myself around her. I guess she's just afraid I'll do things because everyone else is doing them and lose the qualities that she likes, I dunno."
He smirks, "well, I've had a fun night getting to know some of those qualities too." He raises a hand toward her hair, "and I think this looks really cool, but it's not like you needed it."
"You would never have talked to me otherwise," she says matter-of-factly.
He shrugs his shoulders, "who knows? But I'm glad I did."
She ignores the butterflies that flutter around her stomach, her eyes avert at his words and look to the toes of her ballet flats. When she looks back up at him, he's staring.
"What?," she asks him with wide eyes.
"Nothing."
She sees him eyeing her mouth, "I'm not gonna let you kiss me."
He smiles trying to hide his embarrassment.
"Not with that thing in your face anyway," she says brushing her fingers along his lip ring.
"What? You don't like it?," his tongue brushes against the metal, he gently bites it with his teeth.
She chooses her words carefully and covers it with her finger, "you'd look better without it." She hears Alex's voice in the back of her head, and finally hears what she's been saying all month.
As her mothers' car pulls up, a second later, her phone chimes with a text from Jamie saying hes outside.
"That's my brother."
"Okay."
"I'll see you on Monday?"
"Yeah. Wait, can I at least have your number?"
She takes his phone and punches her number in quick, before heading toward the passenger seat of their car.
Jamie leans forward around her, looking at the punk kid standing in the lobby. "Who's that?"
She fights her smile, "just a friend."