Six Weeks With The Wrong Morgan Brother

HARPER’S POINT OF VIEW.

“That’s it, Harper!!” My father’s roar almost drowns out the loud hum of his Aston Martin's engine. The smell of smoke and charred exhaust pipes, plus car tires, filled my nostrils as I breathed heavily. My grip around the leather-clad steering wheel tightened while I looked at him. “Get out of there!”

He yelled again, but still, I didn’t care. I clasped my hand around the gear, revved the engine one more time, before I reversed. Then I bashed it straight into the large art shed I'd watched him personally construct for her over the last six weeks.

Six weeks.

He stood here, in the pouring rain sometimes, in the hot sun, building this for his precious wife; more than he ever did for my mother.

“Harper!” He yelled again, still holding his wife’s hand. “Get out here, or I swear to God, I’m going to ground you till you are ninety.”

I coughed once, then twice, before I threw the driver's side door open. The second I got out, the scent of smoke, plus the sight of it, filled my senses.

“Huh, the damage isn’t as bad as I hoped.”

“Are you seriously saying that?” I turned to my father. “Look at your mother, Harper.” Her silent cries felt like an open wound dragged over hot glass.

“I was talking about the car, Dad.” I rolled my eyes. “Why are you so angry? It’s not like you won't replace this for her tomorrow?”

“That’s not the point. You’ve been acting like a stubborn child for years now. I decided to look away because your mother told me to; because she cares about you. But I can't anymore.”

“What are you going to do, Dad? Nothing could hurt me more than knowing my mother’s grave lies barely a couple blocks from our house; and in the past eleven years since she died, you never visited her.”

“You’re leaving, Harper. Get out of my house, get on the first flight to London; you’re going to Wellington University. Until you learn to respect your mother, learn manners, pack your bags, and be on the first flight to London. You’re going to boarding school. Your mother begged me not to do this after you poured termites on our bed last week; but today, I have to punish you.”

“W-what?” I whispered, nails digging into my palms as I struggled to breathe. “Y-you’re sending me to London? I have to see my mom every week, at least.”

“Then you shouldn’t have acted like a brat. As long as you refuse to respect your new mother and your sister, you’re no longer allowed to visit your mother’s grave.”

I didn’t waste a second; I stormed out of there, snatching one of the car keys in the process before I zoomed off to my best friend’s apartment.

“Carter!” I called, wiping my tears away, while my cheek stung and my heart bled. “Carter! Open the door!”

A couple of seconds later, he did. But the sight that greeted me froze my tears in place.

“I can't believe this is happening, Harper!” He sobbed into my arms while I tried my hardest not to smile. I’ve been in love with Carter Morgan for as long as I can remember, but he never looked at me as more than a friend.

Not even when puberty knocked on my door and gave me wide hips, double D-size breasts, a slim waist- curves I wished I could hide beneath my baggy clothes. However, my best friend Carter only had eyes for one woman;

Delaney Rhodes.

And now, he's crying in my arms because of her.

“I’m sure the news is fake anyways.” I wanted to tell him about what happened back home a couple of hours ago, but the second I walked in here, he wrapped his arms around me, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“No, it isn’t, Harper.” He grabbed the TV remote beside him, then flicked it on. The sound of paparazzi cameras filled the silent studio apartment before I saw her face. Delaney Rhodes; she smiled like she won a lottery ticket.

She probably did with the huge white rock on her finger. Hand in hand with him: Ethan Cross, the infamous MMA boxer. Her lips stretched so far and wide; I was shocked her cheeks didn’t split into two halves already.

“I would have given her everything; absolutely everything she could have ever asked for.” Carter sniffled beside me.

“You two have broken up six times over the last six years, Carter. Maybe it’s best to look elsewhere now.” Specifically to me, please. I know I probably sound pathetic, but I've loved him since we were kids.

I don’t think there's anyone better for him than me.

He deadpans for a moment before his soft chuckles fill the space between us. “Very funny, Harper.” He rolled his eyes, then flicked the television off. “You know how much I love Delaney. I've loved her since the first time we met six years ago under that Christmas mistletoe. She’s the one for me.’

I tried to fight the pain coursing through me. It was me; the girl he met under the mistletoe when he turned sixteen. It was supposed to be a stupid thing; I wanted my first kiss to be from him. So when I saw him draw and win a raffle, I cut the power to the artificial mistletoe our high school built, then I snuck under it before Delaney could.

I let him kiss me, and I loved every second of it.

However, karma had a wicked curse for me because ever since that moment, Carter has been convinced the girl for him is Delaney. He went after her the following day, confessed his feelings, and of course, Delaney, knowing how much I liked Carter, agreed to be with him.

Just to rub it in my face that I could never have him; I've hated her ever since then.

“I know what to do!” He suddenly jumped, turning to stare at me with a weird look in his grey eyes. A look I had a feeling I would hate.

“W-what a-are you going to do?” I blinked, slowly rising along with him.

“I’m going to go find her, let her know how much I love her before she marries that prick. Maybe I'll even be able to stop her before she can marry that bastard.”

‘C-Carter...I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Is he fucking insane? It’s hard enough to watch him chase after someone else; someone who should be me, but he wants to try and prevent her from marrying the guy she’s engaged to??

“Why not, Harper? You’ve always stood beside me no matter what.”

“I-it’s because…” I blinked, the words stuck in my throat. “D-did you see that guy she’s engaged to? He looks like he eats souls? What if he beats you up or something?”

“Then I'll take it.” He was like a brick wall. “I mean, isn’t that what you always see in those romance movies and novels you like to read? The male lead fights for his love, gets beat up by the villain a little, and he's able to win his love back. If I do that, Delaney will see I'm the one for her; she’ll come back to me.”

“I don’t know, Carter.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear to distract myself from crying; the bruise around my lip stung from time to time, a reminder of the slaps my dad dealt me.

“What’s that?” His voice dipped as he stared at me, at my cheek.

“Oh…that’s what I came here to talk to you about. I crashed Dad’s car into his wife’s art shed earlier today; because of it, he’s decided to punish me.” I pursed my lips, trying not to wince at the pain in my left cheek. “Dad’s sending me away to Wellington University.”

“That school for the rich and super rich in London?” His brows pulled together. “Wait!” He gasped, dropping his frown for a smile instead. “That’s the school Delaney is going to next week as well. Maybe since you’re going there, I could tag along and get to convince her there?”

“B-but Carter, you know I can't leave America; I can't leave this city because of my mom. Her grave is here; I visit it every Tuesday. If I leave, she’ll be all alone on Tuesdays. I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back.”

“I know how that must feel, Harper.” He stepped closer to me, his voice gentle before he wrapped his hands around my shoulders. “But I’m sure you will see her again; some other time. Imagine I lose this chance to get Delaney back again; I’ll never forgive myself.”

And my extension; he would never forgive me.

The last thing I wanted was to leave. It would mean I'd leave my mother; I’d give Mellissa this win; she’s wanted me out of the house for a longer time than I’d like to remember, but I’ve stood my ground at each attempt.

Now, if I leave, I don’t know what she’ll do in my absence.

But if I don’t leave, Carter will think I’m not a good friend. He’ll hate me…I can't let that happen.

“I…”

“If you’re with me in London, I’ll have the courage to get Delaney back. You can help me do it, Harper. You always help me do it.” He’s right… Six fucking times in each damn year.

I guess I can always come see Mom during the holidays…?