Playing Hard To Get
Sometimes, when her dad wasn’t on shift, she’d read the letters at the kitchen table while he
made pancakes and said nothing, just handed her tissues over his shoulder.
Once, he said, “It’s a good kind of love, Harper. I can see that.”
She’d smiled. But her chest still hurt.
By Halloween, the cold had settled in deep. The halls were decorated in fake cobwebs, students
dressed up in wild and ridiculous costumes, and Harper wore a black cat headband that Mia
insisted was “the right kind of sexy-nerdy.” She still didn’t love the spotlight, but she had learned
Bab Populer