Harlee

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The two days before my thirteenth birthday seemed to drag by ever so slowly.

Or maybe I just felt that way because of how bored I was.

Evan and Rachel had had their date Wednesday afternoon, but later that evening, Rachel and her parents had to go out of town. Mr. Krenshaw had been called up by a home renovation company to meet about a possible contract with his painting business.

The company headquarters was in Phoenix, so the Krenshaws' relatives that lived there drove them up, and they'd also be staying with those relatives there.

The good news was if it went through, it would help the Krenshaws' financial situation tremendously. The opportunity would give Mr. Krenshaw tons of clients and exposure all over the state.

Rachel told me her dad had said,

"If it goes through, we'll be getting a house before the summer is out."

I hoped for the best for the Krenshaws.

The bad news was that the Krenshaws wouldn't be back until next week, meaning Rachel would miss my birthday. The other bad news was that this left me with no one to hang out with, really. Farrah hated me still, and I was still trying to move on from what happened with James and not run back to him despite his desperate pleas and fake apologies he'd texted and left on my voicemail.

The only person I did have to hang out with was Jasper.

Yes, Jasper.

Conveniently for me, he had happened to be at the mall on Tuesday when Rachel and I witnessed Hyland and James' parting kiss.

Shortly after it, Jasper walked up to me and asked me if I wanted to attend the Fourth of July bonfire with him.

Normally, James and I went to that together, along with our families. So I was reluctant to agree at first.

But then I saw James standing behind Jasper observing it all.

And when I noticed how it was affecting James to see Jasper wanting to hang out with me, I quickly agreed.

Now, he knew how I felt with him and Hyland.

Revenge was sweet.

But unfortunately for me agreeing to hang out with Jasper to spite James wasn't the fun I thought it'd be. Not only did I feel guilty for using Jasper (especially since he'd been so nice to me lately), but it also wasn't much fun because during my time with him, I realized, even more, there was no replacing James.

It was just one day before my thirteenth birthday, and I'd never felt more bored.

Jasper and I were sitting in my living room with the TV on but not watching it.

I sighed.

Around this time a year ago, James and I would be having our birth week tradition together, making memories.

I tried not to think of what used to be and focus on the present.

There was no turning back the clock. No matter how much I may have wanted to.

My eyes glanced over at Jasper, who was staring down at his phone.

His face was always stuck in his phone.

In the few hours I had spent with him, I found out there wasn't very much to him. Meanness aside, he was pretty much a blank slate.

I sipped my pink lemonade beside me and asked him,

"Hey, want to go to the arcade?"

"Nah, Mike and I already beat that racing time. It's old news now," he said without looking at me.

"Um, what about the mall?" I tried again.

"Usually, I only hang at the mall to get clothes or games. Already did that this week, so pass," he said, tone more dismissive this time.

"Well, do you want to go to the beach or something?"

He didn't answer me that time; he just held up his index finger telling me to wait. I didn't know how anything on a phone screen could be more entertaining than going to the beach, so I asked.

"What are you watching?" I said.

I tried to sound interested, although I knew it probably wasn't very interesting at all.

"Prank videos," he replied.

"Oh." I nodded, gulping down some more pink lemonade.

I was right.

"Why don't you cast it to the TV? Then we could both watch it together?" I suggested.

His eyes finally glanced up at me, but all he said was,

"I could do that...or you could just search them up yourself; it's not that hard." He turned his attention back to the phone screen; then, he laughed at the video he was watching.

I slumped against the sofa and tossed my head back onto a cushion.

This was excruciatingly boring.

Wasn't there some way to detach him from his phone?

"You know something more fun than watching prank videos?" I lifted my head, an idea forming in my mind.

"What?" he said, sounding skeptical.

"Making them ourselves then filming them. Like the prank that I pulled on you a few summers ago." I gave him a playful smirk.

He frowned at the last bit and shook his head.

"Yeah, uh, I think we're a bit too mature for that now." He turned back to his phone.

Is sitting on our phones doing nothing all day mature?? I wanted to scream at him.

At that point, I'd had enough. I went up to my room and grabbed my swimsuit from my closet. Then I packed it, my sunscreen, a towel, shades, a five-dollar bill, and a book into my beach bag. Jasper could waste the rest of his summer away if he wanted, but not me. With or without friends, I was going to have some fun.

I went back downstairs to kick him out and realized he hadn't even noticed my absence. I put my hands on my hips and glared at him.

"Jasper, you have to go; I'm leaving," I said to him.

He came out of his trance and looked over at me.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes.

Did he not see the beach bag I was holding?

Another strike against him, I thought. Not too bright.

"To the beach, obviously. I'm bored out of my mind just doing nothing," I replied.

His shamrock eyes squinted in confusion.

What? Are you so deprived of nature you've forgotten what a beach is? I wanted to say. But I didn't. Because kicking him out was one thing, but just being plain mean was another.

"We weren't doing nothing; we were talking," he said.

"I was talking." I pointed to myself. "You were sitting on your phone, ignoring me."

He nodded, then to my surprise, he apologized, "Right, well, I'm sorry. Want to go to the beach together?"

"Are you going to ignore me there too?" I raised my eyebrows.

"No." He pocketed his phone. "See phone's gone."

I gave him a satisfactory nod, but honestly, it didn't really matter.

With or without his phone, he just wasn't all that exciting to me.

We headed to the beach on our bicycles. Jasper talked to me a little to make up for earlier. But as he did, I realized almost everything that exited his mouth was something negative, arrogant, or annoying.

"You know what I hate about summer?" he said to me when we were halfway to the beach.

"No, what?" I asked, wondering how anyone could hate summertime.

Even with the awful one I'd been having, it was still my favorite season hands down.

"That it's so freaking hot outside," he groaned, flipping his sweaty blonde curls from his eyes as we rode up to a stop sign.

"That's the best thing about it," I countered then pulled my sweaty hair into a high bun.

"How so?" he asked while we waited for the cars in the intersection to finish driving by.

For some reason, the question made me feel even more agitated with him.

"You can play in water, go get ice cream, and do other fun stuff to cool off," I explained, failing to keep the irritation out of my tone.

Jasper shrugged then studied me.

"You're a girl. And a pretty one. Shouldn't you hate sweating?" he asked me.

The sexist comment aggravated me so much that the fact he'd just called me "pretty" flew right over my head.

I resisted the urge to ram his back tires with my bike.

"My gender has nothing to do with how I feel about sweating, thank you," I said snappily then quickly started riding off without him.

I heard him panting and trying to catch up behind me but refused to slow down.

That'll show him.

I'm a girl, and I'm faster than you on a bike, I thought triumphantly.

He caught up with me after a few seconds, though.

"Sorry, I didn't realize how bad it sounded when I said it," he apologized.

I just shrugged it off.

"But I meant what I said before that, though," he went on.

"Huh?" I asked.

"About you being pretty. Because you are; you're seriously pretty. No cap."

Upon hearing this, I looked away from him in shock.

Jasper Collins, the boy I've spent years defending my best friend against thinks that I'm pretty?

Right then, my mind flashed back to the day James and I first became friends. I remembered how I didn't understand why Jasper smiled at me during the bonfire.

Then I remembered a more recent event, Farrah's party, when he was nice to me after James had hurt me.

I remembered how he'd helped me buy Rachel's dress at the mall a few weeks ago. And I remembered the fact he'd asked me to go to the Fourth of July bonfire with him.

But I had thought he'd just wanted to hang out as friends.

I felt incredibly stupid for only just realizing it then.

Jasper Collins has a crush on me.

Ew. I shuddered as I came to the conclusion.

"Hello, Harlee?" I heard his voice say.

"Yeah?" I said, looking at him, trying not to make disgust obvious.

"I said, 'Are you miffed off that I called you pretty as well'?"

"Um, no. It's fine," I said.

"You know I like you, right?" he said nonchalantly as we made the final turn on our route to the beach.

I willed myself not to get sick at those words.

I didn't want Jasper Collins liking me or flirting with me, and since I'd agreed to hang out with him, I really didn't want him thinking he was dating me.

"Is there um...anyone else you like?" I asked him, praying to the universe that there was someone, ANYONE else he did.

"Myself," he laughed as we pulled into the bike rack in the beach parking lot.

I rolled my eyes at him for probably the millionth time that day.

He didn't seem to care that I didn't say I liked him back.

With his arrogance, he probably just assumed I did.

I went to go change into my one-piece in the women's restroom after that. Jasper was waiting on me outside when I got out, and he was (wouldn't you know it) watching Newtube on his phone.

As we were heading towards the ocean, a little red-haired girl ran past us, chasing a seagull. She was holding an ice cream cone, and as she bent down, trying to grab the bird, she dropped her scoop of ice cream into the sand.

The little girl burst out crying.

And Jasper burst out laughing.

"That's not funny, Jasper. She's crying," I admonished him.

"It's just an ice cream cone. She'll get over it." He shrugged.

He was seriously infuriating me.

It was like the boy had no personality besides the fact that he was cruel and cocky.

He hasn't changed a bit, I thought angrily as I walked over to console the child.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked her.

The little girl looked up at me, her gray eyes wide and sad.

"No, I dropped my ice cream." She pointed to the splattered dessert in the sand.

"I saw," I said, then opened my beach bag and handed her my five-dollar bill. "Here, this will be enough to buy you another one from the beach Sweet shop, okay?"

The little girl smiled at me and gratefully took the money.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed happily.

"No problem," I smiled back. "But where are your parents, or who'd you come here with?"

"Over there." She pointed behind me.

I looked back to see a blonde woman holding a sleeping toddler approaching us.

"Lilian, I turn my back for one second, and you're halfway across the beach," the woman said, shaking her head at the girl.

"She was chasing a seagull," I explained to her. "That's how she dropped her ice cream." I pointed at the mess in the sand, and the lady glanced down, just noticing it was there.

"And she gave me money, Mommy, to get another one!" Lilian waved the five-dollar bill in the air.

Her mother smiled at me.

"Well, that was so kind, but you didn't have to do that," she told me.

"Oh, it's no problem." I shrugged.

"Did you tell her thank you?" Lilian's mother asked her as Lilian walked over to her.

Lilian nodded then smiled at me again. "Thank you!" she chirped.

"You're welcome," I said, feeling glad that I was able to make her feel better.

"Can I go get more ice cream now, Mommy?" Lilian asked, tugging on her mother's free arm.

"Sure, sweetheart, just one second," she said, taking Lilian's hand.

"Thank you," Lilian's mother said to me. "But are you sure you don't want the money back? I can get her another one; my purse is with our other stuff right over there." She pointed to their beach set up a few feet behind her.

I shook my head. "Nah, keep it; little kids need to have kind gestures done for them; it teaches them to do the same."

The lady smiled brightly like she liked my way of thinking.

I smiled back, and then she thanked me again before they turned to head toward the Sweet Shop to get Lilian a new ice cream cone.

Jasper came over to me, wearing a blank expression.

"Well, that was dumb," he stated.

"What was dumb?" I asked.

"You just gave your money to a total stranger," he said.

"She dropped her ice cream," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but her mom said she could buy her another one and offered to give it back to you, so I think it was dumb to let them run off with your money the way they did."

I felt myself becoming irate with him again.

As if I didn't have a long enough list of reasons to feel agitated by him, now I could add stinginess to it as well.

I wanted to call him out on it, but I didn't have the energy.

So I just said, "As I said, kids need kind gestures done for them, so they'll know to do the same," hoping he'd leave at that.

He didn't.

It was as if he was trying to grate on my nerves.

"Okay, but if you end up getting thirsty or anything," he said. "I don't have any money. I left my wallet at home."

"I'm fine," I told him.

And I don't need you to buy me anything, I added in my head.

"Alright, ready to hit the waves?" he asked me.

"You don't have a swimsuit," I pointed out, setting my beach bag down.

He glanced down at his clothes like it had just dawned on him that he was wearing them.

After a second, he shrugged and said, "I'll dry off in the sun."

I nodded, and we walked towards the water. We went into the ocean, but neither of us fully submerged in the water.

Just a few minutes in, Jasper's face was stuck in his phone again.

He was literally standing at the edge of the water, watching Newtube videos.

"Hopeless case," I muttered to myself, shaking my head at him.

Suddenly, an uneasy feeling came over me.

You know that feeling when you can tell you're being watched?

The beach wasn't too crowded, so I didn't really know why I felt that way.

My eyes scanned the beach, and I discovered I had been being watched.

Farrah, Hyland, and Amy were a few feet away.

They were sitting on a beach towel, wearing matching chiffon swimsuit cover-ups, all whispering to one another.

It didn't take a genius to figure out they were whispering about me.

And the smug look on Amy's face was enough to tell me whatever they were saying wasn't positive.

Given the way I'd hurt Farrah, I could kind of understand Farrah's disdain for me. But it still felt like she was being a tad bit immature.

Regardless, I made my way over towards them, wanting to try and apologize to her again.

When we first became friends, I never would have thought I'd end up feeling this way. But now that I truly knew her, I missed her.

I missed her a lot.

And not just because I was bored with Jasper or because Rachel and James weren't around.

It was because of her gregarious, larger-than-life personality.

It was because of her high-pitched squeals when she got excited and choker hugs when she was upset.

It was because of her compassion toward and willingness to be a friend to the friendless.

It was because of who she was that she'd become one of my best friends.

A best friend, I really wanted back.

When I reached the three of them, they all went silent immediately.

Amy was wearing the expression she always wore at the sight of me. Farrah gave me a crestfallen stare, and Hyland didn't look too happy with me either.

I figured she was likely just taking Farrah's side over the whole situation because Farrah was her friend.

But the glare she was giving me felt kind of personal.

"Hey," I said.

No one greeted me.

I sighed and tried to come up with the words to apologize again.

But honestly, I was so over all of the drama of this summer I just didn't know what to say.

Before I could think of something, Amy, of all people, spoke to me.

"Hey, backstabber," she said, standing to her feet. "How does it feel to be such a traitor to your friends?"

I rolled my eyes.

Of course, I thought to myself.

Just like Jasper, the only words she knows are unkind ones.

"I didn't backstab anyone, Amy. This isn't any of your business, anyway," I shot back.

"It is my business. You hurt two of my friends." She put her hands on her hips.

"Two?" I repeated, wondering what she meant by that.

"Yes, Farrah and Hyland."

"Hyland? I didn't do anything to Hyland!" I argued back.

My eyes glanced over at Hyland, who was still glowering at me.

I didn't know what on earth was going on.

How had I managed to make her hate me too?

"And for the dumbest reason too," Amy continued.

"Over a boy. Haven't you ever heard of the girl code? 'Sisters before misters'?"

"I literally have no idea what you're talking about," I said.

I was bewildered.

Last time I checked, Amy didn't even like Hyland.

And I had a feeling this was still true. But now, since Hyland hated me too (for whatever reason), Amy was happy to use that and Farrah's anger at me to make me feel bad.

Because as much as Amy may have disliked Hyland Pennington, she most certainly hated me more. Probably because, unlike Hyland, I put her in her place whenever I had the chance to.

"Don't try to act all innocent, Harlee," Farrah finally spoke.

"First, you let Rachel steal Evan from me. And now, you've stolen James from Hyland."

The wild accusation threw me off even more.

I didn't steal James from Hyland!

If anything, she had stolen him from me!

"What? I didn't steal James from anyone! He and I aren't even friends anymore!" I yelled back.

By this point, I was losing my patience with these three.

"You aren't?" Hyland asked, her glare disappearing.

"No, we aren't," I confirmed, still confused on how she'd come to the conclusion I'd stolen James in the first place.

Amy's face went smug again at this.

Hyland didn't look smug, though; in fact, she looked overwhelmed with guilt.

I had a feeling that maybe, she wasn't truly mad at me after all.

She had simply been