Harper swallowed hard, trying to shake the thought that something was wrong. She felt uncomfortable and unsafe, and something about Hazel Freedman's words made her horrified.
She had suddenly lost that interest she had for reading that instant. Harper got up and picked her bag up. She gulped hard as she straightened her dress and began walking away. She walked through the library aisles, her arms clutching at her sides as she felt the room turn heavy as a result of the glares thrown her way.
Books paused mid-turn. Heads turned, causing confusion to knit Harper Reed's brows.
What was wrong?
What was actually going on?
She didn't know, but she felt something was off. Something was disgustingly off about her. Because people wouldn't just stare like that and this...
This was certainly not about the scandal.
She clutched her tote bag tighter, refusing to break, to shake, even though every step made her heartbeat faster. Eyes burned into her back. They were lingering. Eyes that were actually judging. There, Harper knew... something wasn't right. But what?
She just wanted to get out. She swiftly got to the library's exit and, without hesitation, she cranked the door open and leapt out.
Upon getting out of the library, Harper heaved a deep breath of relief and continued moving. But the hallway was no different. Eyes were fixated on her.
Not just her... her back.
Harper was beginning to feel like she needed to check what was wrong with her, and she actually did. She increased her pace, realizing that the moment she passed by a person or a group of people, she heard whispers.
Gasps.
Harper breathed a loud sigh, clenching the strap of her tote bag even more. Forcing herself to even move. Her breathing got loud. And she knew why. It was all as a result of the attention.
Then, she heard his voice—low, urgent, and cutting through the quiet.
"Harper. Stop."
Logan. Hayes.
Harper Reed just froze.
Immediately.
In one swift motion, Logan closed the distance, his hand slipping around Harper's waist as he tugged her back, her spine brushing against his chest.
Harper gasped, her eyes widening in the process.
"You're not walking out like that," he said, voice laced with quiet fury—not at her, but at whoever had done this.
She felt her heart racing, her lips parting. Logan let the moment elapse; everyone and everything behind them seemed to fade. He didn't know why, but he just didn't want this moment to pass.
Perhaps...
He enjoyed having her that close to him. Harper could barely breathe. She could feel his breath on her neck, and it sent chills down her spine. A wild red hue spread across her cheeks.
Her breath hitched as her mind raced with too many thoughts. She wanted to speak, but she didn't trust her voice not to shake if she spoke. Yet still, she decided to speak. Everything was so weird.
"W—what are you doing?" Harper whispered, her voice shaking. She bit her lip, trying to hide her tremble.
"You messed up," Logan Hayes breathed, the grip on her waist tightening for a brief second.
And Harper?
Harper shivered. Heat taking over. She tried to speak, but the words seemed caught up within her throat.
What did he mean by messed up?
She just hoped that it wasn't what she thought it was.
"W—what do y—you mean?" she asked, closing her eyes. Awaiting an answer that would shock her. She just knew it would.
But then, none came. Logan Hayes said nothing in reply.
Yet, he just yanked off his hoodie and wrapped it tightly around her hips. His hand lingered, warm and possessive.
Harper opened her eyes, staring down as realization took its place. Someone had made her stain herself. Slowly and carefully, Logan let go of her waist, and she didn't move one bit.
Harper was transfixed. Speechless even.
How? How could this happen?
"Next time," he murmured, "don't ever walk past a mirror without checking."
She finally found her voice, quiet and cracking. "I... didn't know, it's not possible." Harper's head remained buried all the while she spoke.
Before Logan Hayes could say something, they both saw Tyla rushing towards Harper.
"Are you okay, Harp?"
"I... I'm fine," Harper Reed breathed, her voice almost inaudible.
"Aight, let's go, girl." Tyla took her hand.
Harper's amber eyes were all moist. She turned slowly to Logan, a hurt expression on her face.
"Thank you," she whispered and began walking away with Tyla seemingly guiding her.
As Logan stared at their retreating steps, he also felt hurt. Seeing Harper look that way stirred a certain emotion within him.
But why?