Feels Like Home

"Sometimes home isn't a place...sometimes it's a person."

17 year old Harper has to completely start over when her dad and his new girlfriend decide to move to a new, much smaller town, and take her with them. She's absolutely miserable, wanting nothing more than to stay in her home with her school and her friends and everything that's familiar. But will that all change when she meets the ever so arrogant Justin Bieber, who's determined to make her like him? Hmm...maybe this move would'nt be so bad after all.


5. Chapter 5

I spent the rest of the night unpacking all of my stuff, and finally making my room my own. I unpacked all of my clothes, filling up and falling in love with my huge walk in closet. I unpacked all of my bathroom stuff. All of my books, art work, decorations, and random shit I was suddenly realizing I had no purpose for. Lastly, I got to my pictures. I sat in the floor, pulling each frame and photo album out one by one. They were mostly pictures of me and my friends, which brought a sharp pang of sadness to my stomach. I really missed them, but I wasn’t sure they felt the same. I even found a few pictures of me and Blake, but only felt disgust. At least I knew he didn’t give a shit.


I felt a sudden urge to throw the frame as hard as I could against the wall. I wanted it to shatter to tiny, irreparable pieces, though I know the photo itself would be left undamaged. Although the thought only crossed my mind for a moment, I instinctively lifted my arm to throw it. The only thing that stopped me was the light tapping on the glass door that scared the shit out of me. I jumped as I looked up at the door, to find Justin standing there, concern wrinkling his brow. I tossed the frame on the bed as I stood up and walked the few steps to the French door, turning the lock to let Justin in.


He immediately pushed the door out of his way and stood in front of me, crouching down to look me in the eye with his hands resting softly on my forearms. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, hesitantly and softly brushing the tears from my face. “What’s wrong?”


“It’s nothing,” I said, pulling away from his touch and making my way back to the box on the floor, pulling out more pictures.


“Well it’s obviously not nothing,” he laughed humorlessly. He grabbed the picture off the bed before sitting on the floor in front of me. “Who’s this?”


I glanced up to see him studying the picture of me and Blake. I chuckled when I noticed his jaw clenching. Was he jealous? “Nobody,” I replied, digging out more photo albums and frames wrapped in newspaper. “Just a piece of shit.”


“He looks like a douche,” he replied, laying the frame on the floor.


I took the frame from in front of him and took the back of it off. “You got that right,” I muttered, pulling the photo out and ripping it to little, unrecognizable pieces.


“Mind if I ask what he did?” Justin asked. I wasn’t sure what emotion was brewing in my eyes, but it seemed to startle him a little. “You don’t have to. I just might need some guidelines to stay on your good side,” he added, probably for my benefit.


It worked. He earned a small smile and a chuckle from me. “That’s Blake, my boyfriend.” His eyebrows rose at the word, and I realized what I’d said. Shit, I gotta get used to that. “No, ex-boyfriend,” I amended. “He’s an ass. He never really cared all that much about me, but I didn’t really realize it until I moved down here. When we left, he didn’t even come over to see me off or even tell me goodbye. Texted me saying it was too early for him to get out of bed, or some stupid shit,” I explained. As I relived the moment, the feeling of worthlessness returning to me, I felt the tears well up in my eyes. “None of my friends cared. No one has talked to me since. No one came to say goodbye.” I cursed myself for letting my voice crack.


“Hey,” Justin said softly, scooting across the floor and pushing the box out of his way to sit directly in front of me, his knees pressed up against mine. “Stop that,” he whispered, brushing the tears from my eyes yet again. “Fuck them. If they didn’t care enough that you left, then they don’t deserve you. They’re not worth your tears, are they?” he asked rhetorically.


I glanced up at him and shook my head ‘no’.


“That’s right,” he said with a nod, giving me an approving smile. “You’ve got new friends. You’ve got me.” He held his arms out, wide open as if he were presenting me with a grand prize: himself.


I laughed and rolled my eyes at him, but he was right. I did have new friends. While I was unsure about Brittany and her posse, I at least had Justin. One friend was enough for now. “Thanks,” I said sheepishly, wiping the rest of the tears from my face. “What did you come over for anyway?”


He shrugged. “I don’t know...I just wanted to get out of the house for a bit.”


I narrowed my eyes at him, then glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table which read 1:24 AM. I looked back to Justin and shook my head at him. “I don’t think so,” I teased. “People only come over this late for a booty call.”


“Well, if you insist…” he sighed, grabbing his shirt by the hem. He started to pull it over his head but I swatted at him playfully. “You wish,” I scoffed. “I’m definitely not a ‘booty call’ kind of girl, not anymore.”


I couldn’t help but to laugh at the expression on his face. He rose an eyebrow at me. “Anymore?” he asked with a chuckle. “You really used to do the whole booty call thing?”


I scoffed again. Did it not exist in tiny towns? “Oh yeah,” I laughed. “I used to be a whore,” I admitted, unashamed. As I talked, I suddenly remembered the bottle of vodka hidden under the bed. I crawled to where it was and pulled it out, offering it up to him. With a sneer, he gladly took it.


“Nobody really does that around here,” he said before taking a swig, confirming my suspicions. “I mean...kids our age don’t really do it. No one wants to sneak into the other person’s house, cause everyone and their mother owns a gun. Now the older people…” he trailed off with a laugh, then handed me the bottle. I took a sip. “Sure, nobody gets divorced,” he said, reminding me of our conversation at lunch. “But you wouldn’t believe the amount of husbands that have side pieces. They think if they take their dates to the motel in the next town over, no one will know.” He shook his head in disbelief while I sat there and absorbed it all.


“How do you know all this?” I asked incredulously. Instead of answering me, he rose an eyebrow and waited. “Ah,” I sighed after a moment, memories of my conversations with him and Brittany coming back to me. “Right. Small town.” Everyone knows everything, how could I forget?


He laughed as he took the bottle from me, then leaned back on one elbow and took another sip. “You’re catching on Harp.”


As the night, or rather morning, carried on, we moved to the bed. We sat up, propped up on my vast collection of pillows, and talked as we watched Netflix. We continued to talk on and off, the conversation dying and coming back to life as I would suddenly get absorbed into whatever was on the TV, then grow bored of it again. Justin didn’t seemed to mind though. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so comfortable around someone.


Apparently I was comfortable enough to doze off. Maybe it was the alcohol, though I was only slightly buzzed. I didn’t even remember falling asleep, but the next thing I knew Justin was shaking me awake. “Hey...hey Harper! Psst, Harper wake up,” he whispered, shaking me gently.


I rolled over and whined loudly, to which he laughed at.


“Harper, listen to me,” he whispered. I turned my head and squinted at him with one eye open. It was way too bright in here. “Hey, I gotta go. We fell asleep, if my parents find out I left, I’m dead,” he explained.


I gave him a nod and closed my eyes. “See you later,” I grumbled, not even sure if he could understand me. I didn’t care all that much, I just wanted to go back to sleep.


But that wasn’t in the cards for me. Almost immediately after Justin left, there was a knock on my bedroom door. I groaned into my pillow. “What?” I called out.


“Hey, Harper…” my dad said, sounding ridiculously nervous and awkward. “You um...you have a visitor, sweetie.”


I looked up at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 8:23 AM. Who the fuck was coming to see me this early on a Saturday? With a groan, I rolled slowly out of bed. I stopped to push the vodka bottle under the bed and glanced at myself in the mirror. Not too bad looking. I pulled my hair out of the Medusa looking bun on the top of my head and let it fall in tangled curls down my back. That was a little better.


I yanked the door out of the way, ready to cuss out whoever came to see me this early. “Dad, who the fuck---” I stopped once I realized who was here.


“I’ll let you kids, uh….yeah,” he muttered, awkwardly excusing himself. Things only got worse once my dad and Blake saw the hatred on my face. Dad quickly shuffled off to continue his ritual Saturday morning housework.


“What are you doing here?” I asked, though the words came out so cold it sounded more like an accusation.


“I missed you,” he laughed, as if it were obvious. He stepped in and pulled me into a hug, which I didn’t reciprocate. I stood still, trying to keep myself calm. He pulled back and held me at arm’s length, smiling down at me as if nothing was wrong. “I had to come see you. You wouldn’t text me back.”


I laughed and pulled away from his embrace. “You wouldn’t come say goodbye to me,” I countered. “That was all I wanted. You to care enough to say goodbye to me before I left.”


“I-I did care,” he replied. “I do care.”


I laughed again as I sat down on the bed. “No you don’t. You don’t care and that’s fine,” I told him. “I don’t want you to care. I’m over it. I’m over this, I’m over us.”


His eyebrows furrowed at my words. “What do you mean you’re over us?” he asked. “Are you breaking up with me?”


Naturally, before I could even answer, the porch door opened as Justin stepped in. “Hey Harp, sorry I---” His words came to a halt when he saw Blake standing at the door. “Oh. It’s you,” Justin laughed.


“Who the fuck is this?” Blake exploded, taking a step towards Justin, who put his hands up in front of himself innocently.


I jumped up to get in front of them. “Dude, you don’t wanna start anything,” Justin laughed, taking a step back. Which of course only made Blake bow up even bigger.


“Jesus Christ guys,” I grumbled, wedging myself between them and pushing them both back. “Tone down the testosterone, stop it,” I complained. I pushed Blake back and turned to face Justin. “What do you need?”


“I, uh, left my phone,” Justin said, pointing to the bed.


Quickly, I made my way to the bed, throwing pillows around until I found his phone. I handed it over to him with a smile. “I’ll see you later, okay?” I told him.


He glanced at Blake over my shoulder, concern darkening his eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.


“Positive. I can handle this,” I said reassuringly.


“Alright,” he said, giving me a nod though he didn’t seem totally convinced. “I’ll see you later.”


I watched him as he walked out the door and through the yard towards his house. As quickly as he came, he was gone.


“Who the fuck was that?” Blake asked, finally exploding.


I rolled my eyes. I definitely didn’t miss the jealousy. “None of your business,” I told him, turning back to face him. “And I think you should go.”


“What, seriously? I just got here,” he yelled, his temper rising.


I rolled my eyes, sitting back down on the bed. “I don’t care. I’m tired and I want to go back to bed. It’s over. Go home.”


He huffed and puffed, clearly at a loss for words. Finally, with his hands on his hips, he settled for, “Whatever. Fuck you bitch.” And with that, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind himself.


Well, at least that was over. With a very tired sigh, I pulled the covers back and crawled under them, stuffing my head under a pillow.

Seriously. Fuck my life.

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