Twist Of Fate

Not A Bad Idea

"Cookie, you have a boyfriend?!" Dad yells in my ear.
"Hi, thanks I'm fine." I say, rolling my eyes. Harry twirls a strand of my hair around his index finger.
"Hi! Is that what you say? Cookie, your culture is seeping out of your body day by day and I'm sure that boyfriend of yours has a great part in helping you do so." I scoff and shake my head at my dad's stupid-ass presumptions.
"Dad, I choose what culture I follow and don't you dare speak about my boyfriend in that manner. Oh and by the way, he has a name; Harry Styles." Harry kisses my shoulder, but I shrug his face off it. "Not now," I murmur to Harry. Pouting, Harry continues to twirl a strand of my hair around his finger.
"Harry Styles? I-Isn't he that famous singer who you had a crush on?" Dad asks, confusion lacing his tone.
"Yes, dad." I smile at the thought. Years ago, Harry and I dating was just a fragment of my imagination - wishful thinking. However, today it's reality.
"What're you doing, Cookie? I know, you're ruining your life, that's what."
"Dad, you have no right to say anything regarding my life. Wonder where you've been for the past eighteen years," I scoff.
"Beside you, that's where! I'm your dad, Cookie. Don't think I don't love you. I just want what's best for you." I clench my fists, wanting to hit something. Reading my brain, Harry offers me a pillow and I punch my fists against it. The phone's on speaker, so he can hear everything that my dad's saying. Plus, my hands are free to punch this goddamn pillow.
"Sure, dad, you love me a lot. You love me so much that I only received your texts on Saturday, asking me if I was free and if I'd come over. You love me so much that you haven't invested a dime in my education, or lifestyle. Great love, dad." I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "If only I'd told you what I feel before, we wouldn't be having this conversation today."
"What you feel? Cookie, you love me, like I love you."
"No, I thought I did. I loved an image that I formed, not the dad that you are." My voice breaks toward the end, but of course, dad doesn't catch on. But Harry does.
"Bump, don't cry." Harry says, bringing me close to his chest.
"Is he there with you?! Is there a boy at your house? This is not the girl that I raised", dad says.
"You know what? You can take the image of the girl you raised and shove it up your-" Harry disconnects the call, before I can complete my sentence.
"Calm down, Bump." Harry says, lying down flat on his back and pulling me beside him. Since I'm lying lower on the bed, my head's resting on Harry's chest. My eyes soaking his shirt with unwanted tears.
"He's so...unreasonable, Harry." I sob, sniffing. "He thinks that he's been a perfect dad, but he hasn't."
"Yeah, I know that, Bumper."
"He's a jerk, Harry. If only I had said something regarding his behavior when I was young, he wouldn't be calling me today and thinking that I'm wrong. Harry, dad never abused me, or tortured me, but that doesn't mean he didn't hurt me. Dad hurt me with his actions, his...it's hard to explain." I burst out into another round of sobs. Harry comforts me with gentle strokes on the head and he occasionally cleans my nose with a tissue. I appreciate him for just letting me be, for not speaking and letting me think things through. I've tried time and time again to show dad my side of the story, but he doesn't care. He'll never understand, like before. So no more destroying my peace of mind by arguing time and time again with him.
"I'm not going to speak to him again," I say. "I'm going to block his number and stop letting him ruin me every day."
"Good," Harry whispers. "A man who doesn't understand your worth isn't worth your time, Bump."
"And you do, so you are." I stroke Harry's shirt-clad chest with my fingers.
"I better be, Bumper. Especially after I cleaned your snot-filled nose." Harry chuckles and so do I. "And I'll be happy to do it again."
"Good because I'm sure the opportunity will come up."
"Bumper, I was thinking about something yesterday." I groan, and look up at Harry. "What?"
"It's never good when you think," I murmur.
"Well, yesterday I got a great idea. Why don't you go on tour with us?"
"Yeah, your brain's useless."
"Hey, listen to my plan fully."
"Go on," I say.
"Since you're so good at choreographing, you could be our personal junior choreographer." I trace imaginary patterns on Harry's shirt. Faintly I can see the outline of his sparrow tattoos.
"No, I can't. Need to finish college and make my mom proud." I sit up and push my hair away from my face.
"Bump, have you ever done anything for yourself? Ever? Like, decided to go to publishing school, or something. Instead of medical college," Harry says.
"No," I shake my head. "It was out of the question. Mama wouldn't give me any money if I took that route and Harry, I don't have a lot saved. Now, mama pays for everything; bills, the house rent, even my fees. She says that I need to only focus on my studies and not worry about getting through."
"So you don't work?"
"No, because she doesn't allow me to. I know this sounds insane, me being eighteen and all, but it's true. Plus, Harry, I can't risk to lose my mother's blessings. She's the only close family I'm left with."
"I understand, Bumper and you don't sound insane. None of this does. Since your mother is well off and she can afford everything, it's fine if she doesn't want you to work. I understand," Harry looks at me with honesty and understanding. This is what I love about Harry, he doesn't judge me. He listens and then states his opinion. Which is good. "But you could not tell her." Eyes wide, I stare at Harry, as if he's stated that cows can fly.
"H-Harry..." I pout, wondering if it's such a bad idea. He hears me out, so I should hear him out. "What do you mean?"
"I could help you. I mean, I have some contacts with people who are into the publishing business. We could send them your manuscripts and...I think I'm a genius!" Harry exclaims, grinning. "It's perfect, Bump! This could work. It will work." Harry sits up, gently placing my head on a pillow. "Mus, let's do it."
"Harry, I don't know." I shrug my shoulders. The plan doesn't sound bad, but if mama finds out...
"Bumper, let's try it out. Come on," Harry whines. "What's the worst that can happen? Your book will get rejected." He shakes his head. "I know it won't, I just do." Sighing, I feel Harry's optimism and energy toward this idea, seep into my body.
"Maybe it'll work," I mumble. Harry grabs my hands and gives them a tight squeeze.
"Then let's try it out, okay? Tomorrow, email me your transcripts." I nod my head, and Harry covers my mouth with his.