Introspective Strangers [h.s.]

Chapter 37

Chapter 37

"I thought you said you didn't smoke."

I looked up from where I was leaning against the side of the car towards Harry, who was walking toward me out of the house with his hands in his pockets. I gave him a grim smile before returning back to the cigarette at hand.

After the row with my sister, I had walked back to her house where I sat in Harry's car for a bit to wait for him. When I realized that he could be a while, I had found my sister's cigarette pack still hidden behind one of the potted plants on the porch and taken it upon myself to pass the time as such.

"Does it bother you?" I asked, looking toward my feet and kicking at a loose pebble under my toes. Not that I really cared. When had I ever been one to change who I was or what I did based on the opinion of a man? Never.

Harry leaned against the hood of the car beside me, letting out a small groan as he stretched his legs out in front of him. I wondered briefly if Carter had put him through hell today and made a mental note to ask about it later so that I could kick his ass.

"No," he responded with a shrug and reached to take the cigarette from between my fingers. Before I could object, he brought it to his own lips. "Just wish you would share."

I gaped at him, knocking it out of his mouth and onto the ground. "Don't do that!" I hissed, "You'll get addicted, idiot."

He laughed, bracing both of his arms on the car before leaning his head back and exhaling the remains of the smoke in his mouth. "And you won't?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, before rolling my eyes with a huff. "What can I say? This town makes me revert back to my old bad habits, I guess."

As if on cue, the front door opened again. I groaned as I glanced toward my father and Carter, who strode out and were engaged in some animated sort of conversation that I wanted no part of. Harry, as if sensing my apprehension, rested a reassuring hand on my thigh. I wasn't in the mood to shrug him off.

"Maysie," Carter grinned as he approached us, arms outstretched as if to embrace me.

"Don't call me that," I muttered and wrapped my arms tighter around myself.

"Mary," my dad said as he approached beside him. "Be nice. Carter just worked the whole day to prepare for your sister's wedding. It's the least you could do."

"So did Harry," I snapped. "And it's his brothers' wedding too, he didn't just do it for Eve."

My father merely ignored my words and instead diverted his attention toward our feet, where he frowned. With an exaggerated sniff, he asked, "Are you smoking again?"

"It was mine," Harry said before I could respond and I shot him a glance, to which he gave a small shrug.

"Mm," was my dad's only response, "You should quit. It's a nasty habit."

"I'll take it into consideration," Harry murmured and for some reason, I instinctively reached for his hand, gripping his fingers in my own. He briefly glanced down, but I didn't turn to look at him, nor did I have a reason for why I even grabbed his hand in the first place.

Like I had told him, this town drives me crazy.

When I looked back up at my dad and Carter, their attention was on our conjoined hands as well. For a split second, I slackened my hold and debated pulling away to prevent any further questions, but Harry merely took it as an invitation to knit our fingers together. He gave my hand a squeeze as he did so.

My father was the first to clear his throat.

"You haven't unpacked your stuff at home, Mary." he noted, "I know that you and your sister were there earlier. The spare room – er, your room is ready for you to stay in this weekend," he stole a glance at my companion before adding, "And the couch in the living room is free."