Ryan shrugs and gives a quick smile before turning his attention back to whatever seems to be interesting him on his phone. Elise ribs him with her elbow, and he rolls his eyes and puts his phone down on the table to give me a proper smile before turning back to her. “There, satisfied?” he says.
She looks at him with wide eyes, then turns back to me. “Ryan is my ex boyfriend. I just dumped him because he was rude to my new friend Kensi,” she says, and Ryan sighs deeply, this time putting his phone back in his pocket and standing with his hand outstretched.
“Sorry, just stressed. I’m waiting to hear about a college thing. And I’m not an asshole, despite what she says,” Ryan says, tilting his head toward Elise.
I shake both of their hands across the table, and spare a glance back out the window as I do. The make-out session seems to have ended, but Owen is still looking at me. His arm is slung around the girl’s shoulders, and his thumb is caressing her bare skin.
“It’s because the Harper brothers have wild hearts,” Willow says. For some reason, her statement sparks a collective sigh from her friends. “What? You guys know it’s true.”
“No, Will. None of us know it’s true. We just humor you. And you know I hate it when you start talking this mystical crap,” Jess says, standing with his empty tray. “Anyone need anything to drink? I’m not sure I can hear the wild heart speech one more time.”
Willow pulls a pinch of crust from her sandwich and throws it at Jess before he turns to leave. He catches it at his stomach and throws it back, smirking while he does. “All right, I’ll be back in about seven minutes. That’s how long this usually takes,” he says. Willow squints her eyes at him and shakes her head as he leaves.
“Wild hearts?” I ask, bringing her back to the point. I’ll admit, I’m curious.
“Willow thinks because she was there when it all happened—that she knows, has some sort of inside knowledge on why the Harper boys are so fucked up,” Elise says, pulling open a bag of chips. She offers me one, but I shrug it off. I’m too intrigued by this story now to eat.
“There’s more than just Owen?” I ask, wondering why the house next door always seems so quiet.
“Yep, there are three. Owen’s the middle brother. His older brother James is a real loser—total druggie. And his younger brother Andrew is a freshman. You’ll see him around sometimes,” Elise says.
My stomach sinks a little knowing that there are more of them living next door to me, and I turn to look out the window again. Owen’s attention is finally on his friends, but his arm is still around that girl, his thumb still stroking her arm like he’s keeping her on a leash, reminding her that he’s here and he’ll get back to her later.
“So drugs…is that what makes them wild?” I ask.
“Ohhhhh no,” Willow says, piling the remnants of her sandwich and the half-eaten apple up on her tray. “That happened later. And I’m pretty sure it’s just James that’s a druggie. Their problems started a long time ago, though.”
Willow scoots forward, glancing once over her shoulder, and I feel like I’m learning some dark secret. With a slightly lowered voice, she starts to explain. “We were five, maybe not quite. And there used to be this carnival that happened every year—the apple fest. Well, I was there with my cousins, because they usually had cool rides and games and stuff. I was in line waiting for my turn to throw the rings at the bottles when my aunt grabbed ahold of my arm and pulled me close to her body. She was trying to shield my eyes, but she was too caught up in everything happening to do a very good job. I saw everything.”
“I’m confused. What to you mean? What did you see?” I ask. Willow’s storytelling sucks. I’m starting to understand why Jess left. I’d leave too if I already knew how this ended. But I don’t; so I’m glued to my seat.
“Well, Owen’s dad was Bill Harper. He was sort of known as the town’s crazy man. He talked to himself and did a lot of weird things—like posting strange signs in the back of his car telling people to leave him alone. Anyhow, apparently he finally snapped, and when my aunt pulled me away from the games, I looked up at the Ferris wheel, where everyone else was looking, and I saw Bill Harper standing out on one of the steel beams, about a hundred and fifty feet in the air. He was yelling out these crazy things; none of it made sense.”
“What does this have to do with Owen?” I ask, my periphery catching a glimpse of my tall, mysterious neighbor still standing outside.