Read Online Side Effects May Vary by Julie Murphy - Free Book Online

Harvey.
    After his trip for seconds, Harvey ducked beneath the low-hanging light dangling above the kitchen table, and asked, “Do you want me to pick you up for school tomorrow?”
    â€œI think my mom wants to take me because it’s my first day back,” I lied, rubbing my hands up and down my arms trying to warm myself. I wasn’t ready to be alone with him yet.
    With a slice of pizza hanging from his mouth, he shrugged out of his zip-up hoodie and draped it around my shoulders. I resisted rolling my shoulders back and letting the jacket slip to the ground. Instead, I pulled the fabric tight around myself. It smelled like Harvey. Like spilled gasoline and produce and boy deodorant.
    Tonight, I was cold. Tomorrow, I would deal with Harvey.
    â€œAre you nervous?” he asked.
    â€œWhy would I be nervous?”
    He scooted his chair a little closer to me and took my hands from where they sat in my lap. Beneath the table, he held my fingers, warming them, and said, “I won’t let them near you. Not Celeste. Not Luke.”
    â€œDon’t. Just don’t.” I pulled my hands away and pushed my plate to the side and rested my cheek against the table, turning away from him. All that lay ahead of me tomorrow weighed on my shoulders and I could barely pick my head up. Beneath the table, he squeezed my knee. I jerked away. Harvey did too, doubling the gap between us. It hadn’t been so long ago that Harvey’s touch had been the only cure I’d wanted.
    Still, he sat silently by my side all night, reaching beneath the table for my fingers every so often. I wavered between hot and cold. Between wanting to lean into him and wanting to shoo him away. Our parents stayed huddled in the kitchen, their voices growing louder and more boisterous as the wine disappeared from their glasses.
    Finally, at a quarter to eleven, Harvey dug the keys out of his mom’s purse and escorted her to the car. On the porch, both my parents and Natalie wore rosy cheeks and drooping smiles as they said good night. Harvey hung back with me in the doorway.
    The January cold tinged his cheeks and nose red as he rubbed his hands together. “We can sit together at lunch tomorrow. And I was thinking we could do something this weekend. Dennis is going to ask out Lacy from work—she graduated last year, so I doubt it’ll happen. But if she says yes, I thought we could go with them. I guess, like, a double date or whatever. Make it less awkward for them.”
    I sucked in a breath and turned my gaze to our parents, still laughing, not quite ready to say good-bye. “It’s cold out. Take this,” I said, pulling off his jacket.
    â€œKeep it till tomorrow.”
    I shook my head. “I’m fine.”
    His jacket draped over his arm, he took a step forward and kissed the spot where my lips met my cheeks. “Happy birthday.” He paused. “I love you.”
    His words sucked the air out of my lungs. My heart pounded, echoing to every crevice of my body.
    He ran down the steps to his mom’s car, not waiting for me to say it back. “I’m going to warm it up,” he called to her, the keys dangling from his fingers.
    I slammed the front door behind me, my parents still outside. I ran upstairs and, in my room, I melted into my desk chair. I had Harvey, and I had him for good. Hadn’t that been all I wanted? To make those perfect moments last? But now I felt trapped, like a homeless person who’d been given their dream home only to suffer from intense wanderlust because we always want something until we have it.
    Â 
    I thought about something I could control—my hair. Or lack thereof.
    Since my treatment was suspended months ago, my brows had grown back and my hair was on the mend too. I’d kept shaving my head, though. I would have rather died bald than with some random wisps of hair. After finding out I was in remission, I’d stopped shaving my