“Well, tell your friend not to come back here if he’s going to be starting fights,” the guy said.
“Will do,” Harper promised him with a smile, and the two guys went back into the bar, leaving Daniel and Harper to handle Alex.
“I don’t need your help,” Alex muttered, then turned to look at Harper.
He smelled faintly of alcohol. His jeans had holes in them, and his dark bangs kept falling into his eyes. Not to mention that he’d hit his head pretty hard on the sidewalk, and Harper could see the blood through his dark hair.
“Alex, you’re bleeding,” Harper said. “We should take you to the hospital.”
“I’m fine,” he said and managed to push Daniel off him.
“At least let me look at it,” Harper insisted. Alex looked like he was about to protest, so she added, “If you don’t let me look at it, I’m calling 911, and they’ll look instead. And I’m certain they wouldn’t approve of your underage drinking.”
Alex groaned but walked over to a nearby bench. He sat down with a heavy thud and repeated, “I’m fine. I don’t need your help.”
“Alex, you’re clearly not fine,” Harper said, sitting down next to him. “You’re fighting, and I’ve never known you to drink before. How did you even get into the bar? You’re only eighteen.”
He waved her off. “If you work down at the docks, they let you drink. That’s the only thing that matters.”
She parted his hair to get a better look, but he appeared to have only a small cut. It was bleeding some, but it wasn’t serious enough to warrant stitches.
“Alex.” Harper dropped her hands back into her lap and watched him. “You should really go get checked out. You might have a concussion or something.”
“Oh, like you even care?” Alex sneered at her. “All you care about is that stupid bitch sister of yours.”
A couple with a small child and a dog walked by just as Alex was swearing. They gave him a wide berth, and Daniel apologized and offered them a polite smile.
“Alex!” Harper snapped. She leaned back on the bench. “I know that’s not your fault and you don’t mean that, but you can’t talk about Gemma that way. Not around me.”
“Harper, maybe we should continue this conversation somewhere else,” Daniel said, motioning to more people across the street. It wasn’t late, and it was a nice night, so Capri was still somewhat busy.
Harper rubbed her temple and looked over at Alex. He had hunched forward, burying his hands in his thick hair. Despite his attempts to cover it up, Harper didn’t think she’d ever seen him in more pain. Whatever was going on with him, it looked like torture.
“We can’t leave him alone,” Harper said at last and looked up at Daniel. “If he has a concussion, we need to keep an eye on him. And I definitely can’t take him back to my house.”
“My place it is, then,” Daniel said.
“Why should I go to your house?” Alex asked.
“Because you just got thrown out of the only bar in Capri that would serve you drinks, and I have beer at my house,” Daniel said.
With that, Alex got to his feet. “Let’s get going, then.”
“My car’s parked down there.” Harper pointed to it, but lingered behind to whisper to Daniel, “He shouldn’t be drinking any more.”
“That’s okay, because I don’t really have beer.” Daniel smirked at her. “But once he’s out on the island, what is he gonna do?”
“Thank you.” She smiled up at him. “I’m really sorry about this. I know this wasn’t what you had planned for tonight.”
“I really didn’t have that much planned,” Daniel said. “But your friend needs you. You should take care of him.”
“Thanks for being so understanding.” She kissed him on the cheek.
“Are we going or what?” Alex shouted from beside her car.
Alex hadn’t been that drunk in the first place, so the boat ride seemed to sober him up. With Daniel up front, steering The Dirty Gull across the bay, Harper and Alex sat down on the benches in the back. He leaned over the rail, letting the cool breeze and ocean spray blow over him.
“I’m sorry for being such a jerk tonight,” Alex said finally. He turned back toward her, and even in the fading light she could see the pained expression on his face.
“You’re not being a jerk,” Harper said.
“Yeah, I’m drunk, and I’m an idiot.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry I called you a bitch earlier.”
“You didn’t call me a bitch,” Harper corrected him. “That was Gemma.”
“I’m so sorry.” Alex rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“What is going on with you?” Harper asked, realizing that now might be her chance to get to the bottom of things.