Chapter 3
Harley loved having a best friend.
It had taken Ivy a minute to warm up to the idea, but that was fine by Harley. One month after that night— and lord above, if Harley didn’t still think about it sometimes— and now Harley saw the green woman pretty consistently. They even set up times to meet, because Ivy said Harley couldn’t just be showing up everywhere without notice.
They studied together twice a week, which really, was super duper useful for Harley because sometimes she had trouble maintaining focus. It wasn’t that she was stupid— in fact, nearly all her professors told Harley how bright she was. It was more that she got distracted. Like, the other day she was trying to study for a psych exam when she noticed she lost the pencil sharpener for the pencils on her desk and then twenty minutes later Harley was at the mall. Oops.
Not that she didn’t get distracted studying with Ivy, too. Like, looking at Ivy’s full lips as she chewed the end of her pen, mouth twisted in a scowl. Or those dark eyebrows pulling together, a slight crease between them, when there was a hard problem. Harley knew Ivy was really struggling with an assignment when she pulled those long waves up, showcasing her graceful neck.
That was A-okay, though. Being distracted by Ivy was way better than being distracted by anything else.
They didn’t only study, either. Ivy had let Harley drag her to this new boba shop on campus, acting put-out about it the entire time but Harley could tell she secretly loved the drink she got. And she had come to Harley’s dorm and healed Jefferson— the succulent was alive and well now— and even wrote Harley care instructions in her sharp, neat handwriting.
Having a best friend was fantabulistic. She even let Harley say words like fantabulistic.
Harley was practically skipping on her way back from cheerleading practice, which was sayin’ something, considering her coach didn’t mess around. She paused when she saw some wildflowers growing out of a crack in the sidewalk and snapped a picture.
H: Flowers for you
I: Do not pluck those, Quinn.
As if Harley would ever make that mistake again. She had received a lecture from the woman for thirty minutes about plant life.
H: Only virtual bouquets from now on, sugar. Don’t worry
I: Good
And then:
I: They’re pretty, Quinn.
Harley smiled the entire way back to her dorm. She was floating on cloud nine so much she didn’t even notice Joker, sitting on her bed, until she was halfway in the door.
“Puddin’.” Harley drew up short. A strange pit grew in her stomach. Joker had been more— irritable, lately. Harley tried not to be obnoxious, but it seemed everything she did just set her puddin’ more on edge. “How was practice?”
“Fine.” He made an impatient gesture with his hand and Harley strode over, standing between his knees. His hands gripped her waist hard. “You took forever getting back. Where were you?”
“Oh. Practice ran a little late cause coach wanted us to try this new formation. Ya wouldn’t believe it, actually, but—“
“Harley.”
“You.” Harley enunciated, feeling her heart rate pick up. Joker tried to help her sound less like some idiot with no education, but Harley was continually slipping up. “I meant you. Sorry, puddin’.”
His hands tightened. “We’re supposed to have a date tonight.”
“I know! I even got a new outfit and everythin’— everything.”
“We were supposed to go on a date tonight but you’re fucking late.” Joker stood up and Harley almost stumbled at the suddenness of it. He wasn’t a small man and Harley felt the knot in her stomach grow tighter.
“Puddin—“
“You always fucking do this. Do you even care about me? Respect me?”
Harley cupped his cheeks in her hands. He was turning red.
“Course I do, puddin’. I didn’t— I lost track of time and really, ain’t—“
“Can you speak like a normal person,” Joker spat, wrenching his face away. “Jesus Christ. I had a bad day at practice and came to pick you up anyway, all ready for our date, and you’re not here and then arrive talking like a fucking idiot. You didn’t even ask how my day was.”
“I wasn’t— I mean…” Harley blinked rapidly, trying to get her thoughts together before she spoke. Her accent was always worse when she was upset. “Of course I care about your day. I’m sorry about practice. I didn’t even notice the time, I swear, puddin’. Tell me how your day—“
Joke shoved her away, hard. Harley tripped over her own feet before keeling forward, her temple slamming into the corner of her desk. Pain blossomed, bright and fast, and Harley stayed crumpled on the floor. Joker loomed over her, his lips pulled in a sneer.
“Jesus Christ, I can’t be here right now.” He shook his head in disgust before striding away, the door slamming behind him.
Harley stayed on the ground.
She didn’t cry. She hadn’t, really, not since that first couple of times. Everything had started so— so good, between her and her Mista J.
Joker had seen Harley across the field at one of their summer practices, before Harley had officially started her freshman year, and came jogging over. You’re gorgeous, you know that? He had said. Go on a date with me.
No one ever really gave Harley attention like that. Asked for a date— like this was the 50s, like Harley was worth the time— and not just some quickie in the back of the car. Joker had brought her flowers. He cooked dinner for them at his house. He was older, and handsome, a star on the football team— and he had chosen her.
The first time, it was Harley’s fault. Really.
They had been watching a movie and the actress came on screen and Harley wolf-whistled. A dame like that, she had joked. But she shouldn’t have because she was dating Joker and that was wrong and really— Harley deserved the bruises ringed around her throat for that. Besides, Joker had apologized so much the next day, even cried.
It didn’t happen that often. But lately, it had been happening more and more. The happy times were few and far between, and Harley wished she knew what she did wrong so she could fix it. No one had ever loved her like Joker loved her. Had never given her the time.
Harley pulled herself up and blinked the dizziness out of her eyes. She focused on Jefferson, alive and thriving in her windowsill.
“Enjoyin’ the sun, sugar?”
Jefferson didn’t answer, because he was a succulent, but Harley was pretty sure if he could Jefferson would have said fuck yes.
“I’ll take real good care of ya now, yeah?” Harley brought herself eye level with Jefferson. Her head throbbed and her hips ached where Joker had grabbed them. “Ignore that little tiff between mommy and daddy. He doesn’t mean it, right?” Right? “Mista J just gets a little upset sometimes, is all. He loves me.”
He loves me.
Harley tried to hold onto that, even though lately, she had been feeling it less and less. She ran her shaky fingers over the collar at her throat. Joker loved her. If Harley just… could be better, he would go back to giving her flowers and forehead kisses and touching her so gentle.
He loves me.
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“What the hell happened to your face?”
Harley smiled, but it was nothing like her usual ones. She sank down into the booth across from Ivy, dark bags underneath her eyes. Her hair was in two loose pigtails that most of it was falling out of, and she had a giant university cheer hoodie on that was practically swallowing her. Ivy forgot how small Harley was sometimes, when the woman’s personality was so loud.
“Tripped and banged my head up real good,” Harley said, lifting a shoulder. “I can be clumsy, sometimes.”
She had a giant bruise at the right side of her forehead, a nasty looking cut in the center of it.
“Did you go to the clinic?” Ivy asked, eyeing the injury. “You could have a concussion.”
“Nah, no concussion.” Harley smiled again, but it was all wrong. “Cheerleader, remember? I know what a concussion feels like.”
Ivy wanted to push before reminding herself that Harley wasn’t her responsibility. Sure, they were… friends, now— but Ivy wasn’t her mother. If people didn’t want to take proper care of themselves, that was their business. Ivy certainly wouldn’t be worrying about internal brain bleeds or anything like that.
“Ready for your big test, Pammy?” Harley blinked those big blue eyes. “Want me to quiz ya— you?”
Ivy had found out the best way to keep Harley on track when they were studying was to make the woman quiz her, or vice versa. Harley usually took to the task with a sort of blinding enthusiasm, putting on a mock English accent and adjusting an invisible monocle to be all-professor like, but today she just looked… tired.
Ivy hadn’t even known it was possible for Harley Quinn to get tired.
A month ago, she would have been singing praises to the universe. Today, she was just unnerved.
“I’m sick of being around humans today.” Ivy shut her textbook. “Too much chatter.”
Harley looked down at the table. “Oh— I. Alright. D’ya wanna meet up later this week then or…”
Harley trailed off and Ivy realized once again the woman was not catching her hints. She almost gave up right then— comforting people wasn’t Ivy’s domain. She never even wanted to comfort people. Her parents had been emotionally distant at best, neglectful at worst. Ivy didn’t do emotions, and Quinn was basically a 5’3 human being stuffed full of them.
Just leave it, Ivy thought to herself.
Harley was tracing patterns on the table with her thumbnail. Her hands were shaking slightly.
“Come on, Quinn. Let’s go.”
Her head snapped upward, expression painfully hopeful.
“With you?”
Ivy couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. “Obviously.”
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Ivy wasn’t sure why she brought Harley here. Obviously, all rules flew out the window where one Harley Quinn was concerned, because Ivy had never even brought Selina. Selina, who before Quinn, could be considered Ivy’s only friend. They had grown up in the same social circles, both with a disdain for the rich, upper-crust people they were surrounded with. Both with a little too much interest in beautiful women.
“This is— it’s— stupendabulous!” Harley spun around in a circle, arms thrown out.
They were in one of the forests bordering the university’s campus, in a clearing with a small natural spring, a riot of wildflowers, and trees hemming them in on every side. It was completely overgrown and wild and Harley— with her tangled, messy hair and unhinged smile— belonged there.
“Can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me, Ives.” Harley leaned over and shucked off her shoes. “Feel like I’m in Lord Of the Rings or somethin’.”
Ivy snorted in mild amusement. She climbed up on the same rock she always sat on, lounging back. The minute Harley had seen the clearing, she was back to her normal self. The sweatshirt she was wearing covered her denim shorts, which meant miles of pale leg was on display. Ivy wasn’t soulless. She could enjoy a beautiful woman.
Not that Ivy wanted a repeat, even if that was on the table. Which it wasn’t. Some days Ivy felt like every word out of the blonde’s mouth was puddin, puddin, puddin. She couldn’t even eat the food anymore.
“It’s the most perfect day ever.” Harley tipped back her head, soaking in the sun. “Glad you wanted a study break, Pammy. My mind was way too scattered to focus.”
“Bad night of sleep?” Ivy asked casually.
“Somethin’ like that.” Harley trailed her fingers over the flowers near her. “What are these?”
“Wild geranium, spring beauty, trillium.”
Harley grinned. “So cool.”
Most humans had zero respect or interest in nature. Harley, though… she listened when Ivy went on rants about recycling or told Harley to stop plucking pretty flowers. The blonde had even set up a recycling station in her room.
There were worse friends to have, Ivy supposed.
Even if Quinn was slightly (more than slightly) chaotic.
Harley bounced over and crawled onto the rock next to Ivy. It was barely big enough for the both of them to fit on, and Harley’s thigh pressed hot against Ivy’s. Up this close, Ivy could make out the faint freckles that dotted Harley’s cheeks and nose.
“This is real nice, Ives,” Harley breathed. “I’m glad we’re best friends.”
Ivy didn’t do best friends.
“Yeah,” she heard herself saying anyway. Harley tilted and pressed their shoulders together. “Me too.”
Harley turned, dark lashes over blue, blue eyes. That first night, at the club, the lighting was too dim for Ivy to fully appreciate them. Now, she knew they were the exact shade of the perennial blue delphinium, flowers that signified opening up, new beginnings.
Fuck. Ivy hated symbolism.