CHAPTER IX. CLOSET
It was the week later, Monday November 10th, when double math had ended and lunch soon approached. I found our canteen table and took a seat, being the first there. Nico arrived afterwards, then Dua and Lana. We sat and spoke about our classes for a few minutes, before we were promptly joined by Kendrick and Kian. I glanced around the cafeteria, wondering if Harry had even attended Foundered High that day. My thoughts were answered ten minutes later, when Harry arrived to the table holding three cartons of fries. He places them gently into the centre of the table, I notice a piece of hair fall over his forehead and he catches my stare.

'It's my turn getting fries today.' He states, but it seemed silent enough that it was only aimed to me. I just grin in reply. He takes the seat opposite me, tiredly rubbing his eyes and taking a look around the cafeteria.

'This whole investigation into Blake Redson is so freaky.' Kendrick suddenly mentions, Harry and I both automatically sit up in our seat. I look towards him, he's already gaping at me, but I shake our eye contact away to avoid suspicion; opting instead to stare at the table. Harry and I were finally getting along better than ever; I wondered how long it would last this time. 

'Yeah, it's so weird that his body was found on halloween too.' Dua chimes in, 'Who would have thought that? It's such a coincidence.'

'Who do you think has done it?' Kian questions, throwing another fry into his mouth. The memory of Harry in the phone box flashes into my mind.

'Somebody strange, who lives in the woods and preys on younger people.' Lana interjects, Kian raises an eyebrow at her answer.

'No, it has to be somebody sneaky. Oh, and someone who has easy access to weapons. A rich guy, perhaps?' Nico replies. Kian deeply chuckles before nudging Harry.

'You murdered somebody, Haz?' He asks. Harry is caught off guard.

'What - Oh, - plenty of people.' He jokes along and Kian joins his chorus of forced laughter. 

'I just can't believe something like that happened around here, in the Bridgemont Valley side of Maine.' Dua takes the attention away from Harry and he seems relieved. 

'Who do you think has done it?' Nico quietly asks from beside me. I turn to face him, a friendly smile on his face and a nervous gleam in his eyes. 

'I'm not too sure actually.' I answer, turning away to find Harry watching me. He turns to Nico with distaste before looking around the cafeteria again. 

'It's so crazy how this all happened once I'd moved here. Bridgemont Valley already seems like a crazy place to live.' He replies and I chuckle. Harry's stare flashes to me once I'd laughed and I shrug at him, wondering why he was staring. He just looks elsewhere. 

Lunch eventually ended and I was heading towards last period at 2pm, when I felt somebody grab my arm. The urge to scream came upon me as the hand pulled me into the janitor's closet. The urge escaped, however, when I peered up to find Harry standing before me. I rolled my eyes as he closed the door behind us, clicking the lock into place. 

'What now Harry?'

'I think we should tell the police.'

'Seriously?' My eyes widen. I wasn't expecting that. 

'Yeah.'

'What's changed your mind?' I ask, his eyes looked glaringly green from the bright closet light above us. His irises were enlarged, but only a little, most likely from panic or cigarettes. 

'I'm so paranoid, Adriana. I can't sleep at night, I feel like the police are watching me or, maybe, even the murderer himself.' He starts. 

'Himself?' I interrupt. 

'What?'  

'How do you know it's a him?' 

'I don't. I just assumed.' He shakes his head. 'But anyway, I hate being alone in my home. It's too large, it feels like anybody could be inside and I won't find them for days.' 

'Nobody likes a bragger.' I joke but he didn't even grin.

'Shut up.' He interjects with a serious tone. 'Since my dad left for the business trip, I've been so scared that somebody will just break in and kill me. I'm too young and beautiful to die, Adriana, you know that.' 

'Wow.' I can't help but to find his words amusing. 

'I was kidding. But in all seriousness, I'm losing my mind.' 

'Is that an invitation then?'

'To my mind?' His eyebrows furrow. 

'No, to your home, to keep you company.' 

'When you say it like that.' He smirks; his overall demure loosens up. 

'Oh stop, Harry.' I playfully slap his upper arm. Then, it hits me how small the closet is and how we're standing only metres away from each other. I wonder why Harry finds so much interest in speaking to me, and then the overwhelming feeling of escaping the closet washes over me. 'I'll see you later.' I turn to the door and reach for the lock, but he gently grips my wrist before I can unlock it. The contact from his hand ignites the skin of my arm with... sparks?

'I'll meet you in the car park after school.' He confirms and I nod, before leaving the closet once and for all. 

He was true to his word. As soon as I had left the school grounds and stepped onto the car park, I immediately noticed Harry. He was stood leaning against the side of his Mercedes-Benz, suave sunglasses over his eyes, and a newspaper in his hand. The sun cast a bright flash of warm light over the hood of his car. His head was down, I could see that he was reading the paper, and his hair was falling over his forehead. I hurried over to him, realising that he was reading a local newspaper; the breaking story being about Blake Redson. I snatch it away from him.

'Harry, you shouldn't be reading this here.' I warn, holding it in my palm. He reaches for it back. 

'Why? It's only the newspaper.' 

'It looks suspicious.' 

'I'm a young boy catching up on the latest news; nothing crazy about that. Give it back.' He tries once again to grab it but I step away. I move around the back of the car towards the passenger door. 

'You can read it when we get back to your place.' 

'So who's the crazy one now?' He mocks and I roll my eyes, climbing into the passenger seat. 'Won't even let me read a damn newspaper.' 

We were in Harry's home by 4pm, and I couldn't help but find the whole situation fishy. Something about Harry needing me here brought possibilities of bad intentions to mind. But I had to trust him, he had apologised for what he had previously done and we had made amends. Once we were stood inside Harry's hallway, we stopped in our tracks and the realisation of not knowing what to do hit us both. 

'I'm going to continue the literature assignment.' I finally state, he turns to me with a nod. 'You can join me if you like.' My hand reaches for one of the wooden dining chairs, pulling it out and taking a seat, using the other to hold my backpack. Harry sits down across from me.

'I don't know if you've realised this yet, but I don't do schoolwork.' He says and I roll my eyes. 'I don't need to.' 

I stay silent as I pull out my pencil case, along with the assignment, placing it all before me on the table. Trying to work soon proved difficult. Harry's eyes wouldn't shake from observing me, and I found it awkward. Every time I flipped a page, I'd catch his view. 

'Are you sure you don't have anything to do?' I try to clarify, dropping my pen in defeat. 

'Nope.' He plainly states. 

'Not even math, science or - maybe history?' I ask. 

'No. I don't need to work. I already have all the money in the world.' He chuckles but my serious expression doesn't falter. He notices this.

'I don't like when you say things like that.' 

'You don't?' His amusement fades and he grows solemn. 

'No.' 

'I'm sorry.' 

'I don't think many other people like it either.' I tell him, honestly. 

'Damn, if you don't want to hangout with me, you could just say.' 

'I do want to hangout with you, Harry. I wouldn't be here otherwise.' 

'Doesn't seem like it.' He folds his arms, like a three year old having a tantrum. 

'You can be really nice sometimes, but bragging doesn't really get you anywhere. At least not with me.' I tell him, suddenly feeling like his mother. The question of whether Harry even had a mother popped into my mind. Maybe that was why he acted this way; because he had no maternal guidance in empathy, just powerful leadership from his vacuum-inventor father. 

'And where is it that I want to get with you?' His arms loosen, his head lazily held up on his fist instead. 

'I don't know. Good friends?' I offer, a look of disappointment floods his face and I raise an eyebrow. 

'We've seen a dead body together, how much closer can we get?' He laughs. Another mention of Blake causes an odd feeling to wash over me and I find myself automatically standing up from the chair. 

'Look, forget it. I think I'm going to leave.' I throw everything into my backpack and step around the table but I'm pulled back by his hand around my wrist. It seemed that Harry enjoyed holding my wrist for some reason. I turn to find his emerald eyes boring into mine and I freeze. 

'I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to offend you. I'll stop bragging. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.' He suddenly tells me as I stand over him. His thumb draws circles over my arm, and his grip, though soft, is tightened. 

It was that moment, as I watched Harry's face fill with yearning and felt his fingers hold tightly onto my arm, that I realised something permanent had been established between me and Harry. Even if one of us would move away in the future or if we merely drifted apart, we'd still remember each other and what we had discovered on Halloween night. It seemed permanently etched into our brains, and there was no way of escaping it. Whenever we passed a newspaper, Blake would pop into our minds; whenever we'd see a forest, Blake would be lying there; and whenever we saw a knife, Blake's stabbed chest would haunt our dreams. I could have left Harry there all alone in his mansion, frightened and worried of what could happen, or I could have sat back down and kept him company, like I would have expected him to do for me. 

I chose the last option.