I STRONGLY BELIEVED I WAS laughing much harder than necessary. Harry was back to sitting on the chair across from me and he watched with amusement clear on his face. He brought his coffee mug up to his lips but his eyes were still on me as he sipped the beverage. My laughter soon enough died down and I felt out of breath. I had been laughing at whatever was being said—even if it was not funny to begin with. It did not matter to Harry, though. He just sat back and watched. It almost made me feel like he was listening to my laughter, digesting it.

"There's something wrong with this coffee," he pointed out.

"Too much caffeine, perhaps?"

"Or drugs."

"I don't own drugs!"

"That's what all druggies say, you know, when they're about to do that smoking pot thing."

As soon as the words slithered off of his tongue, I was laughing again. I pushed my coffee mug out of the way because I was afraid I would accidentally knock it over. Harry joined in this time and the sound of both of us laughing made me laugh even harder. Our laughter mixed together did not sound very pleasant. Harry must have thought the same thing because his face had turned a bright shade of red. After a while, we were still laughing but not laughing at the same time. Our mouths were open but not a single sound was coming out.

What if Harry was right about the coffee?

Once Harry wiped away the single tear that had fallen from his eye, it was a sign for us to calm down. My chest ached from laughing and I felt idiotic for laughing at something that was not even funny to begin with. I pulled my coffee mug back and picked it up, taking a couple of sips of it. The warm liquid made me feel hotter than I already felt and I sat the mug back down on the table. Taking a sip of it was a bad idea and I felt like taking a very cold shower. Harry had not taken a sip of his coffee since our little laughing fit. He probably knew it would only make him feel worse.

I stood up and took my coffee mug to the kitchen. I hummed silently as I poured the liquid down the drain. I rinsed the mug out and placed it in the dishwasher. There were not many dishes in there but that did not surprise me. I closed the dishwasher to find Harry going toward the sink with his mug. He poured the rest of his out, too, and placed his mug in the dishwasher. My eyes widened when his arms wrapped around me for the second time today. I hesitated before patting his back a couple of times. Why was he hugging me? It made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

I was the first one to pull away from the hug and I asked with a smirk, "Is this going to become a regular thing? You hugging me all of the time?"

"Probably," he said.

"Go hug your girlfriend."

"Go hug John."

"He isn't home," I sighed.

"Your imaginary friend isn't home?" he asked and I nodded. "Wow, Sydney, what did you do? Threaten him with drugged up coffee?"

I tried to push him out of the kitchen but he moved too quickly. I only pushed the air and this disappointed me on so many levels. Harry chuckled and made his way back into the living room. I followed, out of curiosity, and saw that Greysen was almost finished with the desk. I smiled at the sight of it and made myself comfortable on the floor. I was not too close to Greysen but I was close enough to get a good view of what he was doing. He was screwing a nail into the wood with an electric screwdriver and I noticed the earphones in his ears. They immediately reminded me of how much Harry loved his music.

Harry sat down beside me and he stretched his legs out in front of him. He had taken his shoes off in the kitchen and white socks covered his feet. My feet were much smaller than his and my eyes wandered to look at his hands. Like his feet, his hands looked like giants compared to mine. I looked up at the ceiling and frowned. I had been ignoring him for weeks and now he was in my home—the one place where I felt like I could be alone and had some privacy. If Harry followed me here several times, had he followed me to other places? I did not go straight home everyday from work. The thought of him following me around Seattle made me cringe. I opened my mouth to ask him if he had followed me other places when Greysen clapped his hands, yanked his earphones out of his ears, and stood up.

"Finished!"

"Good job, buddy," Harry nodded. "We make a splendid team."

"Fuck you, Styles," Greysen snarled. "My apologies for swearing in your home. Harry's known for being a prick."

"That's nothing new," I said and I was shoved. "Hey!"

"Where do you want this?" Greysen asked. "Because as of right now, it's just sitting in the middle of your living room. I don't know about you but that's kind of tacky."

I stood up and Harry did the same. I looked around a couple of times before saying, "Do you think it could go in my bedroom?"

"Yeah, Harry will help me."

"The fuck I will," Harry shook his head.

"Get over here and help me, you little piece of shit."

Harry muttered something under his breath but went to go help his friend. I stepped to the side and watched the two of them lift the desk off of the carpet floor. Harry swore and Greysen called him a chicken. Greysen was much bigger than Harry and that let me know Harry was a tad bit weaker than him. They started carrying the desk down the hall and I followed, ready to tell them which door led to my bedroom.

"Hey, Sydney, which door—"

"First one on the right."

"Thanks, Doll," Harry peeked his head around his friend and smiled at me.

I smiled back and followed them into my room. There was enough space to put the desk by my closet and that was exactly where they put it. Harry wiped his nonexistent sweat from his forehead and ran his fingers along the desk. He stopped once he got to the chip and stared at it. Greysen excused himself from the room, claiming he wanted to put his tools back in Harry's truck before we left. I had completely forgotten about going to the store with them to purchase a new desk. Why did I have to go with them? I was certain three people did not have to go to search for it. Two people were enough. I was left alone with Harry and my new piece of furniture and I sighed.

"Nice room," Harry said after awhile.

"It's a mess." I shrugged.

"Not messy like my room," he said.

"That's good to know. Thanks, I really needed to hear that."

"You're welcome."

"You obviously didn't catch the sarcasm."

"Want to grab coffee with me later?"

"We're always having coffee." I shook my head. "I think we're taking in too much caffeine. I mean, didn't we just have coffee?"

"We didn't really drink it, though. Did you suddenly forget about how we were dying of laughter?"

"Oh, right," I shrugged. "It must have completely slipped my mind."

We fell silent again and Harry continued to admire my room. I had a few loose clothing items on the floor but they were nothing major. My bed was left unmade and one of my pillows had managed to fall onto the floor. The blinds were closed, causing the room to look dark and somewhat frightening. A dark, messy room? I supposed that could have been frightening to some. I soon enough turned my attention to the desk and knelt down to see what I could do with it. I ran my fingers along it—making sure it was not dusty—and whistled. I could feel Harry watching me and when I stood up, I nearly knocked the poor man over.

He caught his balance, though, and playfully rolled his eyes at me. The corners of my lips turned upward into a smile and I shook my head. He was so confusing but I liked that. As weird as it was, I enjoyed seeing both sides of Harry. Of course, I enjoyed the happy, fun side of him more. I never really knew when he was going to get pissed off and I learned to be somewhat careful with what I asked. I never forgot what Clare told me about his parents and I was still curious as to what happened to them. I would not ask him because I knew it would make him angry. If we continued this friendship of ours, I would wait and see if he would bring it up on his own.

"I'm having some friends over tonight." Harry said.

"Oh? Good for you," I looked down at the floor.

"Yeah," he nodded. "We're having a couple of beers and I have a pool. It isn't much but it's something to get you wet a little. You should come since you don't want to have coffee with me later. It starts at eight. Bring your bathing suit."

"Is Jillian going to be there?"

"Of course," his tone changed a bit, somewhat cold. "She's my girlfriend."

"I don't think that's a good idea. I mean, I'm pretty sure your girlfriend wants my head on a stick."

He shrugged his shoulders, "We're friends, right?" I did not know if I should answer or not because he continued. "And as friends, I'm inviting you over to my place to have fun. I know you hate Jillian but you know what? You can still hate her over at my house. Ignore her and she'll ignore you. Greysen is going to be there and so are some of my other friends. You're new to Seattle and I bet you haven't talked to a single person besides Clare and I."

"I talked to Greysen. He counts as a person."

Harry laughed and ran his hand along his forehead again. I watched for any signs of sweat but once again, there was nothing there. He was either pretending to sweat or nervous about inviting me over to his house. I believed he was pretending to sweat because there was absolutely no need for him to be nervous. The way he was behaving bothered me and I cleared my throat.

"I don't think I'll be able to make it."

"Why's that?"

"I have things to do."

"Such as?"

"Oh, you know, things people usually do on Saturday nights."

"What kind of things?"

"Just...things."

"You're a terrible liar."

"Maybe I just don't want to go?"

"Does someone think they're going to feel left out?" he asked and I rolled my eyes. "Because Greysen will be there and like you said, you've talked to him. You won't be alone."

"I don't think so."

"Sydney, if you don't cooperate, our friendship will never work out. Here I am, thinking I should be a good person and invite you over to my place for some beer but you turn me down. Gosh, you're so odd. It's summer, for crying out loud! You're really stubborn and uptight. Loosen up a bit."

"What if I like keeping to myself?"

"That's what bedtime is for. Come on, Sydney, I really want you there tonight."

I opened my mouth to argue before stopping myself to process what he had just said. He wanted me there? Why would he want me there? Jillian and his friends were going to be there. He probably had a ton of friends and if that was the case, it was not necessary for me to be there. I could stay home and lay around like I did every Saturday night. Right now, that sounded really nice. Relaxation was key and I bit my bottom lip. I could also relax with a beer and my feet in some cool water.

I looked up at Harry, "Really?"

"Really," he repeated.

"How do I know this isn't some trick?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"No," I shook my head. "I'm not."

"Well, I'm not going to force you to. You can come if you want or you can stay home and do nothing. It's up to you. I'll even give you my number. If you agree to go, I'll text you the address."

"How did you—"

"How did I know you wouldn't be doing anything tonight? I thought I mentioned how you're a terrible liar. Don't become a lawyer."

"I work in an herb shop, Harry. I don't think I'm going back to school."

"You were in school?"

"Well, I—"

"Oh, no. Don't tell me you were going to be a lawyer."

"Well, if you'd let me—"

"You were!"

"What's wrong with that?" I asked.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Nothing," I was too quick to answer and I tried to recover. "I thought it wasn't for me. It worked out just fine. Now, I have a new friend."

"Me?"

"Greysen."

"You two have exchanged, what? One syllable?"

"It was probably more than twenty."

"Well, just think about tonight, yeah? We'll exchange numbers later. You should probably get dressed, though, unless you want to go in your pajamas."

I looked down, suddenly remembering I was still in my pajamas. I nodded and Harry took that as his cue to leave me to get ready. Once the door was closed, I locked it and took my time getting to my closest. I changed out of my pajamas and threw a tank top over my head. I debated on if I should wear jeans or shorts. If I wore jeans, I would have felt more comfortable around Harry and Greysen. If I wore shorts, I would have also felt comfortable because of the boiling heat from the sun. I gnawed on the inside of my cheek and looked back and forth between the two types of bottoms. Gwen would be afraid to wear shorts around people she barely knew. Gwen was dead, though. She was long gone.

Sydney had taken over.

I moved the jeans out of the way and grabbed the shorts, pulling them on. I moved my hands about with my hair and assumed it looked all right. I knew it was a curly mess but I was too lazy to try to get a brush through it. It did not take me long to take care of my teeth and when I washed my face, I did not bother to put on an ounce of makeup. My mascara tempted me but I left it where it was. We were just going to the furniture store and there was no need for me to try to look nice.

My hair had already given up on me.

I trotted out of my bedroom—tossing my purse over my right shoulder—and found Harry standing by the breakfast bar. His eyes were on the photos of my family and the sight of them caused my heart to ache. Seeing my mother reminded me of the conversation we had earlier and it reminded me that I would no longer talk to her until everything was straightened out. Harry bent his knees a little bit, intrigued by the photos. He did not even notice my presence until I tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped slightly but he was quick to get himself together. I smiled and he smiled right back.

"Who's that?" he asked, pointing to the little boy in one of the photos.

"Oh, that's Jett."

"Who?"

"My younger brother."

"He looks just like you."

"So I've been told."

"You don't think so?"

I tilted my head to the side and Harry did the same. My eyebrows rose and as usual, I was slightly confused. He was asking me all of these questions but he refused to answer most of the questions I asked him. That was not fair and he did not seem to notice it one bit. Like me, he was curious and he did not hold back anything he wanted to know. However, the things I wanted to know were bigger than what he wanted to know. I was still curious as to what Jillian did when she was not at the shop. He dropped the topic almost immediately and it made me assume she did something illegal. I knew she did not, though, because she was somewhat an opened book.

"Have you changed your mind?" Harry asked, yanking me right out of my thoughts.

"About what?"

"Tonight."

"What about tonight?"

"Um," he awkwardly scratched the side of his neck. "I invited you over, remember? For beer with a couple of my friends?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Yeah? As in you'll come?"

"No!" I was quick to say and his frown deepened. "I mean...I...well...I just...I'm not good at socializing with people."

"You're talking to me right now and you're doing an all right job."

"I've known you for almost a month."

"If you don't go, you'll be missing out on one of the best nights of your life."

"You're being serious?"

"Dead serious."

The door to the house opened and Greysen peeked his head in. He looked at Harry, looked at me and then looked right back at Harry. He opened the door a little bit more and half of his body was inside of the house now. He cleared his throat and Harry turned around to face him. I assumed Harry was smiling because Greysen smacked his lips and rolled his eyes, not even hesitating to flick Harry off.

"My tools are back in the truck. Are we ready to go pick out this thing or what?"

"We're coming." Harry said.

"I'm sitting in the front. Sorry, Sydney."

"No hard feelings," I told him and he disappeared from view.

Harry turned back around to look at me and he crossed his arms across his chest. My eyes met his and I wanted to know why he was being so nice to me. I ignored him because he made me want to strangle the crap out of him. Now, he made me want to sit down and rethink my entire life. Who did he think he was? Waltzing in here and making me feel this way? He had no right to do this to me. He had a girlfriend and I had, well, an imaginary friend who was not even an actual imaginary friend. I knew guys could have friends who were female even if they were in a relationship. Something about this, though, felt so wrong. It felt wrong but I did not bother to kick Harry out of my house. In fact, I was interested to see how this was going to go. How long was our friendship going to last before one of us started up an unnecessary argument?

"Ready?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," I nodded. "Remember our first few days together?"

"Yes, why?"

"We're friends now, correct?"

"We are. Want to get matching shirts or something?"

I rolled my eyes and he chuckled, "So that means you no longer hate me? I mean, because you told me you did hate me and now you're saying we're friends. Is this all a show? Do you still hate me in a way?"

"No," he chuckled once more and shook his head. "Not at all."