"YOU KNOW," OLIVIA GRINNED AS she pulled back the blanket and climbed into bed with me. "Ice cream and cheesy romance movies cheer me up when I'm sad." I simply looked at her and she widened her smile, patting the top of my head gently. "I know. I'm not being very helpful right now and I know I'm not Harry. It's just...I'm trying the best I can to comfort you, all right? I'm not a professional when it comes down to these things but that doesn't stop me from trying."

She laid her head down on the other pillow but never looked away from me. Billy brought her back from the funeral not too long ago and I tried to look okay. I tried to look like nothing was wrong. I expected Olivia to cry about the funeral and I was going to be there to comfort her and listen. However, the tears never came. She was fine. In fact, she was laughing about the other people who were crying, calling them all fakers and liars.

"Violet was crying more than Jillian's grandpa," Olivia was saying when she walked through the front door. She was laughing and that was strange. "She didn't even like Jillian! I mean, come on. If you're going to cry, at least have a reason for it. Did you see me crying?" Billy shrugged his shoulders, kissed her on the cheek, and left because it was his night to get his sisters from their dad's.

I pulled the blanket over my head and Olivia yanked it back, taking a few strands of my hair with it. When I looked at her, she frowned and stretched out across the bed, placing her head on my stomach. I watched it rise and fall as I breathed and she stared up at the ceiling. This scene reminded me of when Harry and I were listening to his music back at the herb shop. He asked me if I trusted him and he placed his head on my stomach. At the time, it made my heart explode and made my stomach twist and turn. Now, the memory made me angry because I no longer had Harry and I was left behind with all of these beautiful, heartbreaking memories. I groaned and grabbed the pillow Olivia was previously laying down on. I placed it over my head and screamed into it, not really satisfied with the results.

"If that's your way of saying you're ready to commit suicide, it's very pitiful and needs more work."

I hit her with the pillow.

"You need a distraction," she stated, standing up on the bed. I raised my eyebrows as she started jumping up and down. "You know, something to get your mind off how depressing your life is right now."

"Gee, thanks," I rolled my eyes.

"You could continue to mope around and become this depressing person who never sees the best in life or you could come up here with me and jump."

Before I even had the chance to give my response, she reached down and pulled me up into standing position. She started jumping again and I crossed my arms across my chest, digging my feet into the mattress so I would not fall. Every time she went up, she squealed, excited to come falling back down. The bed was big enough for the two of us to jump but I just was not in the mood. I wanted to lay back down and think about what I was going to do next. It was obvious some people did not want me here and I was thinking about granting their wish. I was probably going to leave for good this time. Besides, it would be best for everyone.

"You're not jumping," Olivia frowned.

"And you haven't fallen off the bed, yet," I grinned.

"Very observant," she plopped down on the bed, dragging me down with her. "I like that. We can go to the park and push kids off the swings or go down the slides where our feet are already at the bottom once we sit down at the top."

"I didn't know we were reliving our high school years. I would have packed my retainer and acne."

"Shut up."

"How are you in such a good mood? I'm intrigued. What's your secret? Alcohol? Drugs?"

"Yes," she nodded her head. "I take a whiff of grass every morning before I go anywhere. What do you do? Flower petals? Oak tree leaves? I heard that's the good stuff."

I laughed and shoved her, "Shut up!"

"You're laughing? Well, that's a start. Change your clothes. Put some shoes on. We're going out."

"Where?"

"Hell."

"I mean, should I wear shorts, then?"

Olivia laughed as she walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. I rose to my feet and stretched my arms before changing out of my pajamas. We were going out the night of Jillian's funeral. I found that to be quite odd but I did not question it too much. Olivia was in a good mood and she was rubbing off on me. She was making me laugh and that was a hard thing to do. Scratching my head, I decided on wearing something simple and comfortable.

White shirt.

Blue jeans.

I had no idea where we were going and I hoped I looked all right for the occasion.

I left my hair how it was because I simply did not have it in me to do anything with it. I waited for Olivia in the living room and I held my purse on my lap as if someone would run by and take it away from me. The television was still off and I was too lazy to turn it on with the remote. Even if I did turn it on, Olivia would come dancing out of her room before I even found an interesting channel to watch. It was not worth it. She was taking a long time, though, but I was not going to rush her. She did go to a funeral today. She was probably making sure she wore bright colors unlike the black dress she had on.

She stepped out of her room in an outfit very similar to mine; however, she wore black jeans with holes in them and red heels. Lipstick stained her lips and she looked like she was about to go party. I, on the other hand, still looked like I had just gotten out of bed. Her hair was messy but it looked beautiful on her. She was holding a black pouch with sparkles on it and I suddenly wondered how women could go through little trouble to look beautiful. By the time I finally made myself beautiful with makeup and what not, I was already sweating and tired.

"Ready?" she beamed, pulling me away from my thoughts.

"What's with the red lipstick?" I responded with a question.

"Why? You want some?"

I shrieked when she tossed it in my direction. I caught it and examined it closely before raising my eyebrows at her. She nodded her head viciously and I applied some to my lips, afraid her head was going to go flying across the room from all her violent nodding. I made sure not to apply too much. I only added enough to make the color noticeable. It was going to fade soon enough and that was fine with me. I tossed the lipstick back to her and she caught it without a single problem.

"Come on," she said. "We should get going."

"And where is that, exactly?"

"I thought we established this already."

"Hell," I murmured.

She looked back at me and smiled, "Precisely."

• • •

Hell was an understatement.

This place was hot. People dancing on each other, sweat rolling down various pieces of body parts, the place smelling like strong alcohol and regret in the morning. It was dark except for a few red lights here and there. I understood why Olivia referred to this place as Hell; however, I wished we had gone someplace else.

I cupped my chin in my hands and closed my eyes, wondering how in the world I got myself in this situation. Music blasted in the background and I knew I was going to be deaf before the night was over. The bartender looked at me, his eyes asking if I wanted another drink, and I shook my head. He shrugged his shoulders and moved on to the person sitting a few seats down from me. Olivia abandoned me not too long after we got here to go out onto the dance floor. I was not in the mood but that did not stop her from going out there to enjoy herself. I knew she did not mean to bring me to this particular club. She had no idea this was the exact same club I was at with Harry, Greysen, and Jillian.

Something about that night made the corners of my mouth twitch upward into a smile. Even though we had a few problems, it was still a wonderful night and I had fun. It was also the same night Harry asked me to move in with him. Although I should have said no, I was proud of myself for being so brave and saying yes. My eyes wandered up to the second floor and I slowly stood up from my seat. The bartender watched me as I walked towards the stairs leading to the top floor. I took my time getting to the top and I constantly looked behind me to make sure I was not being followed. I found the table where Harry and I sat before and I leaned against the railing, smiling to myself.

"Want to play twenty questions?"

I looked at Harry, blinking once or twice, "Twenty questions?"

"What?" he looked slightly bothered by my response. "Have you never heard of it?"

"No, no, I have." I reassured him.

"All right, then," he nodded his head slowly as if he was unsure about this. He was the one who suggested playing it. "I guess I'll start."

"I'm ready." I was grinning.

"What's your favorite color?"

I chuckled, suddenly remembering when Greysen asked me this, "Emerald green."

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting mine for a split second. His head tilted to the side a bit and he raised his eyebrows. He watched me carefully and when I smiled at him, he cleared his throat and said, "Good choice."

It was obvious I was talking about his eyes but he never pointed it out. It was as if he wanted to keep this little secret to himself and smile whenever he would think about it. The night was absolutely perfect. Greysen and Jillian had taken off to go dance, leaving Harry and I alone. It was the ultimate moment for us and I would not have traded it for anything.

"If you could choose, would you remain a man or turn into a woman?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"It's the first one that came to mind."

"I don't know if I want to play this with you anymore."

"Why?" my smile widened. "Are you saying you want to turn into a woman, Harry?"

"Gosh, Sydney," he shook his head, laughing lightly. "No, I'd like to remain a man if that's all right with you."

I found myself sitting down at the table in the seat Harry sat in before. I laid my head down on the wood and exhaled slowly. I had wished he was here with me right now. I would very much enjoy another game of twenty questions with him. In fact, we did not even have to talk to one another. I just wanted to see him. Was that too much to ask? Running my fingers along the table, I realized life was too short to be sad all of the time. I loved, I lost, but I also gained. I still had the memories and I was all right with that. I would hold onto the good and the bad. I wanted to hold onto everything.

My phone was in my purse and I pulled it out without any hesitation. I went to my contacts and sighed when I came across his name. I wanted to call him just once to make sure he was okay. I knew he was not going to answer but I wanted to give it a try. There was nothing wrong with leaving a message if he did not answer. I pressed my thumb against his name and stood up from the table to find the restroom. What was I doing? Calling him was only going to make things worse and I did not want that. I was eager to hear his voice, though, and nothing about that was ever going to change.

I pushed open the door to the restroom and stuck my tongue out in a gag at the smell of vomit. There was a woman retching in the largest stall and I decided to stay by the sinks. My foot impatiently tapped against the floor as I waited for Harry to pick up...or not pick up. Either was fine with me. I was taking a huge risk here and I felt like I was conquering the world by making this one phone call. If I did not reach out to him first, who knew if he was going to ever try to contact me?

My body stiffened at the sound of music blasting through the speaker on my phone. I moved the phone a few centimeters away from my ear to prevent myself from going deaf and I knitted my eyebrows together. The woman continued to empty her stomach and I listened to the music that was playing outside in the club. I then put my phone back to my ear and nearly died of a stroke right then and there. I immediately hung up and rushed out of the restroom. My head was constantly turning, looking for those emerald eyes I missed so much. Was he going to be happy when he saw me? Or was he going to yell at me like he did when we last saw each other? I did not care. I kept looking. Why did he not say anything when he answered? Perhaps it was by accident. It did not matter. He answered and let me know he was here. How did I not see him before?

I bumped into several people but did not stop to apologize. I was on a mission and time was precious. Sweat beads formed on my forehead as I was slowly beginning to give up. There were hundreds of people here tonight and, after a while, they were all starting to look the same. I tugged at the roots of my hair, groaning with the biggest amount of frustration. I hated everyone in here for making my mission so challenging. Sometime during my search, I kicked my shoes off and kept walking barefoot. I did not care if I caught some kind of fungal disease. All I cared about was finding Harry.

My Harry.

"Another one for you, sir?"

I came to a halt and slowly turned my attention to the bar. I had checked every place other than the bar. A few people were standing in my way and I did not stop to think about pushing my way through the crowd. There was a very faint sound of a drink being poured, the ice banging against the sides of the glass. I stopped once I reached the outside of the crowd and my heart thumped rapidly. I suddenly felt as if a rabbit was jumping up and down on my chest.

His hair was perfect.

It reminded me of the first time I ever laid my eyes on him.

My lips were suddenly dry at the sight of him. He was much taller than I was with a slight hunch that caused him to bend forward a bit. He was wearing a black top covered with a green work apron. The shirt he was wearing was short-sleeved and his arms were covered with multiple tattoos. His hair was long and brown, almost meeting his shoulders. It was not messy at all. It was in fact neat, the complete opposite of how my hair looked right now.

I took a step forward and put a hand over my mouth. What was I doing? I could not just walk up to him and act as if everything was okay. My hand fell back down to my side and I gritted my teeth together. Life was too short to be afraid. If I wanted him back in my life, I was going to have to make the first move. My feet carried me across the room and the bartender smiled at the sight of me.

"Back for more?" he asked.

I shook my head, "No, not this time."

Harry's shoulders stiffened at the sound of my voice and it took everything in me not to hug him from behind. I stayed right where I was. I would only sit down if he wanted me to. Standing was the best option right now. I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet and looked down at the floor.

"It's such a small world," I said over the music. "I hate it."

He was as still as a statue.

"I also think the restrooms in this place need better cleaning," I said and the bartender threw me a look. "Sorry." Harry slowly turned his head and I grinned when I noticed he was looking at me from the side. "Do you want to know what I really think?" His silence was killing me. "I really think you should squeeze the lemon on your glass into your drink and see how it tastes. I mean, it can't just be there for decoration. Am I right?"

He looked back at his drink but left the lemon slice alone.

I sighed, "Look, you don't have to talk to me. Just hear me out. Can you do that? And after I'm done, you can go back to hating me all you want because I was horrible to you and I was horrible to Jillian." I paused to wipe my eyes with the back of my hands. "I hurt you, Harry, and I shouldn't have allowed my heart to get the best of me. I walked out of that hospital room when I should have stayed. I should have but I abandoned you." He said nothing. "I know you'll never forgive me because I wouldn't, either. I...I was ignorant, irresponsible, and small-minded." More tears fell from my eyes but I let him fall. I was tired of wiping away my tears when I knew more were going to come.

I was just tired.

Harry fully turned around in his seat and his frown was obvious, "What do you even think you're doing?" I opened my mouth to reply but he continued. "I'm the one who snapped on you. I'm the one who pushed you away; yet, you're acting as if you're the one who did those things."

"Harry—"

"I'm not in the mood for talking, okay? I came here for a drink and that's all I want."

He turned back around and muttered something under his breath. My face felt hot with embarrassment but the tears finally stopped falling. I took this opportunity to sit down beside him. He said nothing as I made myself comfortable. Once again, the bartender offered me another drink but I shook my head. I kept my eyes on Harry and I saw his eyes beginning to water. He did not bother to wipe the tears away as he grabbed the lemon slice from the glass and squeezed it into his alcoholic beverage. When he brought the glass up to his lips, he took a sip and his face twisted with disgust.

I laughed.

Harry tilted his head to the side as he looked at me and he sat his glass back down. I expected him to yell at me but he did no such thing. Instead, the corner of his mouth twitched and he scratched his head before laying it down on my shoulder. I was shocked by this sudden action but I kept quiet. I moved my hand up to the top of his head and patted it gently. Even if he did not want me around, I was not going anywhere anytime soon.

I was going to stay by his side.

And I was going to listen.