Jeremy Rhodes, Whittney's older brother, can be seen in the media, accompanied by the TOP song, Holding Onto You. Like every chapter, I spent a lot of time and effort making it just right, while holding all the character to the BMR standard the best as I can. Hope you guys continue to like Harry's POV!

By the end of my first day back at Cromwell High, I was both physically and mentally exhausted. The whole day, I was exposed to multiple syllabus' which killed my mental state, and a stack of new books I had to carry around since no one has been assigned their new lockers yet.

It's just my luck on the year that I get the most textbooks that they mess something up with the lockers. Multiple others shared my pain, but given my muscle definition is not what it used to be, I feel I have a right to complain. Taking responsibility for my lack of exercising these days is something I'm not doing. It's my asthma that has brought this upon me, so by default, it's to blame for my lack in physical abilities now.

Even walking up two flights of stairs is enough to make me wheeze uncontrollably if I don't take it easy. Right now I have moderate persistent asthma which isn't the worst one, but affected my everyday life more than once a day, causing shortness of breath and a tightness in my chest.

Doctors say that I'm getting close to upping my diagnoses to severe asthma, especially if I continued to smoke. I rarely smoke, but every once in a while, the sudden need emerges and I have to buy myself a pack. Usually Whittney ends up taking half of it, so it isn't like I do it a lot.

The thirty pounds worth of books in my bag start to take a toll on me, so I carefully slide it off my shoulders and set it on the ground. I lean on a locker - a locker that should be in use, but because of bad planning, is currently unoccupied. Heavy breaths fill my lungs and people give me strange looks as they walk by, but I let it slide like I always do.

I take one last breath before my lungs calm down again and push myself off the locker. Right when I turn, I collide with someone going in the opposite direction. They grab my shoulders and steady me as their low, familiar chuckle makes heat rise to my cheeks.

When his hazel eyes look down at me with that mesmerizing smile accompanying them, my legs feel like jelly. Small dimples creep on his cheeks as he shows his teeth, which have always been flawless, even when he had braces freshman year. His chocolate brown hair is styled in the usual messy do that he always pulls off so well.

"Whoah." Austin Griffin says, readjusting me so that I'm standing upright - the muscles under his shirt flex a little. "You okay there?"

Two weeks. That's how long it's been since we'd seen each other. After having hung out multiple times a week during the summer, two weeks is a long time. Knowing Austin, he was probably doing his pre-school year exercises with Rodney, and some of his other teammates.

"Y-yeah," I stammer, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

Finally, after a few more moments of lingering, Austin drops his hands at his sides. "Well, you should come over. You could even show me some of the shitty anime crap you watch."

I laugh nervously, not knowing what to say about that. Anime isn't shitty, I love it, but I don't go against him.

"Can we go to my house instead?" I ask, hoping he'll go along with me this time.

He groans. "But my place has an HD TV. Plus, I have surround sound. Come on." He nudges my arm. 

When he shows his teeth with that dimpled grin, I know I've lost. He could get me to do almost anything, and I'd never even question it. Making him happy is something I always strive for.

"Okay." Like always, I give in almost immediately.

"Great, let's go."

"What, now?"

"No, next week." He rolls his eyes and laughs. "Yes, now."

Sometimes his sarcasm is a little harsh, but everyone has their flaws, right?

"Just let me give my keys to Charlette and then then we-" All of a sudden, I'm interrupted.

Rodney has Austin in a choke hold for a second before letting him go. When he sees me, he smirks. His gaze goes to Austin, who is fixing his hair.

"You're still coming today, right?" Rodney asks, a smug look pointed at me.

Austin runs his fingers through his hair. "Oh, shit. I totally forgot about that, but I already told Harry that I'd hang."

He shrugs in return. "So ditch those plans. Coach will beat your ass if you're not in good condition this season."

The asshole is talking like I'm not even here. Awkwardly, I shift my weight from my left leg to my right, avoiding eye contact with Rodney as much as possible.

With a sigh, Austin says: "Let him then."

I look up for a moment to see Rodney's famous death glare pointing at me, and I immediately submit under his gaze.

"Y-you know, don't worry about me," I say, my eyes shifting to my feet. "Why don't you go, we can hang another time."

"Are you sure?" Austin asks. He looks conflicted, but I can tell he's dying to go.

One more glance in Rodney's direction and I'm certain of my answer. "Yeah, it's no big deal."

Rodney smirks and pats me roughly on the back. "Thanks, Hare-Bear."

My eyes widen at the nickname - he must have overheard Charlette this morning. That is beyond embarrassing. I feel my cheeks redden as they walk away with not even as much as a goodbye.

Austin shoves him playfully after he tells a hushed joke, making me wonder how I could get Austin to smile like that. Rodney makes sure to rub their bromance in my face as they make their way down the hall, leaving me with the plans I had before Austin proposed we hang out - nothing.

I sigh and turn to leave to find my sister. Halfway to my car, someone finds me instead.

With an arm wrapped around my shoulder, Whittney pulls me to him, his free hand pats my chest. "Any plans for tonight?" He asks, ruffling my hair before dropping his arm back at his side.

A grumble finds its way up my throat, thinking about the great night I could have had if Rodney didn't steal Austin away from me. "Nope." I glance up at Whittney, and the spark in his eye makes me realize that he's already got his night figured out. "What do you have in mind?"

The mischievous grin playing on his face says it all. "Wanna come over?" That invitation only ever led to one thing.

I almost give into the idea, but then I remember what happened the night before with his mom. "But what about Jeremy?"

"Fuck Jeremy." Whittney rolls his eyes, but the uneasiness in them concerning his older brother is still there. "Jay went into the city to talk some business with Brandon. Apparently there's some trouble brewing between them and the Mexicans - some territory shit. But that's not important. Fact is, he's not at the house."

Thinking back to Austin leaving me for an afternoon with my tormentor, I realize I could actually use a little fun.

"Yeah," I say, "Okay."

A genuine smile pops on Whittney's face, and those don't come along often. He should - he'd look a lot nicer if he just smiled a little more. "Great!"

On the way out the school doors, I see one of Charlette's cheer friends and they agree to give her the keys when they see her.

Whittney leans down to unstrap his board from his bag and rides down the ramp meant for the wheelchair kids. It used to be that I couldn't separate him from his skateboard, but now he only uses it to skate to and from school.

Buses from our school district don't travel through his neighborhood. When he moved, he originally was supposed to go to a different school, but since Cromwell is one of the best performing schools in the state - beating even many private schools - he tried hard to not have to go to a different one. Many people don't know this, but Whittney's grades are all A's.

When I meet him at the bottom of the ramp, he taps the back of his board with his foot, making it tip flip upwards, and he catches it before it falls back down. He holds it at his side as we walk down the path that leads to his house. Occasionally, along the way, he jumps on his board to do a trick or two, but for the most part he's at my side. It doesn't take long until we get to his section of the neighborhood.

It's surprisingly nice - for a trailer park.

There is no van in the driveway when we get to his place, which means that Whittney was right about Jeremy not being home. A sense of relief washes over me. I've been here many times while he was present, but none of those visits ever end well.

Whittney holds the door open for me while I walk inside, the smell of alcohol and a lingering smoke scent floods my nostrils. Bottles of beer surround his father's TV chair, but Mike isn't anywhere to be seen. When Whittney notices where I'm looking, he decides to put my mind at ease.

"Don't worry, my dad's not here either." Whittney smiles weakly at me before it completely drops. "My mom is probably still asleep in her room."

"Your dad just left her here?" I try to hide the disgust from my face, but I apparently don't do well enough.

He chuckles darkly. "He probably got tired of waiting or realized that there was no one to grab him another beer with her out like this. My guess is that he's at a bar, using the limited money we have to get wasted."

The fact that Whittney speaks about this situation so calmly scares me. He's gotten used to the shit that revolves around his life, and I don't know how he deals with it. Chances are most people wouldn't survive a day in his shoes. From the issues with his older brother, to a father who doesn't seem to care, to a mother whose only solace is to drown herself in drugs - it would be enough to drive anyone crazy.

When Whittney disappears into his room, I take the opportunity to go to the kitchen and grab a couple beers. His father apparently wasn't smart enough to check if there were still any left over before going out. That, or he was sick of only beer, possibly needing something stronger.

I sigh, grabbing two in one hand and closing the fridge door with the other.

Before making myself comfortable on the worn out couch, I place the bottles on the wooden coffee table in front of it. One of the cigarettes in the ashtray in the middle of the table is still burning, so Mike left rather recently. Another possibility is that someone else was here. The Rhodes' always stress the importance of having an Open Door policy when it comes to friends.

For the most part, the only person in the family you really have to look out for is Jeremy, but Mike has a temper. Thankfully he doesn't act on that anger like Jeremy does - getting on his bad side is not something I'd recommend.

Whittney pulls a grinder out of his pocket while I take out a piece of cigarette paper. While Whittney works on a joint, I fish out my bottle opener from my front pocket. The liquid fizzes when I open the bottles, but only a couple strands of beer spill over the opening.

Even though it's a shitty brand, the cool of the beer is refreshing. It has been a while since I've had one since I didn't go to many parties during the summer, and my mom has a strict 'no alcohol' rule in our household. She doesn't even partake in a simple wine every now and then, or even on a special occasion. It's not that she's an alcoholic, but her grandfather did die of alcohol poisoning, so that probably did the trick.

I'm already done with half my beer when Whittney's finally done. He's always been very anal about it since he always has to roll Jeremy's for him and he always wants them to be perfect.

A perfectionist is bad enough, but a psychotic perfectionist is way worse.

Smoke fills the air with the smell of cannabis, its companion after Whittney lit it. He breathes in and holds it for a few seconds with his eyes closed before letting it out - filling the air with more smoke. When he leans his head back, he holds the joint to me and I take it, taking a drag myself.

It takes a couple seconds to take effect, but when it does, all my worries seem to fade away, and all the things that mattered only seconds ago don't matter anymore.

Only a few more minutes pass before the both of us are completely stoned. Laughter for no apparent reason escapes us over the silliest things, and the videos that Whittney put on are now really tripping me out.

Whittney seems to be having the time of his life, but his smile drops when his gaze focuses behind me. A darkness boils in his eyes as he glowers at the intruder who reveals himself as Jeremy.

A knot bundles at the pit of my stomach just at the sight of him. Those piercing eyes are as blue as they are cold, and chilling to the bone; a vicious smirk accompanies his vile glare, both features always expressive on his smug face. The scruffy facial hair is new, giving him a more intense, mature look - he looked scary enough without it.

He takes a seat on the couch on the other side of Whittney, making him go rigid.

"I thought you were going to be home late," Whittney says, breaking the painful silence.

"I was, but turns out it didn't take as long and we have one less Mexican to worry about." Jeremy smirks proudly before grabbing the beer from his younger brother's hand. He takes a swig, ignoring Whittney's protest, holding the bottle out of reach. "You've got legs. Get up off your lazy ass and get another one."

After getting up, Whittney grumbles incoherently on his way to the fridge.

Jeremy's eyes find mine immediately and I take a sip of my beer, hoping he won't strike up conversation. The awkward, scary silence is made worse when he just keeps staring, like he's trying to figure me out.

"You got a girlfriend?" He asks, taking another swig of his beer as he continues to study me. When I don't answer, my teeth biting into my tongue, he adds, "Boyfriend?"

If I would have taken a sip at this point, no doubt it would be all over the place right now, but I choke on my own spit instead. "E-excuse me?"

"Relax," he says it almost mockingly. "I was only joking."

When Whittney returns, he speaks right away. "When are you leaving, Jay?"

"I'm not." A smile laces his lips for a second before he becomes expressionless. "But your friend is. I'm having some friends over tonight, so no one can be here, got it?"

"Yeah." Whittney avoids making eye contact, grudgingly submitting. "Got it."

"And clean Dad's shit up, will you? It's a fucking garbage dump in here." Jeremy gets up from the couch and leaves down the hall to his room across from Whittney's.

Right once he's out of hearing distance, Whittney relaxes. "I'm sorry." A genuine apology is hard to get from him, but to be fair, it's not his fault that his brother showed up out of nowhere. He sighs. "Do you have someone who can come get you?"

After thinking it over for a second, I shrug. I take out my phone and look up A's in my contact list. Usually my sister is the first person I call, but after what Rodney and the others told me this morning, I didn't know what to say to her at the moment.

I click Austin's name and it shows up on the screen. Three rings go by after I hear a raspy voice answer.

"Hey." Austin's heavy pants echo in my ear. He must still be working out with the guys, which is unbelievable considering they started a couple hours ago. "What's up?"

"Are you busy?"

The sound of water swishing is followed by three big gulps. "Almost done. What do you need?"

"Can you come get me?" I ask, unsure of his answer.

"Uh..." He sounds annoyed, maybe I should have called someone else. "I don't know. Where are you?"

"At Whittney's."

"Is Jay there?" There's more urgency in his voice now, but I don't blame him. Anyone who has met Jeremy wants to stay as far away from him as they can.

"Yeah, bu-"

"I'll be right there."  

***

So we got another glimpse at Harry's POV, and we met Austin Griffin through his eyes for the first time, as well as Jeremy 'Jay'. Next chapter we get a little more Austin Griffin, played by the wonderful Gregg Sulkin - AKA Liam Booker from Faking It.

Please tell me what you thought of the chapter in the comment section below, and if you thought the chapter was deserving, give it a vote. (: Thanks for reading!

Til next time,

TheWriterD