Harry and I went down to the kitchen. He was obviously nervous and smoothing his hair every five minutes. I didn't know how to behave myself, I was terribly ashamed in front of my father. Michael has never stayed over at my place and now he found a half-naked guy under my bed. We went into the kitchen and there were three plates of freshly cooked pancakes on the table. Dad got up from the table, as soon as he saw us. He walked up to Harry, putting on his glasses.

"I'm Mr. Bird, Emily's father..." dad said, extending his hand.

I started nervously pulling sleeves of my sweatshirt, then I glanced at my dad and then at Harry. I probably looked like a little child who broke a vase or made other mess. I was so nervous and hurried so much that I put on the first sweatpants and sweatshirt which were within my reach.

"Harry, I, um...Harry Morrison," the guy replied, stammering on the last words.

He shook hands with dad and began choosing words to continue his speech. His hair is messy and the look in his eyes is a little bit scared. It's the first time I see him like this. Usually he's always self-collected and concentrated, but not this time.

"He also studies at Stanford," I interrupted Harry, before he blurted something stupid.

"So, he's a fellow student?" dad asked, taking off his glasses.

"No, I'm in my second year..." Harry answered awkwardly.

He knew himself how it sounds awkward. We're not friends, not dating and as a matter of fact, we're no one to each other, but still he managed to stay over at my place. I felt myself uneasy, dad looked at us inquiringly.

"Ah, I see, come in, breakfast is getting cold already," dad finally said, pointing at the table.

We sat down obediently, obviously nor me, nor Harry had an appetite. Unlike us, dad began eating pancakes with a great appetite. The brunette started looking around the kitchen. It was quite different from his own.

With a help of designers, mom planned each room in this house. Natural stone and wood, in this house practically everything was made of natural material. Even table, which we're sitting at, is made of oak. I have always lived in clover and got used to it. But sometimes I got embarrassed of my wealthy family. The guy looked around the kitchen, it was obvious that he felt himself uncomfortable here. Harry saw for himself that he was right about calling me a rich, spoiled girl. I thought that he's from a family like mine. The guy stroked his hair up again. Dad noticed this bush of almost shoulder-length wavy hair. Harry doesn't look like Michael at all. My ex-boyfriend is an elegant, arrogant blond with a short haircut.

"Can you tell us about yourself, Mr. Morrison?" dad asked chewing.

I was also interested to hear Harry's life story, as I practically didn't know anything about him. The guy was sitting beside me and nervously twisting a fork in his hands.

"There's nothing to tell about..." he replied, flattening his wayward hair down.

I pushed him under the table, again he's pretending to be a mister enigma. If he doesn't reply anything right now, then my dad will find all information about him.

"Can you tell us about your parents?" dad continued asking, he won't stop until he finds out more.

"I was born in America, but as a child I moved to England," Harry started answering, without looking up from the table.

He became silent, not wanting to say more. Dad made an inquiring face and was just about to ask something else, but I managed to kick him under the table. He shifted his gaze on me in surprise.

"How's the weather today?" my dad suddenly asked.

He understood my sign and didn't bother Harry with questions anymore. Thus, we calmly started our breakfast. Harry acted composedly, he almost didn't eat anything. I was still trying to figure out, what my dad was doing. He didn't kick the guy out from house when he saw him, but on the contrary, he invited him on breakfast. He was silent about the marriage too.

As we had breakfast, I went to walk Harry to his car. He left his car a couple of blocks away from my house. All the way we were awkwardly silent, because we didn't know what to talk about. It was quite cold outside and Harry only had a light T-shirt. I started to compare Harry with Michael when we were still having breakfast. Harry is taller and brawnier than my ex. Without my heels on, I was a little bit shorter than his shoulder. Time to time we were glancing at each other.

"When will you return my clothes? That gray hoody wouldn't be out of place now..." the brunette asked, when we almost got to his car.

I instantly remembered about those clothes which Harry gave me after a sleep over at his place.

"Um, I gave it to a homeless..." I replied after a little pause.

The guy stopped abruptly and turned his face to me, his mouth opened in astonishment.

"Are you out of your mind? You can give your clothes to homeless people, but what did my sweater do wrong to you?" the brunette asked indignantly, gesticulating with his hands.

"Well, you have another one like that..." I started making excuses.

At first I wanted to burn it, because I was offended by Harry, but then I changed my mind and decided to give it to the person who needs it more.

"So what?" Harry couldn't calm down.

"That!" I exclaimed, not knowing what to say.

"You shouldn't have made me angry!" I brushed aside.

"You're just crazy, you have many similar black shoes, so I'll sneak into your house and give all your clothes away to poor people!" Harry muttered, getting in the car.

I came closer, knowing that I don't what him to leave. Let him shout, let him behave like a douchebag, just let him be with me. Harry got into the car and slammed the door. I came closer, the guy put down the window of the car and looked at me.

"Come on, you're not angry because of the sweater, right?" I asked, looking into his blue eyes.

"No, but because of the sweater too," he answered, softening his voice.

"See you at university?" I asked, hoping that we could at least be friends.

"I don't know..." the guy replied frowning.

"You promised me to reveal the secret," I continued persuading him, knowing that I look ridiculous.

"See you," he finally replied.

I was happy to hear that. Maybe we will be able to communicate, that's enough for me. Harry turned on the car and drove away. I looked after him, until the car turned around the corner. I headed over the house, where an extended conversation with father awaited me.

"Well, young lady, you are the limit..." I haven't crossed the threshold yet, when I heard dad's voice.

He was standing in the living room with his hands crossed on the chest.

"You're playing unfair, Emily..." dad continued saying with an angry voice, I passed by and sat down on the couch.

"Dad, don't start..." I pleaded.

Dad sat on the chair in front of me. I doubled up my legs, now he will begin.

"Why do you need this guy if you're going to marry another one?" father kept being angry.

"We aren't dating with him!" I replied, stressing the word "dating".

"Does he know about that? And if you're not dating, then why did he stay over at our house?" father continued speaking, frowning his eyebrows.

I have never seen him angry like this.

"Yes, he knows and..." I started answering almost rudely.

"You like him?" dad continued torturing me with questions.

I didn't even have time to respond.

"Maybe, I don't know!" I jumped up from the couch, dad totally confused me.

"Make up your mind already and what if you fall in love with him?" he asked, coming closer to me.

I didn't know what he's striving for.

"No, I'm not in love with him!" I almost screamed.

"Then don't give a hope to this poor guy. You're acting like an egoist, I don't recognize you at all!" he was practically shouting, I got even more confused.

We have never argued with dad.

"You must tell him about everything immediately and stop any communication with him," he declared.

I wanted to yell something offensive, as he was offending me with his words, but I decided to keep silent. I don't want to argue with him, moreover he's right, I am using Harry. I got terrified by my own selfishness, that won't work, I need to tell him everything.

"Okay, dad, I'll talk to him..." I replied, almost sniffling.

Dad hugged me and stroked my back. He was calming me down, like I did yesterday. I closed my eyes and imagined Harry when I will tell him the truth, my heart jumped.

"Enough of the broken hearts, dear..." dad whispered in my ear and I nodded obediently.

I bring so much problems, like a walking disaster. This marriage, father's problems, nasty Mr. Stone and his son. I don't want to involve Harry in these problems.

"But I'm afraid that he's already in love with you. Believe me, I noticed that at once, the way he was looking at you, the same way as I used to look at your mother..." dad said, I pulled away from him.

That's not true, Harry isn't in love with me. I shut these thoughts out.

"Is it so bad between you and mom?" I asked, trying to change the topic.

"Everything is alright, Emily, don't worry about us. Imagine if mom wasn't called out to work and she would have busted you?" dad asked laughing.

He obviously wanted to cheer me up, and he succeeded. I started laughing.

"She would have had a heart attack!" I laughed.

Dad always could calm me down, even after that we almost had a row. He opened my eyes on all this situation. Soon we will have a serious conversation with Harry, which will change everything.