Outliers [L.S]

26

Harry's pov:

6 years ago, two weeks after escaping foster home.

Zayn hums with delight, dropping my shirt. He walks around the kitchen island, taking a seat on top of it. His legs kicked as they dangled from the ground.

"Your back has improved well. Just scars now," Zayn beams. He grabs the cup of water next to him, taking a sip.

I lean against the island beside him. My fingers traced the tiny details.

"Does this mean we can finally take out Robert? Save the kids," I ask. Zayn's feet kick against the island now, matching the soft pounds of my heartbeat. He looks down at me, his eyes lit up.

"It sure does. Are you ready to tell Liam and I the plan?"

I nod. I had a decent one. It was short of thrown together. The friends I met from juvy are a big part. They also used to stay with Robert. One guy, Nathan, knew of him the most. Being with him since he was 6. Before Robert started the abuse. I promised him I would break him from juvy once I got rid of Robert.

"Where is Liam? In the garden," I ask, casting a glance up at Zayn. He shrugs, pushing himself from the island. He heads for the patio doors.

I follow slowly behind him. The cottage we were staying in was stolen. When we broke from Robert we drove until the car ran out of gas. Leaving us stranded on a dirt road. We walked down it for what felt like miles, especially in the summer heat. We then came across our new home. It was owned by other people, but Zayn killed them. Liam visited the garden to pay their respects. That's where we had buried them.

The cottage was tiny. Only one bedroom, a basic bathroom, living room, kitchen and such. I had plans for it. One day I would make it into my very own hideout.

The patio door opened with a swoosh sound. Zayn stepped out, me on his tail. Liam was in the garden, watering the flowers. He glanced up at us, smiling. He brushes his dirty hands against his jeans, leaving dark streaks.

"Harry's ready to tell us his plan. I'll fetch us some tea," Zayn yells, hands cupped around his mouth. Liam throws us a thumbs up.

I sit in one of the rocking chairs. My dirty socks flat against the dark wood of the patio. Liam had decorated the place beautifully. Flowers hung off the roof of the patio. White rocking chairs sat around a brown coffee table. A grill in the corner. It reminded me of my grandmother's house.

I smile as Liam climbs up the patio steps, sitting in his own rocking chair. He was careful not to touch the white rocking chair with his still dirty hands.

"Why do you care about them so much? People die everyday," I ask, glancing at the garden. It seemed as if Liam was there every other second.

"They were innocent weren't they? They lived in the middle of nowhere. Maybe they wanted to pretend the world didn't exist," Liam says nonchalantly. Picking at his nail beds.

"No one's innocent in this world. We've all done bad. I'm sure they did something terrible to forget about the world."

Liam shifts in his chair, looking at me.

"What if someone did something bad to them? Like with Robert to us. He was the cause of us being so angry."

"No. We were terrible people before we were shoved into Robert's home. All former inmates," I point out. Liam shakes his head, biting his lip.

"Not me Harry. My parents died from a rare sickness. His place made me into a bad person. I had to do evil things to stay alive. But you inspired me. You'd be a great leader to many more troubled people," Liam whispers. I could barely hear him.