Keeper

Chapter 31

"No, no we have to go to school." I frantically shook my head, sitting up even straighter on the squeaky leather seat.


"Just trust me." Harry sighed, absentmindedly narrowing his eyes at the road as he turned out onto an even more congested highway.


"Turn around." I demanded.


"No." Harry smirked.


I continued to shake my head,

"Really, I can't risk getting into trouble again."


Harry rolled his eyes,

"You're not going to get in any trouble. Just trust me, okay?"


"Where are you taking me?" I asked again, this time demanding an answer.

And I was most definitely going to get one.


"I told you to just wait and see."


"Tell me or I'll open the car door and do a tuck and roll."


Harry snorted and bit at his bottom lip.


"I'm being serious, you know? I'll do it."


"You won't be doing anything as long as I keep the doors locked." Harry spoke, his voice nothing short of sarcastic.


"I'll roll the window down then. Dive out." I shrugged. Even though I was trying my best to be tough and serious, to my dismay my words still came out quite soft and timid.


I watched as a smile tugged at the ends of his lips but he tried his best to fight it back by taking in a deep breath,


"You would really break a few bones for school?" He asked, his voice breaking into a deep laugh towards the end.


I didn't have time to answer before Harry continued, but this time his voice was much more serious,


"I thought that maybe you'd like to just hang out? Go to the mall maybe?"


I rubbed my hands over my eyes,


"I don't get why we just can't go to school. We still have a ton of time to get there before the first bell rings."


"Fuck school." Harry quickly retorted.


"Turn around." I snapped.


"But it's bloody Monday!" Harry hissed.


"I don't want make up work tomorrow."


"Please."


"No."


"But baby."


"Please don't call me that."


"Just c'mon."


"No Harry."


"I said no."


"For me?"


"Harry-"


"Oh well were almost there anyways." Harry shrugged, the expression on his face returning.


"Where exactly?" I spoke through gritted teeth.


"Well the mall doesn't open up for another two hours so-"


"Where?" I repeated.


"Geez calm down. I just thought that we could hang out at my place for a little bit."



"If my father finds out about any of this he's going to kill me." I mumbled.


"Don't worry babe, if anything he's going to have to kill me first. But I would never let that happen."


Before I knew it we made a turn down a secluded street, old Victorian style houses sitting one by one. Eventually we pulled up into the steep parking lot of what I assumed to be Harry's house. It was painted white and obviously it hadn't been fixed up in many years, the chipped paint easy to spot. It sat upon a sweet, tiny hill. A large oak tree hung over the roof which looked dangerous if a horrible storm ever occurred, but I highly doubt Harry cared at all.


Once we walked up the rocky pathway to the front porch Harry unlocked the door, the musky smell of cologne and most likely dirty laundry. There was a regular sized television in the sitting area as soon as we walked in, a faded floral couch against the far wall, a dark brown coffee table sat covered in crumbled pieces of paper and trash in front of it.


The total atmosphere from the living room to the kitchen changed rather dramatically, the smell hitting my nose now a mix of cinnamon and clove. I glanced over at countertop besides the stove, only to find what appeared to be a thick, classic cookbook.


"You cook?" I asked quietly, looking over at Harry.


He was busy sorting through his now unnecessary book bag before looking back up at me.


"Uh, yeah, kinda." He shrugged before returning his attention back to what he was doing."


"What kind of stuff do you make?" I asked, becoming far more interesting in the topic than Harry.


"All kinds of stuff."

I made my way over to the cook book and when I took an ever closer examination of it i realized it was all ripped up and pieces had fallen out. The bind appeared broken and the front cover was almost illegible.


"That was my grandmothers." Harry cut in.


"Man, was she a good cook."


"What was her speciality?" I asked, smiling over at him.


"Mmm...lasagna." He nodded, the giant grin evident on his face.


"I can never copy it though, even as hard as I might try some times."


"So you really do cook?" I asked, tilting my head.


Harry nodded lightly and took a seat ok one of the four chairs around the dining table,


"When my grandmother passed away, well- she was one of the greatest people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. I figured I wanted to do something to remember her, you know? I wanted to follow in her footsteps somehow. This is what I thought of. Cooking."


Before I could ask another question Harry continued,


"This is her house actually. Well, it was both of my grandparents I guess I should say but he- my grandfather- he died many, many years ago. Just barely a month before I went to jail she passed away as well. Me and my father lived here but before I could even blink they were just...gone. I was left by myself, alone."


"How do you afford it?" I asked, the question bugging to come out.


"Fortunately it has already been paid off by both of my grandparents . I'm incredibly lucky."


My eyes went wide,

"Yeah, you are."


"Would you like a coffee? Tea maybe? I've got a ton of sugar. Or do you prefer artificial sweetener?" Harry asked, completely changing the subject. The cute smile on his face making me somewhat blush,


"Coffee's fine. And so is sugar."