Game Theory × NH

044 | ruthenium

× Mercury

"Would you stop taking pictures of me?"

I grinned as I looked at Harry through my phone screen just as the shutter sound of the camera went off. It was a rare sunny November day in London with white fluffy clouds in the sky and the promise of the weatherman saying there would be no rain. We were sitting on the field of the arena as we spent the nice day outside.

"Oh, hun," Chloe said as she pulled her aviator sunglasses down lower on her nose and looked at Harry. "You should know by now that taking pictures is kind of Lynn's thing. She has an entire folder on her phone with my name on in. And she should. I'm fucking hot."

Jillian and I shared a look as Chloe put her glasses back over her eyes and lied down on the fake grass, soaking up the sun as much as she can before the rain takes over again tomorrow.

It wasn't that Jillian didn't like Chloe; it was more that Chloe just gets under her skin sometimes. I didn't know as much about Chloe as I should being her roommate and all, but from the parts I did know about her, I knew she wasn't very, um, clean. In more ways than one.

Chloe got around. Probably not as much as Niall, but enough to know that when the door to our dorm is closed, that I should always knock just in case something was going on beyond the wood. And she left things behind, too, like used condoms that missed the trash. And that was just one of the many, many things I had found on the floor. I probably wouldn't have minded too much except that I was always the one who had to pick it up (with a long stick I had found outside that I kept under my bed for that very purpose).

So, dirty was definitely a good word to describe Chloe. And Jillian wasn't anything if not a clean freak.

"It's once in a life time that I actually get to see you without skinny jeans," I grinned at him as I put my phone away in my bag.

It was true. Ever since I spent my free time with Harry, I didn't think I had ever seen him in anything other than black skinny jeans. Today was an exception, I guess, because he was sporting some Nike black shorts, a T-shirt, and some bright green shoes that could blind a bird fifty yards away. His unruly, curly brown hair was a mess and his green eyes were covered with black shades.

Jillian picked up the soccer ball between us and started rotating it around in her hands. "Does anyone know how that girl is doing in the hospital?" she asked, looking over at me. "You're the one who found her and called the medics, right?"

"The only thing I know is that she's stabilized," I said.

The memory of Halloween night haunted my dreams - a girl in the shed, trembling with bloodshot eyes - every time I placed my head on my pillow. They were surprisingly welcoming, knowing they were at least a little better than the ones I had been living with the past three years. At least at the end of these new dreams, the victim ends up surviving.

I grabbed the ball from Jillian's fingers and stood up. Harry and Jillian watched as I juggled the ball on my knees and feet, occasionally catching it on the back of my neck and between my knees.

Suddenly, Harry was there and snatching the ball from the air and stepped closer to me. I could feel his breath on my face as he said, "I'm getting a little jealous that you're paying more attention to a football than you are to me."

"Well," I smirked at him. "How about we make things interesting then? If you can make a goal on me, I'll do anything you want me to do. Or vice versa if you don't make the shot."