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"Psst."

I lifted my chin from my hand, tuning back into the sound of my Maths teacher, whom I'd been drowning out with my own thoughts for over ten minutes at this point. I looked up, glancing over to the source of the sound.

The boy in the seat beside me was nudging my arm, pressing his hand against it to slip something into my own. I frowned, taking the piece of paper and opening it up.

A small sentence was scrawled onto the torn sheet, and I was unsure if the boy beside me had written it, or one of his neighbours in the classroom.

'Memorial bonfire tomorrow at 8 in the park,' it read, 'Pass it on.'

I brought my lip between my teeth, processing the purpose of the bonfire in my mind. A memorial for Finn Morrison - I knew I couldn't miss it. We were due to attend a school assembly that afternoon, but I figured the reason the invite was shared through a note was that alcohol would be supplied there; the irony being that the park was the most public place to possibly have a bonfire, but I assumed it would be in one of the back fields so not to draw too much attention.

"What's that?" Vic whispered, eyeing the paper in my hand, as the bell sounded throughout the room signalling the end of class. I passed it to her.

"A memorial tomorrow night," I told her as she read the note, and I stood up along with everyone else in the room, packing my folder back into my bag.

"We should go, right?" 

"Of course," I nodded, swinging my bag over my shoulder. Truthfully, I was hurrying, while Vic had yet to even put her books away, because I knew Harry would be waiting for me outside, as promised. "Can you tell Zayn and the others? I won't see them until History this afternoon."

Vic frowned, "What, you're not coming to lunch?" Her face fell as I shook my head 'no'. "Again? Blair, I've barely seen you at all over the past week." 

I sighed. She wasn't completely wrong - in the sense that I still hung out with them daily, but I met Harry for lunch most days and he drove me to and from school, as well. I'd say less than fifty percent of my nights were dedicated to spending time with Harry - I was still at either Zayn or Liam's house with the others most days, but I also understood that halving the amount of nights with them was a significant change to how it had been previously.

"That's not completely true," I argued softly, but I still felt bad that my friend felt that way. "Look - how about we go to the bonfire tomorrow, and you stay over after? We could get dinner, too?" I suggested, hoping to ease her mind a little.

She nodded, seemingly a little more satisfied than before. "I'd like that, yeah. Have a good lunch with Harry," she said, seeming to mean it a little more as I offered her a small smile and headed out of the room and towards the exit.

"Thought you might've got lost," Harry spoke as soon as I got into the car, his voice smooth and sweet like it always was.

"Not quite," I let out a small laugh, clicking my seatbelt into place and turning to grin at him. "Hi," I murmured, feeling his face inch closer to my own.

"Hello, gorgeous," he countered, his grin mirroring my own as he briefly connected our lips before leaning back in his seat and pressing his foot onto the pedal. I felt my cheeks flush pink, biting my lip back into my mouth as he drove away from the school.

"How was class?" he asked brightly, and I set my hands in my lap, watching him as he focused on the road and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. His arms were clad in a brown, suede jacket, hanging baggy around his wrists.

"It was okay," I shrugged, resting my elbow against the rim of the window and pressing the back of my head into my hand, comfortably craning my neck for my eyes to remain on Harry. He noticed, catching my eye and sending me a boyish grin.

"Just okay?" he asked, reaching over the console to grab my hand in his. I bit my lip at his gesture, feeling the cool metal of his rings envelope my warm fingers. "I guess I'm not one to talk, really. I hated school."

"I don't hate it.. it's just a lot right now," I pointed out, and he nodded, squeezing my hand. I glanced down at our hands, intertwined, and drew my finger over the tiny cross etched into his skin just below his thumb. 

"Murder town," he remarked quietly, mimicking the news from the radio we'd heard that very morning, discussing the murder in awe and contemplating whether our town was soon to become a murderous one. "How was the assembly?" I'd told him we were due to have one today.

"It's this afternoon," I said, as he pulled into a parking space at the diner with ease and switching off the engine.

"It's sad," he blew out a breath, "I'm sure he was a nice guy." Harry squeezed my hand again, sending me a look of reassurance.

We got out of the car and headed towards the door of the diner, his hand finding the small of my back as we did so. I felt a short chill run up the length of my spine at the action, despite its simplicity, my skin burning under his hand despite the barrier of my dress.

He sent a signature smile in the direction of the waitresses on duty, leaning against the bar, as a younger one stood in awe at the sight of his entrance. A strand of hair looped around her finger, she batted her eyelashes at him and took a step towards us.

"Follow me," she smiled a little too brightly at him, and though he didn't seem to dwell on it, I felt a gentle pang of jealousy in my chest. I silently scolded myself, unsure of why I was so bothered.

We sat down in a corner booth, the waitress filling our glasses with water and taking our orders. Harry let me go first, waiting patiently for me to speak my order, his eyes on me as he waited, before the waitress turned to him, a flirty smile on her lips as before.

"And for you?" she asked him sweetly, reaching to lean over him, practically nudging into Harry with her chest. She let a manicured finger extend over his menu, "Is it your first time here? I recommend our signature burger. It's infamous-"

I snapped my menu shut, laying the small book on the table as she took a step back from Harry, but not before shooting me a brief glare.

Harry's eyes landed on me, an unreadable glint in the olive green. I caught the corners of his lips quirking slightly upwards, as he closed his menu.

"Just add another of what she's having," Harry grabbed my menu along with his own, holding them up for the waitress. "Thanks, love." His eyes had yet to shift from my own, as out of the corner of my eye I watched the waitress take our menus and head back towards the kitchen.

I felt my cheeks heat, aware of how pathetic I'd acted, as a barely noticeable, but still, humoured look spread onto Harry's face. He raised his eyebrows, extending his arm across the table and opening his hand. I sighed, placing my hand in his own.

"I thought it was my ugly trait, hm?" was all he said, caressing my hand in his own as I rolled my eyes. 

Our food arrived quickly, despite the lunchtime busyness, and the waitress didn't bat another eyelid in Harry's direction. I almost felt guilty, but I brushed it off, as Harry didn't seem even remotely bothered by her advances, or her lack of. 

"Is this assembly as soon as you get back?" he asked me, taking a bite of his food once he'd finished speaking, and I nodded.

"Yeah, I think so. There's also a bonfire tomorrow night - a memorial type thing,"  I told him. "Will you come?"

"Of course, yeah," he nodded, "if that's you asking me to be your date to a memorial."

"Well, when you put it that way - it sounds pretty sinister," I giggled, shaking my head.

"And what's wrong with that?" he asked me, waving over the waitress to ask for the bill, a boyish smile playing on his lips.

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