Method to his Madness

2 - How To Run From The Mess you Made

I'm highkey and lowkey as hell.

On the second day of school, Harry Kay is awake way before the rest of the building wakes up.

So am I.

He's lying in his bed, unmoving as he stares at the ceiling for hours at an end. I'm sitting on the windowsill, my legs curled up against my chest as I watch him. I still have no idea what happened yesterday.

Or rather, I do.
You see, there are so many possible reasons for what happened yesterday, but there's only one that fits the whole picture. And I do not want to face that one.

When the early light hits Harry's window, he sighs and rolls over. It's the first time I've seen him move. For a second, I think that his eyes are fixed on mine, and my breath hitches in my throat. But then his eyes glaze over, and I realize that he wasn't looking at me.

Of course not. God, I'm so fucking silly sometimes.

A light knock on his door makes us both startle, and I expect Emma to walk into the room like she always does, but she doesn't. Instead, when Harry softly calls out an 'enter', Levi pokes his head through the door.

"Hey mate, are you uhm... okay?" His voice sounds hesitant.

"Yeah... yeah, why?" Harry sits up in his bed, his left hand moving through his curls in the way that he always does when he's puzzled or disoriented. It's only then that I realize that the building around is slowly coming alive with sounds. Levi shrugs as he enters the room. "You seemed pretty out of it yesterday." He blushes as soon as the words have left his mouth. "Which is totally normal given the situation," he rushes to add, but I can see that Harry is barely listening. His eyes are fixed on a spot over Levi's shoulder, and he sags as he whispers. "I just don't get it." The words, even though the tone is soft, are laced through with frustration. Levi gives a tiny, helpless smile. "I know." He's silent for a beat. "You know that the teachers probably don't expect you to come to class today, right? I mean, no one would..." he trails off as he sees Harry's expression. Which is, in fact, quite murderous. "I'm not going to skip school!" he spits out. Even I am taken aback a bit by his reaction, but seconds later he's rubbing his hands over his face, shoulders dropping low. "Sorry. Sorry- I'm..." He sighs loudly. "I didn't really sleep. And Char hates it when I skip classes."
Levi twiddles with his fingers but gives Harry a small smile nonetheless. "I get that. We'll go to the basement after classes, okay?"
Harry's eyes widen in surprise at his words, as if he too had not really taken those late-night words for the truth. "That's... thanks man," he manages to bring out.

And so, twenty minutes later, I'm trudging along behind Harry, Emma, and Rafe as they walk towards the campus. The silence between them is rigid and painful, as sharp as a silence that comes forth out of a nasty altercation, and as dampening as the silence that is created by the sheer emotions of pain and worry. It's a weird mix, a tense one, and I have to stifle the urge to run away from it. They're all in their own heads, worry etched in their features, but it's still uncomfortable as hell. And I might be a lot, but I'm not fit for uncomfortable situations.

At school, everyone looks at them with silent faces. For once, there is no gossip, no strings of whispers that start as soon as one turns their back. People are just looking, with concerned faces, as the three of them walk into the school building. Seems like news travels fast.

And if I thought that the walk here was uncomfortable, then hell, I was not prepared for the situation in the classes. The teachers ask as if nothing is wrong, then completely wreck that demeanor by throwing quick, nervous glances at Harry, who is sitting in the back of the room, not paying one bit of attention as he stares out the window, or at a wall, or at the head of the person in front of him.