Harry's POV
I go into class and find a seat amongst the huge college classroom. I sat right under the air conditioning, which was really nice because it was a muggy North Carolina day. The professor begins to talk with his boring tone, and I just sit there at my table and gaze at him. A guy next to me nudges my shoulder and flicks his head in a direction. I look, and it was Rosie. She was two rows below mine, but I could see her between two classmates. She mouths something, but I don't understand what she's trying to say. I smile and she gets frustrated.
"Miss Brookland, turn around in your seat." The professor tells Rosie. He looks at me as he pulls his glasses down to the tip of his prescription glasses.
"And Mr," He looks at his attendance sheet. "Mr. Styles, leave her alone or else you're out of class for the day." And he gets back to work.
Once he turns around and continues writing things, Rosie turns around again. She whispers this time.
"After class, come to my house." She says softly. I nod, yes. The professor turns around just as Rosie does, close call.
The class was dismissed. Rosie was already on her way home when I ran up to her.
"Hey, Rosie." I say, walking up next to her as we walk to her home.
"Aye Harry." She says, bumping into my arm.
"That professor is actually the biggest dickhole, I swear." She says madly.
"It was pretty funny." I giggle.
"Shut up Harry." She mumbles and slightly grins, looking at me out of the corner of her blue jewels.
We walk to the front gate of her neighborhood, Churchhill Farms, and type in the security code. We walk to her huge house and go in through her basement doors, where her room was.
"You know I've always meant to ask," I say.
"Yeah?"
"Why don't we ever go through your front door?" I ask. We have been friends for almost five years and I've probably been through that door twice.
There was a silence for a moment. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to." I say sincerely.
She doesn't say anything, and just goes and sits on her bed. She pulls out her homework and gets to it. I sit down at her desk.
I look through my backpack for a pencil, but I no matter how much I dig I can't find one.
"Rosie do you have a pencil I could use?" I say, opening drawers in her desk frantically for a single pencil.
"HARRY!" She yells as I open a drawer. She stands behind me as I look at what's in the drawer.
She starts to get shook up, and slowly backs up and sits down on her bed. I stare in awe as Rosie blushes and tears dribble down her shaded cheeks. I felt horrible.
"Rosie... I, I had no idea." I say lightly. "I'm so sorry." I say, standing up to go sit next to her on the bed. I wrap my arm around her back and rub her upper arm. I slowly bring her closer, until she rests her head on my shoulder. I place my hand on her thigh and lightly touch the inside of her leg.
"Rosie." I mumble.
I had no idea she cut herself, ever. Nor did I know why. Rosie is the sweetest, happiest little smiley girl I've ever known. If you were to judge by her appearance and personality you would've never known she physically harmed herself. As she held my forearm that was on her leg, I tried to look at her wrist to see any scratches or cuts. I noticed a few tiny ones that my eyes have never wandered to until now. "Rosie please tell me why you're hurting yourself." I say.
She leans up and clears her nose, and looks at me. "You should just leave." She says in a whimper-y voice.
I look down for a minute. "Harry, you should leave."
