I didn't know him. Rather - I'd barely even known of him. But suddenly it all mattered. It was of such significance now, because he'd gone from the boy sitting in the row behind me in History, to the one on the news and in a body bag.
"I'm just.. I think I'm still in shock," Vic shook her head slowly, leaning back further into Zayn's couch, "I think we all are."
"It doesn't feel real," Liz added, her hand gently resting on Liam's shoulder, as he stared directly ahead of him, his own hand resting on the inside of her knee.
"Blair, you haven't said much," Zayn pointed out, reaching over to nudge my wrist, stirring me from my thoughts.
"Oh, sorry," I looked up from my lap, bringing my lip between my teeth, "it's just a lot to wrap my head around, y'know." And truthfully, it was. But for that very reason that I felt almost selfish. It was an odd, unexplainable selfishness simply due to the fact that I didn't know him. Yet here we were, jolted by his loss all the same.
I figured it was the details that were the most shocking - despite the fact that we didn't know them yet. It was the idea in itself that somebody could murder somebody. This was the type of thing you'd see on low-budget crime shows, or at most, national news - but in our town? For somebody in our town - somebody who only weeks ago had been seated in a classroom chair among us all, was now dead.
Murder. The word was almost foreign. It was like a myth - it didn't really happen. The loss of life at the hands of somebody else - it was unheard of. That was what had shifted us all in such a way; the foreignness of it all. The idea of anybody inflicting harm onto anyone else in our town; in our own content bubble of a town, was just ludicrous. And all of a sudden, it was a reality.
"Blair, I'm gonna make some tea. Come help me?" Zayn stood up all of a sudden, and I nodded.
"Yeah, sure," I stood up to follow him into the kitchen. He grabbed some mugs, setting them down onto the counter.
"This whole thing is just mad, isn't it?" he blew out a breath, shaking his head. "I mean, what the fuck?"
I sighed, pressing my lips together, "I need to call my parents," I said, realising I'd yet to do so. "I should also call Harry.." I trailed off hesitantly, unsure if that was selfish of me, also. I needed to call him so that he knew not to pick me up from school, but I didn't know his number. Regardless, I was sure he would've heard the news by now, but he still didn't know where I was - if he even cared to.
"Harry?" Zayn raised his eyebrows, going back to making the cups of tea, "oh, that's right. You two went on a date this morning. Distract me from our real-life horror movie with the details, will you?"
"It wasn't a date," I swallowed, almost thankful for my own distraction, as well.
"It definitely was. Or, at least - he likes you enough to take you on one soon. He spoke to me, I'm not dumb," Zayn returned, as I turned to get the carton of milk from the fridge.
"I mean.. yeah, it was just.. lovely. He's lovely." I thought back to how Harry had mentioned speaking to Zayn. "What did he say to you?"
"He just wanted to know where he could find you. Nothing too special," Zayn took the milk from me, pouring some into each mug. "I'm guessing he dropped you at school. I reckon I have his number jotted down somewhere by the phone if you fancy looking. I don't mind if you ring him."
I nodded, walking towards the table of papers, the phone mounted to the wall above it. I ran my fingers over the sheets of papers, finding company phone numbers along with names I didn't recognise. My eyes landed on Harry's name, scrawled messy in Zayn's handwriting, along with a number below it.
I pressed on the digits required, bringing the phone to my ear as it began to ring. Zayn nudged past me, balancing the teacups in his hands and sending me a reassuring smile, as I awaited the line's connection.
"Hello?"
"Hi, it's me," I said stupidly, wanting to facepalm as soon as I'd said it. He wasn't going to recognise my voice.
"Blair, where are you?" his response came hurriedly, something I could've labelled as distress prominent in his tone. "Are you alright? I saw the news - I went to the school but nobody was there, and-"
"I'm fine," I told him, "I'm at Zayn's house - the whole group of us are. School was cancelled today, but I'm okay."
"Can I come and get you? I can take you home."
"I think Zayn was going to drop me off in a few hours," I chewed on my nail.
"That's okay, too, but I'd still like to come and get you. I'd rather make sure you got home safe, myself," he returned, slight urgency in his tone, which lead to me finding myself nodding.
"Okay, yeah. I'll tell the others."
"I can drop them all back home, too, if they want."
"Thank you," I smiled a weak smile, still in slight disbelief at the situation we'd found ourselves in, "Get a pen and paper. I'll give you Zayn's address." I did so, and Harry told me he'd leave immediately, and so I headed back into the living room.
"Does anyone need a ride home? Harry's coming," I told them all, taking my seat back on the couch.
"Harry? Why?" Vic frowned, which I returned.
"Because - he has a car, and he wants to help."
"Zayn has a car," she pointed out, and I narrowed my eyes, confused by her sudden objection to Harry's presence.
"I know this is scary, but we don't have to isolate ourselves. Either let him help or don't, Vic," I sighed, taking a sip of my tea.
"I'll take the ride, if he doesn't mind," Liz interjected, "don't get me wrong, I love you guys, but I'd really like to be home right now."
"I second that," Liam mumbled.
"Well, I'm gonna stay here with Z. We shouldn't split up, right now," Vic said, and I nodded my head, agreeing with her for the sake of my own patience. She was being defiant for no reason whatsoever, having had no problem with Harry but suddenly creating one. I tried not to overanalyse it, especially considering what had just happened.
I began to wonder if there was any right way to feel in the situation. If I were to be completely unbothered - which wasn't me - then it'd make me cruel, and it'd make me heartless. But if I were to be in floods of tears, it would be just as odd. It was just one of those situations - but even to label it as 'just' seemed wrong; as if I just couldn't figure out the right way to feel.
A firm knock sounded at Zayn's front door, causing me to flinch a little more than it should've, before I came to the realisation that it was most likely Harry. Zayn stood up, heading out of the living room presumably to answer it, and I reached for my bag from its place on the floor.
Zayn returned with Harry a few seconds later, Harry's eyes landing on me in an instant.
"Hey," he spoke as if he were addressing the entire room, but his eyes remained fixated on me. I felt my cheeks heat, and I tore my eyes away from him.
"Thanks for coming to get us, Harry, it was really nice of you to offer," Liz stood up, her hand still clasping Liam's tightly as he copied her action.
"It's nothing, really," he returned, sounding as if he meant it.
"Vic, are you sure you're not coming? Zayn, you're welcome to spend the night at mine, too, you know," I offered, knowing my parents wouldn't mind in the slightest. I'd known Zayn for so long that they were fully aware there wasn't even the slimmest of chances that anything would happen between him and I - and especially with the circumstances, I knew they'd be more than welcoming.
"Nah, I should probably stay home for the night. My parents will be home from work, soon, too," Zayn replied, drawing me into a goodbye hug. I would've called my parents as planned, but as I knew I'd be home soon, I didn't see much point.
"I'm good here for a bit, too," Vic said, not budging. I pursed my lips, shrugging a small shrug to myself.
"Okay. Call me later?"
"I will."
"Are you ready to go?" I felt Harry's hand graze over the small of my back, sending a shiver along my spine that he most likely felt as he inched his way back through the doorway following the nod of my head.
Liz and Liam followed as Harry led us back out the front door, and the tone of solemnity returned. I pressed my lips into a fine line, feeling an odd sort of weight wrapping itself around my insides, grounding me with said solemnity and spreading a feeling which was just.. odd.
I got into the front seat, Harry slipping in beside me and Liz and Liam bundling up in the backseat beside one another.
"Are you guys by Blair's house?" Harry asked them, glancing at the pair in the rearview mirror.
"No, we're more this end. A few streets over - I'll point you," Liz told him, and she did so. It wasn't far to Liz's house; it was under ten minutes, and so the collective journey didn't last long.
Nobody said much other than the predicted statements of disbelief, and Harry's attitude seemed to remain pretty laissez-faire as it had been since I'd first met him. His posture was slightly slouched, one arm thrown nonchalantly over the steering wheel, his forearm resting upon the leather. His sunglasses rested neatly upon the bridge of his nose as he watched the road ahead of him, glancing in the rearview mirror every so often as he sent either Liz or Liam a response in conversation.
"We'll see you soon, Blair," Liam said, stirring me from my thoughts and causing me to realise that we were already outside of Liz's house.
"Oh - yeah, of course. Come over whenever."
"Love you," Liz called, getting out of the car as Liam followed. The door slammed shut, and Harry and I were left alone in a similar manner to this morning, only with far less bantering.
Harry eyed me for a moment, before he began to drive. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather somewhat of an understanding one as the dull hum of the radio cut through and the pads of Harry's slender fingers drummed monotonously against the wheel.
The car came to a halt directly outside of my house, and Harry turned to me again, meeting my eye as I'd gone to do the same.
"Hm," a quiet hum left Harry's lips, as he pressed his temple to the steering wheel and faced me. A tiny, and what looked to be almost sympathetic, smile was on his lips. "What're you thinking about? 'Not saying much."
"I dunno, really. Mind's all over the place," I chewed on my lip, fumbling with my fingers in my lap, "how are you?"
Harry lifted his head from its place on the steering wheel, pursing his lips as if he were contemplating his answer to my question. "Do you have Scrabble?"
I frowned at his response, watching his eyes shift between my eyes and my lips and attempting to brush it off. "Doesn't everyone?"
He pulled his key from the ignition, running a hand through his hair. "My follow-up was regarding whether I could come inside."