I ran my fingers over the delicate stitching of my comforter, exhaling as I looked up at Harry.

"It's not a big deal, you know," I murmured, trying to study his expression for any sign of emotion. He'd been silent since the pieces had finally fallen together - he was Celia's son.

"I know," he replied quietly, his gaze burning through mine as it always did - the intensity sending a shiver down my spine.

I wasn't sure how I hadn't pieced it together when I first met him. The unmistakable accent; Harry - 'Haz' - his upbringing (though he didn't go into the same detail). It had just never crossed my mind.

"Why did you keep it from me?"

"It's not that I kept it from you," he kept his gaze on me, playing with a loose thread on his jeans, "Just never came up."

"But I just don't understand why it's a big deal, Harry," I was sure I had a puzzled look across my face, but I simply didn't understand, "Your mom is like family to me - I don't see why it matters."

"I don't know what you expected," he grumbled, shaking his head, "I met you two days ago - what was I supposed to say? 'Hey, I'm Harry Styles - my mum butters your toast in the morning'," he said sarcastically, and I scoffed.

"Harry, don't be ridiculous. I don't understand what your problem is."

"It's embarrassing!" he stood up now, raising his arms in frustration, "don't you get it, Ana? Look at you - look at this place. I shouldn't be here. My fucking mum works for you - she's your maid. You pay my damn bills; fuck," he breathed, lowering his tone as I stood up.

"Harry, stop," I said softly, lowering his arms with my hands.

"You must think so fucking lowly of me," he said quietly, his gaze burning into mine again.

"I don't," I promised him, releasing my grip on his arms, "I don't."

Harry let out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I don't care about any of that," I continued, "I don't care what you have and what you don't. I don't care if you have a job, I don't care if you live in a mansion or in a box on the side of the street. I don't care if you have a ton of money, or if you don't. I don't care."

We remained in silence for a moment, and I took a step towards Harry, looking for some kind of response.

Before I knew it, his palm was pressed to my cheek - the skin of his hand rough, but warm. I kept my eyes on his, before letting them flutter shut as his thumb traced a circle on my cheek.

"Okay," was all he murmured in response, before dropping his hand from my cheek. My skin burned from where his hand had been, but I ignored it, grabbing my bag from the floor.

"Help me with this Chemistry homework?" I attempted to change the subject.

"I won't be much help, Ana," he forced a grin, but took a seat on my bed once more.

I opened up my textbook, Harry shuffling so he was beside me, his knee pressed to mine. Immediately I bit my lip at the heat of his skin, despite being through his clothes, against mine.

"Is this the homework from Monday?" he asked lowly, resting his hand on his own knee. I nodded, and he picked up the book, his eyes studying the pages with slightly less intensity than they did when he was reading a book.

"I don't understand any of this," I sighed, resting my hand on his shoulder to look at the pages over it, his broader frame obstructing me.

"S'not that hard," he mumbled, concentrating on the page before holding out his hand. I passed him a pen, and he placed it between his teeth, tapping his fingers on it in thought, before scribbling down notes I couldn't distinguish on the pages in front of him.

"And then you balance it.." he trailed off, before doing so and handing me the paper, "done."

"I thought you wouldn't be much help?" I chuckled.

"Well I can't teach you how to do it," his smirk grew, "But I can do it just fine."

I rolled my eyes, laying back on my bed to look at the ceiling, "Well, thank you."

I felt the bed dip beside me, signalling that Harry, too, had laid down. I glanced across at him as he stared at the ceiling, before turning back to stare upwards myself.

"I've always wanted to do this at night, or something," I announced, resting my hands on my stomach.

"What, stare at your ceiling?" he joked.

"No - go outside; stare at the stars in the middle of the night like this."

"So why haven't you?"

"I don't know," I said honestly, "if we're disregarding the fact I'm not ever supposed to be out after dark.. never had the motivation."

"Surely if you want something," I felt Harry's eyes on me, "what other motivation do you need?"

"Ana, I'm- Harry, get off the girl's bed, bloody hell," Celia shook her head as she walked into the room, causing me to laugh as I sat up, and Harry did the same - though he found no humor.

"It's not like we were doing anything," Harry's eyebrows furrowed, "I'm not looking to get banned from this house by her parents."

"They wouldn't-"

"We're leaving, Haz, it's late."

"That's not my name," Harry didn't even look at her, instead he occupied himself by playing with a loose thread from his jeans between his fingers.

"We're leaving, Harry, it's late," Celia repeated, nudging him up off the bed, "I'll be back tomorrow morning, Miss Levin."

"Please call me Ana, Celia," I whined, "you make me feel like an old woman when you call me that."

"Yeah, Mum, you make Ana Grace feel like an old woman," Harry quipped, swiping his tongue along his bottom lip in the way he often did, as his smirk grew spread across his lips.

"Harry, let's go," she sighed, but didn't try to hide the smile on her face as she turned to walk down the hall.

"Go on, she's waiting," I chuckled, nudging Harry out of the door.

"Fine, fine, I'm going," he rolled his eyes playfully as I shoo'd him into the hall, "I'll see you at school tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah - and we're not ditching," I poked my finger at his chest, causing him to raise his hands up.

"Alright, alright. I'll see you in class, then."

"You will," I nodded, sending him a final smile as he walked down the hallway to meet Celia and head off.

It wasn't until lunch the next day at school I found Sadie by my locker again, this time only with Jake - no Louis.

"You ditched again, yesterday?" Sadie hissed, and I frowned, shoving my books into my locker.

"Stop it, Sade, you're being ridiculous," I sighed, not in the mood to argue with her today.

"No, Ana, you're being fucking ridiculous," she started, and I slammed my locker shut, "ditching your best friends for that fucking Harry Styles guy - somebody you've known less than a week. A fucking nobody, too. What the fuck is that?"

I gritted my teeth, "Shut up, Sadie."

"Excuse me?" she scoffed, and I folded my arms.

"I said, shut up, Sadie. You're so patronizing it's fucking insane. For god's sake - I hung out with Harry on Monday, and then you went and shut me out yesterday, and so I hung out with him again yesterday. He's so far from a nobody, and I pity the fact you'll never know him as more. At least he knows how to fucking act."

"Give it a break, A," Jake quipped from behind Sadie, and it was now my turn to scoff.

"This is a joke," I spat, tugging my jacket closer around me as I stormed down the hallway without another word.

I was so angry, and I didn't even understand why. I was furious, actually. They weren't acting like my friends at all, and I wasn't sure if it was the lingering paranoia of what Harry had told me a couple of days before, or if I was beginning to face the inevitable reality - I didn't understand their frustration at all - and that only fuelled mine.

Harry had been nothing but good to me - I'd gotten through to him (to a certain extent, at least) and despite only knowing him for a few days, he'd yet to give me a reason to distrust him.

Sadie had gotten angry at me for what, exactly? Hanging out with somebody other than her? From the beginning I'd never intended to upset her by hanging out with Harry - I'd like to say I never would've done it if I'd known the impact it'd have on her. She hated Harry, and I didn't get why; I didn't get it at all. He'd done nothing to her, yet she attacked me for hanging out with him? It was irrational.

"That hungry, huh?" a voice sounded from behind me, causing me to slow down my quick paces that I'd lost track of during my dramatic exit.

"I was just gonna skip lunch, Harry," I said honestly, running an exasperated hand through my hair.

Harry narrowed his eyes, scanning me up and down as the hallway cleared and everybody piled into the cafeteria.

"What's wrong?" he asked me, his eyebrows now furrowing.

"Don't worry," I brushed it off, "it's no big deal. Sadie's just acting dumb, that's all."

"Oh, so that's what you were yelling about," he smirked, "that mouth of yours will get you in trouble."

"Shut up," I felt a smile tug at my lips, the pure sight of his expression enough to temporarily erase all thoughts of anger.

"Come get lunch with me, yeah? I don't want you yelling at me next," he said, and I chuckled and nodded.

"Anything to get my mind off my ever-so-lovely friends - please," I said, allowing him to take my wrist and lead me to the cafeteria.

I grabbed a tray, taking a slice of pizza and a bottle of water. I glanced to my left, Harry standing beside me as we walked beside each other to an empty table. I looked over to the table I would sit at on any other day - besides today. Sadie didn't even look up, her and Jake deep in conversation, while on the opposite side of the table sat Kaylee and Louis, deep in a conversation of their own. I sighed as the four of them roared in laughter in unison.

"Y'know," Harry spoke suddenly, unscrewing the lid of his water bottle and taking as sip, "if I'm not good enough for you, feel free to go back over there."

"That's not what I was thinking-"

"Isn't it?" he snapped, cocking his brow as he placed his water back onto his tray.

I ignored his sudden outburst, "Why do you hate them so much?"

"They're not exactly my biggest fucking fan, either," his lips twitched back into a smirk, clearly finding amusement in this.

"Harry."

"Ana Grace."

"Why do you hate them so much?" I repeated.

"They're shitty people - exhibit A," he held out his hand, signalling to the lunch arrangements currently in order, "not that I'm complaining. You wouldn't have eaten lunch with me otherwise."

"I would've," I argued, "you're my friend, now."

His eyes met mine for a moment, before he continued, "I just don't like people like them. Can we not talk about this shit?"

"Did something happen?" I pushed, frowning, "Tell me."

"Please drop it," he groaned, but I wasn't having it.

"Harry Edward Styles, you have five seconds to start talking before I stand up from this lunch table and don't come back," I declared.

"You can't be-"

"One, two, three-"

"Okay, okay. Fuck, Ana," he cleared his throat, calming the panic that had arose in his tone moments before.

"I wasn't always a total loner, y'know," he said solemnly, staring down at the food on his plate, "I had a best mate, um - his name was Caleb," he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and I got the impression that he either rarely discussed this, or it was just an uncomfortable topic for him, "basically, that best friend of yours, Sadie - hooked up with him after school one day. Uh, yeah, he was totally fucking into her, and thought they had something - turns out she was doing it for a fucking joke or some shit - your mates were all in on it - Caleb didn't have a clue. They tormented him for months afterwards - called him all sorts of twisted shit - people were following him home, texting him nasty shit. I never understood how bad it was until he was gone."

"Gone?" I frowned, "What, he moved schools or something?"

"No, Ana Grace," Harry's voice cracked a little in attempts to clear his throat, "Caleb killed himself."