Bella stared at him, not that Harry seemed to notice. Her dad's boyfriend—her dad had a boyfriend—was staring out the kitchen window, the oatmeal on his spoon cold and goopy.
She didn't really like oatmeal when Renée made it, but this was pretty good, probably a British recipe.
"Who's Alice?" she asked again.
"She's your best friend," Harry said once Charlie's car had driven off. He looked back at her, eyes very wide and green, like everything else in Forks. "I'm sorry. I'm not supposed to have said that."
Bella mimed zipping her mouth, but he just blinked dumbly. "Okay," she tried again. "I won't tell."
He smiled, then got up to do the dishes. Bella wanted to like him, she really did, but Harry was a bit…weird.
It was also weird to picture her dad having sex with a guy only a few years older than she was. Scratch that, it was weird to picture Charlie having sex at all. She'd walked in on Renée a few times, and that had been traumatising enough, she did not need to know if Charlie sucked—
"So are you working today too, Harry?"
"No." He was fidgeting with the dishrag. Bella watched him and waited for him to speak. Her eyes kept drifting over his ass, it made her uncomfortable that he had a nice ass.
"Have you been here long? D'you miss home?"
"No." The kitchen was spotless, but Harry kept wiping. She wondered if he had an obsessive compulsive thing.
Bella got up, grabbed her bag, and went to wait on the front porch for whomever Alice was.
She didn't have to wait long. A smart-looking black car crunched its way up the gravel drive, looking very shiny in the drizzle. Back in Arizona, she'd have called everything precipitous rain, but in Forks she'd have to differentiate. Drizzle, shower, downpour.
Alice was tiny, and looked like she was only a breath away from wrapping Bella in a hug. They mustered each other, and the moment Bella decided she wouldn't mind it, Alice embraced her. She was wiry, like a dancer, and wore nice clothes with Goth makeup.
If she'd been back in Bella's school in Arizona, Alice would have been one of those kids wearing too many layers in the heat, just because they liked the aesthetic. Bella thought her way too pretty for a place as boring as Forks.
"Hi! I'm Alice, you're Bella of course, it's so good to meet you—"
And she was off. Bella let the words carry her to school like a wave. Bella had been surfing once, she'd gotten a concussion; metaphorical surfing was much safer. Bella moved through her first day of school like she wasn't really there, wishing they would stop staring, wanting to be normal for once.
She hadn't been normal in Arizona either, of course. They'd called her Juliet because she read too much, as if educated was the worst insult they could come up with. In the kinds of neighbourhoods Renée could afford rent, it basically was.
She'd already been dreading AP biology, and on the way to class her stomach dropped.
Because there was Harry, looking kind of hot and extremely disoriented standing outside the cafeteria in one of Charlie's jackets. He'd forgotten to put the hood up, so he was soaked.
"Hi, Harry," she said, checking who else was watching. Mike Newton was hovering like a golden retriever.
At least Harry looked about as embarrassed as she felt.
He pressed a small bag into Bella's hands, like the kind Mrs Vane used to pick up her dog poo. The thing inside it was hard and lumpy. "Take this. It'll keep you safe if you wear it. Do it for Charlie. Please, Bella."
A cork, painted silver, with tiny inscriptions all over. Harry had wrapped it in wire like a child's attempt to make a statement about caterpillars turning into butterflies. Worst of all, there was a leather cord. Forcing herself to smile, Bella put it over her head and fixed her hair.
"Hi!" Alice hugged the man.
Bella just stared. Maybe the sprite girl did that to everyone?
Harry also completely ignored the girl wrapped around him. "You can tuck it under your shirt. I'm sorry."
"Bella," Alice waved, then turned back to Harry. "I have gym now, Coach Clapp won't mind if I skip. Wait right here, I'll drive you home."
"Thank you," he said, still looking right at Bella.
The bell rang. Mike Newton swooped in and led the way to Biology.
…
The boy sitting beside her in class would probably hate having to do group projects. Bella didn't care, she'd only been given the choice between bio and chem. Better have Cullen wrinkling his nose at her, than suffer through covalent bonds and electron orbital subshells ever again.
He probably thought she was a complete idiot, wearing a surrealistic cork sculpture like jewellery. Bella hid it under her collar. "Hello."
"I'm Edward Cullen. You've met my sister, of course." His handshake was cold, but his smile was nice. He looked unfairly attractive, like a demigod amongst mortals.
"Yeah, she was walking Harry to her car just now."
"I hadn't realised Harry was here." Benefits of a small town: everyone already knew about her dad's gay boyfriend. Disadvantages of a small town: everyone also knew enough to comment on the ins and outs of said boyfriend's schedule.
"He's a bit strange? Came by to give me…" A necklace? This ugly thing? "…a cork."
Edward inhaled deeply. "I've seen Harry make those, he's truly gifted. I'm glad you have one."
She'd thought Edward was hot, but at that moment Bella realised he was also deranged. She shifted to face the front and started scribbling down every word on mitosis.
…
Bella tried to ignore Harry, she really did. He was just there all the time, cooking dinner when she got home, sharing a ride with her and Alice in the mornings, or curled up on the sofa with Charlie while watching a game.
It shouldn't have surprised, coming home to a neat stack of laundry by her bedroom door. He hadn't used fabric softener, but he'd ironed the shirts. Bella was pretty sure Renée hadn't ironed, ever, in her life.
She found him halfway up an oak tree, standing like a wood nymph between its boughs with his face turned toward a rare Forks sunset. The trunk was familiar and gnarly, she could see the remnants of the rope that used to hold her tire swing.
"You didn't have to do my laundry," she said, instead of 'thank you' or 'please don't fold my underwear'.
"There's magic here, wild and ancient," Harry said, instead of something normal. "Touch the trees, Bella, and you'll feel it."
It was just bark, damp and flaky. "Could you show me how to use the iron?"
When Harry swung down, grinning wildly, she couldn't help but laugh. In that moment he had the same childlike delight as Renée, and Bella understood what Charlie loved in him.
.oOo.
There was a flash of light against the black of her room. Bella stared at her billowing curtains, listening to her racing heartbeat.
She turned on her lamp, but the warm light didn't feel any safer. The window barely whispered as she slid it shut.
Charlie's house loomed cold and dark; it was better than returning to bed.
When washing her face didn't help, Bella tiptoed downstairs to make herself a cup of cocoa. The familiar smells reminded her of grandma Marie's kitchen. She poured carefully, pleased she'd gotten the amount just right, then went to put the pot in the sink.
Bella almost died at the sight of Harry on a kitchen stool. The pot clattered to the floor, bouncing twice. By some miracle, it hadn't made a mess or hit her feet. "Holy shit," she whispered. "How long were you sitting there?"
"Not long." Harry's eyes almost glowed in the dark. It made her believe, for a second, in the magic he kept mentioning. "Are you alright, Bella?"
She sat down, mug cradled between her hands, feet nestled in her slippers. "Just had a bit of a scare is all."
"Hmm," he said. "Anything in particular?"
'I didn't open my window,' she wanted to say, but she knew it sounded crazy. She'd sleepwalked when she'd been younger, and she'd been told that nowadays, she talked when she dreamed. 'No rest for the wicked,' Gran would've tutted, then made her cocoa and tucked her back into bed. Bella smiled into her cup. "It's stupid," she said. "I think it's the sound of the rain, I'm not used to it."
Harry sat and stared through her without answering.
"Whenever we had thunderstorms in the desert, mum and I would bunker down to watch," Bella said, just to make the silence end. "They're beautiful, the purple clouds and the flashes of lightning. I loved the smell of dust and rain."
"Maybe you should close your window?" Harry offered, but he was smiling.
"I'll try that," Bella said. She smiled back.
…
The next time she woke to billowing curtains and a visceral fear thudding in her ears, she found Harry already in the kitchen. There was a stick of vanilla floating in the milk. Bella had never been able to afford a whole pod, let alone waste it on hot chocolate.
"I'll look into getting you a new window," Harry murmured, pouring them a mug each. "Something soundproof, with a handle that locks."
Bella thought Harry was strange, from how he couldn't meet her eyes, couldn't tie his own shoes, couldn't hold a normal conversation.
But in that moment, sitting in the dark kitchen surrounded by chocolate and cinnamon, she appreciated him for taking her worries seriously.
Day 17 of an update every day this December. Thank you so much for your support! For the impatient: there's more of this story (and others) already up on ao3.