Harper stood across the hall in front of Hannah's locker at the end of the school day, just staring. She should have been crying. She felt like crying, but for some reason the tears wouldn't come. She hadn't known Hannah for that long, just barely over a year, but she quickly became friends with her. It hadn't even been ten days since Hannah had committed suicide so maybe there was a chance that it hadn't fully sunken in yet. So, instead of falling, the tears only stung the back of her eyes as she stared at Hannah's locker.

"Hey, you alright," Tony asked her. His hand on her shoulder jarred her out of her numbed stupor.

"Yeah," Harper lied through her teeth. "I'm okay."

"Need a ride home?"

"I think I'll walk, but thanks Tony," Harper politely declined. He'd been a real friend to her since the winter formal and that was exactly what she needed right now. That, and a little space to clear her head. Tony let her be, and Harper stayed fixed at Hannah's locker for several more minutes before beginning the walk home.

Her walk was quiet and reflective, the overcast weather matching her mood. It threatened to rain on her the whole way. Her route took her past the Bakers' house, where Harper paused to look at it. She remembered the first time Hannah had brought her there.

It was late summer, and Harper had been eager to get to the theater to make her annual trip to the movies for her birthday. It was a tradition her mother had ingrained in her from a young age, and though her mother had long abandoned it, Harper still went by herself every year. In her rush, she'd run into a girl about her age who was on her way out. The girl's popcorn went flying. "Glad I'm off shift," the girl had joked. Harper smiled, glad to know she hadn't just ruined someone's day.

"I'm Harper," she'd introduced.

"Hannah," the other girl replied.

"Would you like to join me," Harper asked. "I feel bad for spilling your popcorn and I think I ought to make it up to you."

"Yeah, sure, I guess," Hannah agreed with a chuckle, "what were you going to see?"

"I'm not sure yet," Harper admitted. "I usually have my movie decided on well before my birthday, but I guess time got away from me."

"Wait, it's your birthday?"

"My seventeenth," Harper confirmed.

They had seen some unmemorable comedy afterwards, and Harper walked home with Hannah when it was over. "It's late," Hannah said. "Let me ask my mom if you can stay over."

"Really? We just met," Harper remarked with a laugh.

"Let's just say I'm fairly certain you're not a serial killer, so I'm not too worried."

Harper smiled fondly at the memory. It was then that the rain began to pour and Harper herself finally begin to cry. The rain quickly began to soak her clothes and soon she couldn't tell the tears from the raindrops as they ran down her face. "Harper," Olivia Baker called, her voice cutting through the sound of the rain hitting the pavement in heavy drops. "Harper, is that you? Come inside. Please? Get out of the rain."

Harper found herself walking up the driveway before she'd made the conscious decision to move. "You're soaking wet," Olivia said, ushering Harper inside. Harper shivered when she'd stepped fully inside the house. She hadn't yet stopped by the house since Hannah's death to give her condolences and she almost felt like an intruder. "Go dry off," Olivia gently urged, sounding equally authoritative and concerned. Harper made her way to the bathroom on autopilot and stripped out of her soggy clothes, grabbing a towel to wrap around her.

A few minutes later, a soft knock fell on the bathroom door and Harper opened it, knowing that Olivia would have a change of clothes for her. Something of Hannah's more than likely. Harper laughed to herself when she saw the tank top that Olivia had handed her. It was faded yellow from excessive wear and had a sunflower in the middle of the chest. It was the sleep shirt she'd left here the last time she had a sleepover with Hannah. She wondered if Olivia choosing this particular shirt was coincidence, or if she had remembered that it was hers. Accompanying the shirt was a pair of light gray sweatpants, much too long for her, but comfortable. They must have been Olivia's since she was quite a bit taller than her.

Harper came out of the bathroom, her hair now the only thing still damp. It would air dry in an hour or so. She was just glad to be inside and warm. "Do you want me to drive you home," Olivia offered. Harper didn't respond right away. Home was a place she didn't often want to be at. "Or you could stay here if you like. Andy isn't home tonight, so I wouldn't mind the company."

"I couldn't," Harper began to protest, finding her voice.

"You could," Olivia postulated. "Having you here almost makes it feel like Hannah is still here too."

Harper had to admit that she felt the same. She could look around this house and see Hannah grabbing snacks from the kitchen for their movie night, or hear her laugh at her dad's jokes. And who, more than the two of them, were mourning Hannah's loss more? Why shouldn't they find comfort in spending time with one another?

Harper put up no more arguments, and told Olivia that she would stay. She had the choice of the couch, or Hannah's room. She thought it best to stick to the couch. She wasn't sure she was ready to go into Hannah's room again, let alone sleep there. Besides, the couch beat anything she could have hoped for at home. As for her mother, she'd text her in the morning. She probably wouldn't even miss her.

Harper and Olivia stayed up to watch a couple of old sitcom reruns, made a little small talk, shared a memory or two about Hannah and Olivia finally bid her goodnight. Harper almost didn't want her to leave, but she was tired. More tired than she realized. It only really kicked in when Olivia went to bed. With a yawn, Harper laid down on the couch which was somehow more comfortable than her own bed at home. She soon fell into a dreamless sleep, feeling Hannah was, in some way, right there with her.