~Jonathan's POV~

My eyes were focused on the doorway. Where was she? The bell rang, yet Harleen had not made her way back to class. She was never late. My theory was that Pamela may have dragged on when speaking to her. I force myself to stay calm and not shift focus to the clock as today's lesson dragged on. The minutes went by ever so slowly, creating a weird feeling of panic inside of me. Harleen had still failed to show up.
Secret or not, She was the reason creative writing was my favorite class. Sure, we had other classes together. However in Creative Writing she sat right beside me. We both were towards the back of the class, which meant Harleen would always ask for the writing prompts. For some reason, Harleen insists that she can see the board perfectly fine. She even finds convenient explanations to why she could not see the chalk board. It's kind of adorable. I knew these explanations were not true because one day I tested my theory. I would say it took place maybe a week after she arrived at Gotham High. One day I decided to fib, telling her a prompt, which was not the one on the board. Instead of correcting me, she replied her usual reply, "Oh duh! I knew that." Don't worry, I never let Harleen turn in the wrong prompt. Before Harleen wrote anything down, I fixed it for her, My excuse was that my glasses were blurry. I do not understand why Harleen did not just bring along a pair of glasses to class.
Did I mind? Not really, I enjoyed her babbling an excuse off each day. Harleen had the most adorable smile on her face, when she thought she was getting away with something. Even though it was just a lie about not seeing the chalkboard.

Harleen Quinzel was the sweetest girl in our class. She always wrote the most positive, insightful and uplifting of everyone's stories. Of course her style was contrary to mine, but I loved her stories nonetheless. My writing was known to have a dark nature about them. Unlike most kids who thought of me to be a creep, or emo, Harleen never looked down on me for it. Never would she use the word strange to define me, or question what happened to me. She would always give her cute bright smile and applaud me for being creative and different.

Class went by and with each growing second I began to get more and more worried. Where was Harleen? Did Pamela upduct her? No, Harleen would never miss class. I place my headphones in my ears, the usual tactic I do when I am trying to avoid people and their conversations. My light blue eyes flicker to the doorway every few minutes in hopes to see her walk in. I started to draw to take my mind off things. Nonetheless, as time went on the sketches were resembling more and more like Harleen. I felt a slight surge of panic, seeing 15 minutes left in class. Okay, no way Pamela was talking this long. The distance was not far from the courtyard to the writing room. I pull up my hoodie, before exiting the room. Teacher's really did not care enough to question most Gotham High Students. I could easily roam the hallways, leaving class. Edward informed me, that some of the teachers were even scared of me. The credit and reasoning given to my experiment of course. Not that I would view teachers being scared of me as a bad thing. I smirk, liking the idea the more I thought about it. Moving on, I began to retrace the steps Harleen would have taken.

I open the door to the courtyard to find it completely empty. The chilling air blew against my face, a bitter cold feeling. I shiver, looking around as I entered the courtyard. Something was not right. In the snow, there were two handprints as if someone had fallen. They were small enough to be hers. I hoped the prints did not belong to Harleen. If she fell into one of these snowdrifts and became stuck her cold body would be half frozen right now. Especially being outside since the start of the block. The thought made me sick, my feeling did not get better any time soon. I caught sight of something, which brought even more concern. A recognizable red and pink notebook. The one Eddie and I would always question Harleen about because she never went anywhere without it. I bend down to the snow, picking up the cold book. How did this get out here? I wonder, looking around yet again. There was no sight of her. "Harleen?" I call out, going silent in hopes to hear a response.

I spent the last 15 minutes of Creative Writing and the first 5 minutes of lunch looking in the snow for her. My pale hands were tingling with coldness. The bell rang once more, yet I could not bring myself to leave. I gave one more look around before going inside. My hands were beginning to turn light blue from being outside so long. Maybe Harleen would be sitting next to Ed at our lunch table. I sigh, my hand's burning as I entered the cafeteria.
I can not say I was surprised to find Ed sitting alone at our table. He jumped when I sat down. I give him a weird look, why was he acting so paranoid lately?
Have you ever had a friend that you knew so well you could understand when something was up with them? Lately, I had that feeling with Eddie. He was flustered, secretive, and more distant than usual. It was hard to explain but I could definitely tell something was wrong with him. I asked once or twice but he would always strategical avoid my question. Ed was rather good at that.

I sit beside him at lunch, "You might as well glue that phone to your hands." I say plainly, picking up my slop most called a school lunch. Harleen would always tease that the inmates at Arkham had better food than Gotham High. I was starting to believe her with this latest addition of...Chicken? Maybe...it looked yellow.

Although I had spoken to him a couple a seconds ago Ed did not bother looking up at me. Instead, he held a finger signaling for me to hold. His hand gracefully, and quickly moved across the screen about faster than anyone I knew. "Ed-"I groan only to be cut off, again. Couldn't he tell this was important.

"Sorry but this is important.." Ed replied, a short and vague response..

"Must be because it's all you have been worrying about for the past few days. Are you sure something's not up?"

"No- if you ask me something is up with Harley." Edward replied, redirecting my attention back on Harleen.

I tilt my head, curious but confused. "What do you mean?" Besides having gone missing, she was acting as she always had. Happy, bubbly, a bit awkward but that was Harleen for you. I saw no difference in her.

"Oh really? Why would she be trying to hid that notebook so much, there must be something juicy in it, or some main secre.."

I roll my eyes, "Ed this isn't like those tv shows you watch, not everyone is hiding something big and dangerous-" Ed gave me a look. I knew what he was implying. He was aware of my after school work in the Chemistry labs. That I told Harleen, and everyone was for extra credit but I may not have been completely truthful. His smile widens, because he knew he was right. We all had our secrets, are sins. For some reason I could not believe that Harleen could be corrupted by us, by Gotham. Gotham was too dark for another light to go out.
Harleen was different. I could just tell.

I had seen her stand up against Pamela and others. She was strong, independent. I had more faith in her compared to anyone else that was actually from Gotham. Seeing myself distracted, Ed reaches out towards her diary, which sat beside me. I quickly snatch it from him, taking the book and placing it in my backpack. "No, it's Harleen's."

"If you insist." Ed gave a small shrug, but I could tell he was annoyed. He hated secrets, because it meant he didn't know something. "Riddle me this, why would someone who likes a girl, ignore the one clue he has to get to know her?" His question was accurate. Why wasn't I using this to my advantage.

"Maybe..." My voice trails off as I look back at my bag. He did have a point. Reading her journal may help me understand her better. Although...Did I really want to shatter the perfect image I had of Harleen. Her light blonde curly hair, her amazing blue eyes that always sparkled with excitement like newborn would have. Harleen was innocent to most of Gotham's sins, if not all of them. Meanwhile, everyone else in this school was practically falling apart, physically, emotionally and maybe even mentally. Selfishly, I chose to keep her privacy safe.

"If you would like I can read it first, you know how fast I can read." Ed offered, trying to get his hands on her work again.

"No." I say, for sure knowing that whatever was inside this neither of us should look at. It was a personal boundary of Harleens. I must respect that.

While me and Edward were arguing, I failed to see Pam walking up to our table. The first thing I heard was someone clearing their throat, which caused me look up. Pamela smiled, sitting down across from us. Well, that was surely odd. She never sat here, nor would he caught dead being scene with us without Harleen.

"Hello Edward Darling." She spoke with a soft smile on her face, "Jonathan." Her voice was so sweet. That's how I knew something was up. Pamela was never sweet. Edward's face was bright red with embarrassment. He remained way to focus in the chicken slop, pretending to eat it.

If Ed was not going to speak up, I would. "What do you want Pamela."

"Please, address me as Madame President, or else I will have to escort you to the office." She spoke with a wide grin. "For directly going against school policy."

"Fine. What do you want, Madame President." I roll my eyes, hearing how awful that sounded. Even the taste of those words felt wrong. How did she end up our leader? Everyone in the whole school knew it should have been Harvey. Harvey was the sane one between the two of them. The honest one. How could he lose?

Pamela flipped her hair back, taking no notice of my dismay. "Harley promised me she would help fulfill some of my presidency duties, Do either of you know where she is?" She pushed my books off the table in order to place her own book bag.

That was it. I could not deal with Pamela any longer. The feeling of pressure built up around me as I watched her disregard us. Everything started to slow down, as I felt annoyance boil through my veins. Deep inside, I had it with the way people like her treated people like, Oswald, Eddie, Harleen and myself. They assumed because we were quiet or nerds we were able to be pushed around. Everyone needed to stop belittling us, acting as if we weren't on their level. "First off-" I glare at Pam, "Harleen hates to be called Harley. She's asked you, all of us, many times to call her Harleen. Respect it." Pamela rolled her eyes. She was not listening to what I was saying or more importantly did not care. I continued on, the tension rising in my quiet voice. "Secondly, you should not be abusing her friendship, she respects and admires you. Harleen would do anything for her friends, stop taking advantage of it."

Her brow raised a bit, as I caught her attention. A sly little grin came across her face before Pamela chuckled, "ha" Once again her green eyes rolled as she turned to face me. Her expression was in amusement compared to my blank look. "Ha, You really think because of your little science accident you are sooo scary." She stood up, looming over me. Her eyes locked with mine, giving me a look. Pamela's usual tone of voice, which always held a false sense of sincerness, was long gone. "But Jonathan dear, you're just a nobody. You have no power, no respect, and are what I would call the bottom of the food chain. People like you and Harleen, you need me or else you'd be what again?" She paused, to see if I understood what she was implying. Her lips lowered towards my ear. "You should be the one afraid Jonathan. You do not want to make an enemy of an Isley-" She eyed Ed for a second, who had gone silent since her entrance. "I guarantee that."

Her ruby red lips parted to flash a devilish smile, as if I should fear her for that petty threat. Did I? Not really, she was just a self obsessed bitch from what I could see. A glorified mean girl. She liked the attention, power and never cared for anyone besides maybe her plants. There was no reason I should fear her. I mean, What was she going to do, poison me? She should be the one scared, not me. I could send her to the hospital because of the fears that lurked inside her. The one she's buried behind false confidence. Actually, I would love nothing more to hear her pitiful screams and watch her reality come crumbling down in front of her. Imagine, the thrill of watching her organic makeup flood down the sides of her face as she laid helpless to her own demons, and inner turmoil. The thought of her experiencing extreme fear made me smile.

"I'm not scared of anything." I said, adjusting my glasses so my light blue eyes could stare back at her.

"Neither am I." Pamela spoke with a smirk. She stood up to leave, because Pamela loved a dramatic exit. Only one problem with that statement was I knew Pamela was lying. Fear was something everyone could be a victim too, whether they were aware of it or not.

My eyes follow her silhouette as she left the cafeteria. A soft whisper escaped out from under my breath, "We'll see about that, Won't we Madame President."