Needle and Thread

16

"Where've you been?" Luke asks, handing Harry a bottle of water from the school vending machine. "Haven't seen you around much lately."

"Here. There. Everywhere," Harry shrugs, purposefully evasive, taking the water and cracking it open. He gulps it down gratefully, letting the chilled liquid cool him from the inside out. Sweat and grime stains his skin from their football practice, gluing his kit to his body and blades of grass to his skin.

Luke pauses while opening his own drink. He looks worried. "Is everything okay? Like, at home or something? I know your grandma can be kind of-" He twirls a finger at his temple "-eccentric."

Harry shakes his head, offering a close-lipped smile. "Nah, everything's good."

"Good, good." Luke sighs.

They both lean against the wall outside the locker room, side by side as they wordlessly sip on their water. It's awkward between them in a way it has never been before, like one wrong word will crack the fragile facade of their friendship. One wrong move, and it's game over.

"I haven't spoken to him," Harry says when he notices the questioning tilt of Luke's mouth. "I'm pretty sure he's enjoying the distance."

Luke's quizzical expression turns confused, and then surprised. "Who? Brandon?"

"Well, yeah," Harry frowns, "Who else would I be talking about?"

"I dunno, I thought that maybe..."

"You thought that maybe what?"

"I thought you might have meant Jj."

Harry almost physically recoils. The last thing he expected to discuss with Luke is his relationship with Jj who, until last week, was barely more than a blip on his radar. "Why?" He asks, trying to be nonchalant instead of defensive. He's not convinced his efforts are successful.

"Well, I mean, you did kinda ditch us for him at Alex's party," Luke explains, his mouth drooping a little sadly. Harry never thought he would care so much. "Then you guys got paired up for that biology assignment, and now..."

"Now?"

Luke shakes his head, ruffling a large hand through his sweat dampened hair. "I'm just confused. Are you friends with the guy? Are you dating him? Like, what's the script?"

What. The. Fuck.

Harry swallows harshly, taming the oncoming panic with silent affirmations. Luke is a nice, friendly guy. There's nothing outwardly aggressive about his line of questioning, nor does he seem even remotely disgusted by the idea of two guys dating each other. It's fine. Everything is fine. Harry is safe.

"No, I'm not dating him," He tries, but it's weak; a thin, weedy response with no strength, no power, no conviction.

"But you want to." Luke is no idiot. Three years is plenty enough time to figure out when a friend is lying, and when that very same friend is telling the truth. He notices Harry's wide eyed panic and places a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Look, I won't say anything. I'm not an asshole."

"I know," Harry nods, his voice tight. His eyes prickle with tears he refuses to let fall. "Thanks, by the way. You're a good friend, Luke."

"And you better remember it," He grins.

"See you at lunch tomorrow?"

Harry tries a wobbly smile of his own.

"Yeah, see you at lunch."