Relapse / / h.s.

Chapter Twenty-Six.

It had been two weeks. No calls. No texts. Not even the slightest hint as to where Harry could be. If I knew him like I thought I did, his lack of communication with anyone meant that he didn't want to be found. I can't say that it didn't sting a little.

"He's going to turn up," My mother told me with a sigh. "You can't just bum around the house all day."

  I stretched my toe, watching the fabric of my fuzzy purple socks move up with my big toe. I wasn't bumming... I was just waiting. Waiting for a call or a text or anything. I hadn't gone more than a week without talking to Harry since I'd met him at the beginning of the summers

   "I'm not bumming, mom," I groaned. My phone lit up beside me and I grabbed for it quickly, frowning when I saw it wasn't Harry, but Amelia.

    "Hello?" I said into my iPhone. My mom raised an eyebrow and I shook my head. She worried about Harry, too. Granted, she never said anything. I just knew she did.

   "Hey, you busy?" She asked.

  I stared down at my baggy pajama pants. "No. Why? What's up?"

  "Great," she said quickly. "I'll be at your house in, like, fifteen minutes. Be ready."

  Before I could demand an explanation, she hung up the phone. I groaned loudly as I pulled myself off the sofa and upstairs into my bedroom. I quickly changed into the first things I spotted- a pair of black leggings and a sweater sporting some sports team I didn't care enough to know anything about.

   Amelia was already there when I made my way back downstairs. I knew I should have been at least pleased to see her, but I doubted she knew any more about Harry's whereabouts than i did.

   "Come on," she waved. "Ashton's in the car. We have to go."

   "What?" I asked. "Where are we going?"

  "Harry's moms house," she rolled her eyes, as if I should have already known that. "Come on."

   I called a  goodbye over my shoulder at my mother, but didn't hear her call one back because Amelia pulled me so quickly out of the door. Sure enough Ashton was sitting in the drivers seat of his rusted truck, drumming his fingers into the steering wheel. His hair was shorter now than what it had been the last time I'd seen him.

  "Harry's mom says he stopped by a couple days ago," he told me after I'd buckled myself into the backseat and he'd started off down the street. "She wants us to come by." 

  "This boy has us on a witch-hunt," Amelia laughed to herself, turning the music up loud and bobbing her head back and forth. I wondered if she found this all amusing- like some sort of game where she wins a prize if she finds what's missing.

    We pulled up in front of a massive farm-style home about twenty minutes later. It was painted white, with blue shutters and even a white-picket fence. There was even a welcome mat at the front door. I had to stop myself at laughing at the idea of Harry here. He'd think the welcome mat was so pretentious.

    Ashton only knocked once before someone came to greet us. She was a woman, maybe in her early forties. I'd met her once before, in the hospital. Even now it blew me away how much she resembled Harry.

   "Thank you for coming," she smiled, pulling each of us into a quick hug. Her smile was even the same as Harry's. "I tried calling him once i got your call. No luck."