Broken Defender

Chapter Four ~ "I'm Harry"

Saturday's are boring. It's better than being at school though, so I guess I couldn't complain. As I commonly would, I decided to go to the library and find something to read... It really was silly that I had to decide this as I visited the library almost religiously on Saturday's. Fantasy worlds were more interesting than mine anyway. It was foggy outside, and very chilly, so I threw on my favorite purple sweater before walking out of the door. It was probably too chilly for just a sweater, but I didn't plan on staying out long.

When I looked up, my eyes unexpectedly locked with the boy's from yesterday. He stood outside of his door, wearing a brown coat over a plain white shirt. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his dark wash jeans, relaxed. He smiled back at me, probably out of politeness. The two of us began walking, almost in sync with one another. I made my way down the steps of my porch, and down the sidewalk just as he did. I wondered if he had noticed the likeness? It was kind of awkward. I made it to the end of my walk, and turned left in the direction of the library. My heart pounded when I saw he had made the decision to turn right, heading up the same way that I was headed. Both of us were on opposite ends of the street now, walking in the same direction, at the same pace. This was a bit uncomfortable. I started to walk a tad faster, trying to offset our unintentional tempo, but I could tell that he was much taller than me, and in turn able to walk just as fast, if not faster than I, in longer strides. I looked forward, attempting to ignore him, setting my sights on the sidewalk in front of me.

"I'm Harry." His voice announced, louder than I would have expected.

I fell back yelping in fright, turning and seeing that he was beside me now. I lost my balance, and he caught my forearm, pulling me back into him. I took a breath, and looked up at his face. He was grinning at me. Dimples dug into his cheeks handsomely, his eyes were a bright shade of green. It was a bit odd that I had noticed that much about his appearance in just my little slip alone.

"I'll try again." He spoke, still laughing a bit.

"I'm Harry." He said again, releasing his hand from my arm, and holding it out to shake mine.

I took his hand, instinctively shaking it casually. My hand felt small in his, my eyes focused down on his mindlessly.

"Suzanne." I said plainly, informally. Our hands parted, and mine dug into the yarn of my sweater timidly.

"I uh, just moved in." He said, nodding toward his house.

His voice was deep, his words drawled out in a slow and relaxed accent, unfamiliar in this part of the country... come to think of it, unfamiliar in this country entirely.

"Are you British?" I asked, cutting to the forefront of my curiosity.

That was probably rude, but I was intrigued. He smirked, blinking knowingly, as if he had answered that question a lot recently.

"My Mum is." He started.

"Well technically I am too." He added, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"My uh, my dad's in the Marine Corps... or he was."

I started to walk again, assuming he would follow me in order to finish his story. He did.

"He's from Nebraska... which is where we moved from actually... from Omaha" He clarified.

He trudged along beside me, calmly, as if he had known me all of his life. I didn't intimidate him, which wasn't a surprise as I was the small one in this impromptu pairing. I was the socially awkward girl he had struck up conversation with. If anything I should have been intimidated by him... yet currently he didn't intimidate me at all.

"Wait, I'm confused." I said, stopping him.

"You're British, but you're Nebraskan..." I interpreted. He shook his head.

"My dad was stationed in Britain eighteen years ago. He met my mum, they hooked up... got married, I came close after that." He elucidated, making sense of the madness that was his entire life story... well not his entire life story.

For some reason this interested me. Maybe the fact that he was a total stranger, a talkative total stranger at that. I hadn't expected him to be talkative

"My dad was away a lot when I was little... in combat. I lived there for eleven years before we moved to America... Now I'm here." He continued.

I nodded my head. How did I get from knowing his name, to knowing his background? I guess I had asked though.

"Am I giving you too much information?" He asked, suddenly seeming more standoffish than he had been seconds before.

"It's just, hard to clarify my accent, and you asked... so." He looked back at me, the two of us still walked side by side.

He was quiet now, as if speaking that much right off had left him confused. I wondered if he suddenly felt awkward around me, especially considering I now had the upper hand. I knew everything about him now, and he knew virtually nothing about me.

"Where are you going?" He questioned, looking ahead.

Now he was just making conversation for the sake of conversation. He really didn't seem comfortable leading the small talk, so I took over.

"Library." I answered, looking ahead.

This wasn't out of the ordinary for Saturday's... though his presence was.

"I like to read." I added, giving him a break from forming questions to ask me.

"Oh." He said plainly.

"Can I tag along?" He asked, smiling back at me.

My heart jumped into my throat. That wasn't the same smile he had given me a second ago. That was a different smile, more mischievous... I didn't know what to make of it.

"Uh, sure." I said, not even feeling entitled to deny him.

"Where were you going?" I asked, remembering he had been on his way somewhere too.

"I figured I'd scope out the town. I guess you could give me a tour." He said, brushing his curly brown hair out of his eyes, and dropping his arm to his side again, bumping mine unknowingly.

I wasn't exactly the best person to give him a tour of the town, but I agreed. Though I hated this place... I guessed my descriptions would be honest.