Phantom [h.s]

Ten

watch Ria as she takes a few deep breaths, chewing on her lip. She shouldn't be so nervous if she has nothing to hide.

I cross my arms over my chest and wait.

Finally, she shuts her eyes for a moment and opens them, looking at me.

"I did know someone named Harry," she says.

I nod slightly, egging her on. The air outside is cool, and the sky is dark, with stars beginning to show up in the sky. Traces of the sunset remain by the horizon, a faded yellow against the dark blue of the night.

Ria runs a hand through her hair.

"Something happened last summer," she says. "Something bad."

"It had to do with Harry?"

She swallows and nods. "Yeah."

I knew this. Obviously.

"What was it?"

"It's all very vague," she says, her face twisting in recollection. "The last time I saw him was a Friday night in June. At a party."

I raise an eyebrow. "Last time?"

"Harry..." She looks away, her light brown eyes filled with something I can't decipher. Grief? Nostalgia? Sadness?

Guilt?

"Harry what?"

She sighs sadly. "He committed suicide."

I widen my eyes. Suicide? No. She has to be lying...unless Harry is lying to me.

Why would Harry lie to me? Why would he reach out to me for my help if he wasn't murdered? It doesn't make any sense.

Harry isn't lying.

Either Ria is lying, or she was lied to.

"Oh, God," I say, furrowing my brow. "That's...horrible."

She nods. "Yeah. I know."

"Do you know why?"

"Why what?"

"Why he...killed himself."

Ria shakes her head. "No."

She's taking advantage of the fact that I'm new to town. Either that, or she was oblivious to the murder case that was closed a month after Harry's murder. This doesn't add up.

"I should get back." Ria brushes past me and back into the room, leaving me on the balcony.

A couple seconds later I decide to follow her back to the parlor.

Everyone is where they were, but Ria is gone.

I stand beside Max and Oliver at the minibar. Jenna and Adam play what I can guess is a game of BS, cards in their hands. Estella has moved from next to Ava in the armchair to where I was previously sitting on the couch, four empty cups in front of her. Ava leans her head back on the chair, staring at the ceiling. I don't see Nate anywhere.

"Where's Ria?" I ask Max.

"Went home, I think," he answers. "Said she was tired."

I nod. Tired of my questioning, no doubt.

"Want another drink?" Oliver offers.

"No, I have to drive home," I say, shooting him a smile. I wish I didn't have to drive, so I could have another drink, and then another and another. Just like I used to.

"Two drinks won't wreck you," Max says, draping an arm over my shoulders. "Plus, no one drives much at night around here."

All too conscious of his arm around me, I shrug. Oliver smiles and begins mixing different liquors.

"You know, you're pretty quiet," Max says to me, still leaning on me slightly.

"I don't know, I guess I don't have much to say." I look over at him, half smiling.

"No, I think you do," he says as Oliver hands me another drink. "I think you have plenty to say."

I try to ignore the odd feeling I get when he says that to me as I sip my drink. I feel almost uneasy by those words. Does he know something I don't? Does he think I'm hiding something?

"I guess I'll try to be less quiet, then," I say, smirking and knowing that I won't. Quiet is in my nature now, and I'm not going to change that.

I eye the clock on the wall. It blurs before my vision for a second, but I blink and put my drink down. The time reads ten after eight.

I've got time.

In the next three hours, I find myself having another drink, and plopping back onto the couch, squished between Max and Jenna in a game of BS. Estella wanted to play, and it took fifteen minutes for her drunken mind to understand the rules Adam explained.

Ava, though, just decided to smoke and watch us play.

I ignore her.

I haven't been this social in a very, very long time.

And I actually don't hate it-just dislike. A little. Maybe.

At eleven, I sigh and push myself off the couch.

"Whoa, where are you going?" Max pulls my wrist back so that I fall back onto the couch. He laughs, and in my slightly intoxicated state, I laugh along.

"I'm going home," I tell him, extracting my wrist from his hand and standing again.

"So soon, though?" Ava asks.

It's the first time she's verbally acknowledged me tonight, and it throws me off a little bit.

"Yes," I say. "My curfew is midnight."

She raises an eyebrow and takes a drag of her cigarette. She says nothing.

I bid everyone goodnight and try to remember the way out of this monolithic house as I exit the parlor.

I almost trip over my feet on the way down the stairs, but stabilize myself on the railing. I feel like I should find Nate and thank him for hosting me, but there are so many people here that I discard the thought.

I find my way to my car and drive home.

The lights are all off at my house when I pull into the driveway.

I unlock the kitchen door and let myself in, trying to shut it as quietly as I can.

"Eleven twenty, just in time."

I widen my eyes at my father who fills a cup with water at the sink, in his pajamas.

"Luckily, your mom's in bed. I told her you went exploring through town."

I furrow my brow. "Exploring through town? Why the hell-"

"She bought it, so don't complain. Now, get your booty to bed."

"Booty?"

My father ruffles my hair and I duck away from him before he can do it again, hurrying up the stairs and stifling laughs.

I shut the door to my room behind me.

I toss my jacket on my bed and pull my hair into a ponytail. I smile at myself goofily in the mirror, still slightly drunk.

Then I remember what Ria told me.

And that I'm supposed to meet Harry in the clearing.

I quickly lock my door and move to the window, opening it and climbing out to the ledge.

Damn acrophobia.

I shut my eyes and slide down the vine, not opening them until I feel the solid ground hit the soles of my feet.

I cross the backyard quickly, the light of the moon keeping me company. I slip through the gate and run down the path until I see the huge trunk of the willow, and the boy sitting on one of the swings.

"Finally," Harry says when I enter the clearing, breathless. "Living people are so slow."

I catch my breath, sitting on the other swing. "My sincerest apologies," I snap sarcastically, still breathing heavily.

Harry smirks. "How was the party?" He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. "Sick, wasn't it? Did you go in the pool? Did you play pool? Did you see the liquor cabinet? Did you hang out in the parlor? God, I miss going to those parties."

His tone is so excited that I start to laugh, and he laughs with me.

"It was cool, actually," I say. "I had some drinks, that's why I'm so..." I start to laugh again, failing to come up with an adjective.

"Perky?" Harry half smiles.

"Perky," I agree, smiling widely for the first time in ages.

His smile fades and I know he's going to ask me about what I found out.

"I talked to Ria tonight," I say.

He nods. "And?"

"She told me she knew you, and the last time she saw you was a Friday night in June, at a party."

"That sounds about right."

I take a breath. "She also told me that you committed suicide."

Harry's eyebrows shoot up. "Suicide?"

I nod, chewing on my lip.

"She's either wrong or lying," he says.

"That's what I thought," I say.

"I had no reason to kill myself," he says, brow furrowed. "My life was...great. Really great." He shakes his head. "Plus, if I had committed suicide, I wouldn't have unfinished business, so I wouldn't be stuck here."

"Why would she lie?" I ask.

"Ria is no liar. Never was."

"I got that vibe."

Harry leans back on the swing, looking up at the long strands of the willow tree thoughtfully. His pale skin glows in the moonlight, his pale lips resting in a concentrated frown.

He is beautiful.

He is dead.

"Can I ask you something?"

His eyes move back to me.

"How did you know about my...you know. Scars." Blush rises to my cheeks.

"You wore short sleeves the day you moved in. I was watching you that day."

Coming from anyone else, I would feel violated. But from him, I feel comforted.

"And you just...noticed them?" I push my sleeve up and squint at the marks on my skin. "They're so pale now."

He's quiet and when I look up he's staring down at my exposed arm. I pull my sleeve back down.

He looks back into my eyes.

"Where's the necklace?" He asks suddenly.

I reach for the chain I've gotten used to being around my neck, but grasp empty air. I panic for a moment, and then remember.

"Ava was there, so I took it off." I pull the delicate necklace from my pocket.

Harry scoffs. "Ava." He rolls his eyes and I stifle a laugh.

"Hard to believe you dated her."

"She's a good kisser, is all."

I wrinkle my nose. "Didn't need that information."

Harry smiles.

I unclasp the necklace and push my hair over my shoulder.

"Let me," Harry says, standing from his swing, motioning for me to do the same. I rise to my feet. He walks around to behind me and takes the necklace from my fingers, sliding it around my neck and clasping it. His fingers are like ice on my skin and a shiver runs through me. The necklace falls to the middle of my chest, cold from his touch.

He stays standing behind me, whispers of cold dancing on my skin.

"Thank you," I say.

"Anytime."

I turn around to face him. He looks down at me, and it takes for me to be this close to him to see the true height difference between us. He has a few inches on me, his figure lanky and tall. The top of my head is level with his nose.

Silence hangs between us, and all I can think is how glad I am Ria is wrong about his suicide. If I had learned that he succeeded at the thing I failed to do, I don't know how I would react.

I feel determination leak into my heart. I will help him find his killer, if it's the last thing I do. He deserves it.

He is beautiful.

He is dead.