Peggy √ [Editing]

III.

"I'm not being replaced, am I?" Francis asks suspiciously as he watches Harry sit at our table for lunch. "Because I won't stand for it. I'm the best friend, not this guy," he adds. I raise an eyebrow at him, knowing full well that he's trying to put on a show.

"I-I'm not trying to steal her away," Harry says nervously as he nervously takes a large bite from his apple. "I'm just trying to be her friend, that's all."

"Uh huh, sure," Francis says as he leans forward to give him a 'suspicious' look. "Listen here buddy, if you break her heart in any way, you're answering to me."

"Francis, that's enough," I say seriously as I elbow his side. "Stop trying to scare off a potential new friend."

"I'm not looking to break her heart, promise," Harry says as he holds up hid hand in surrender. His eyes flicker over to meet mine and he sends me a shy smile. "I um, what do you two usually talk about?" he asks in an effort to change the subject.

"Right now it's mostly been about colleges," I say as I take a bite from my slice of cold pizza. "I'm applying to Stanford and Berkeley for medicine."

"Stanford's been looking at me," Harry comments. "They want me to be on their soccer team."

"You're that good?" Francis asks as he shoves several fries into his mouth. "Fuck, Meg, maybe we should actually go to a game," he says.

"You haven't been to one?" Harry asks, both surprised and mildly offended.

"No, not really," I say, shrugging. "I went to a game once, but my leg started to fall off and some of the other students around me noticed. They tried to take it, and they probably would have, had my dad not been there."

"Who did that?" Harry asks immediately, his eyes flashing with anger. 

"It doesn't matter," Francis says hastily. "We haven't been to one since, but now that we're friends with you, I think we're obligated to go to the rest of the games for this year."

"You don't have to," Harry says. "My friends don't go, so I wouldn't expect you two to go," he adds sheepishly. I can't help but frown at his words. His friends don't go to his games?

"Well now we've got to go," Francis groans. "What kind of friends would we be if we didn't show up to your games?"

"Shitty ones," I answer for Harry. "There's a game on Friday, right?"

"Oh, uh, yeah there is," Harry says shyly. He seems amazed that we're actually planning on going. "But you really don't have to. I don't want you to have to worry about someone harassing you."

"We'll just sit at the top of the bleachers. People don't usually sit up there," I reply. "Though, I do want to actually to see what's happening..." I muse quietly.

"You could always sit with my mum and sister," Harry offers. "They always sit at the front and they're both intimidating enough to scare people away." Francis and I glance at each other before nodding. For the rest of lunch, we continue talking and I feel myself getting more impressed with how Harry's handling himself. I know he really only meant to be my friend, but since Francis is always around, he also has to be friends with him.

I know that he can be a handful sometimes and I really like that Harry's making such a big effort. It shows that he really does care and isn't trying to do this because he feels obligated to. It's weird becoming friends with Harry but I welcome the unfamiliar feeling. It feels nice to have another friend at this school, even if I had made it in the last couple months that I'd be here. It's anyone's guess to whether or not we would keep in touch after high school, even if we both went to Stanford. I know that I'll always be friends with Francis, but with Harry, I'm a little unsure.