Ain't That A Bite, Baby? » H.S. A.U.

♢ Chapter 6;

  When Dale said that his house wasn't that nice, I wasn't quite sure what I had expected. After a long day of touring as much of New York as we could (or the important parts, as Danny often reminded us), Harry and I had allowed Dale to guide us there. It was small—yes—but it wasn't something that I would have considered to be bad or run down as I may have expected. 

  "Okay, you stay back here, real quiet, ya' hear?" he asked in a low town, his brown eyes locking into mine briefly. I noticed a piece of lose hair that had fallen out of his slicked back hair onto his forehead. It looked really hot, but I told myself to not think about it.

  "Got it," we both agreed.

  He smiled mischievously, nodding his head with a raise of an eyebrow. He then winked at me, I guess noticing my strong drawn attention to him, before he scurried away around the corner of the white house to the front door, leaving Harry and I alone for the first time in hours. 

  Regardless of the fact that we had been together all day, we had talked very few times due to his connection to Rita's hip—not that I was complaining, honestly. I was hoping to avoid any long conversations with him generally. 

  But while we both stood there silently, feeling the breeze blow both of us over, he spoke up. "Been a pretty busy day, don't you think?"

  I looked up at him, locking my blue ones with his. "Yeah." I laughed nervously.

  "You didn't talk much," he said. "I mean we didn't at least. You talked to Dale a lot."

  Dale's a nice person.

  "I don't love talking to you, if we're being honest here," I replied confidently, licking my lips before I ran my hands through my hair. I really needed to shower. 

  He raised an eyebrow, a reaction that wouldn't have been extracted from most people. Though I could see that he was slightly offended (maybe a bit surprised), he was doing an utterly exquisite job at covering it up. "Why is that?"

  "You're kind of really mean, Harry." I promised myself to not look away from him, and I didn't. But he did, laughing to the ground before looking back up. "Why are you laughing?"

  "It's just—"

  Suddenly, the window then opened, Dale's head popping out soon after. "Guys hurry and get in here. My dad took my door off, we only have a second."

  "He took your door off just now?" I asked, feelings stupid after I did so.

  He laughed, pleasantly surprising me. "No, c'mon. That's something to explain tomorrow."

  I nodded timidly, still a bit embarrassed, but Harry climbed in the window, and everyone was soon too distracted to even notice. I followed, putting one leg through, and then the other, standing onto the carpet of Dale's bedroom. 

  His room was a bit on the tiny side, decorated quite plainly with a quilt on his bed and matching a matching dresser and night stand close by. The only things really giving the room character were the comic books spread all over, and the maps hung on the wall. 

  "You have a lot of comic books," Harry whispered, scoping the room just as I was.

  "Yeah, my dad hates them. Says they make me crazy or whatever." He opened the closet. "My closet is pretty small, but I sat lots of blankets and stuff in there. Gotta hurry, guys."

  Harry went towards it with no argument, but I was hesitant, stopping in my steps. "Wait, we both go in there?"

  Dale's eyebrows came together, a puzzled expression across his features. "Yeah. You guys are pretty close anyway, right?"