Scrabble | Harry Styles

8

I didn't know him. Rather - I'd barely even known of him. But suddenly it all mattered. It was of such significance now, because he'd gone from the boy sitting in the row behind me in History, to the one on the news and in a body bag.

"I'm just.. I think I'm still in shock," Vic shook her head slowly, leaning back further into Zayn's couch, "I think we all are."

"It doesn't feel real," Liz added, her hand gently resting on Liam's shoulder, as he stared directly ahead of him, his own hand resting on the inside of her knee. 

"Blair, you haven't said much," Zayn pointed out, reaching over to nudge my wrist, stirring me from my thoughts. 

"Oh, sorry," I looked up from my lap, bringing my lip between my teeth, "it's just a lot to wrap my head around, y'know." And truthfully, it was. But for that very reason that I felt almost selfish. It was an odd, unexplainable selfishness simply due to the fact that I didn't know him. Yet here we were, jolted by his loss all the same. 

I figured it was the details that were the most shocking - despite the fact that we didn't know them yet. It was the idea in itself that somebody could murder somebody. This was the type of thing you'd see on low-budget crime shows, or at most, national news - but in our town? For somebody in our town - somebody who only weeks ago had been seated in a classroom chair among us all, was now dead. 

Murder. The word was almost foreign. It was like a myth - it didn't really happen. The loss of life at the hands of somebody else - it was unheard of. That was what had shifted us all in such a way; the foreignness of it all. The idea of anybody inflicting harm onto anyone else in our town; in our own content bubble of a town, was just ludicrous. And all of a sudden, it was a reality.

"Blair, I'm gonna make some tea. Come help me?" Zayn stood up all of a sudden, and I nodded.

"Yeah, sure," I stood up to follow him into the kitchen. He grabbed some mugs, setting them down onto the counter.

"This whole thing is just mad, isn't it?" he blew out a breath, shaking his head. "I mean, what the fuck?"

I sighed, pressing my lips together, "I need to call my parents," I said, realising I'd yet to do so. "I should also call Harry.." I trailed off hesitantly, unsure if that was selfish of me, also. I needed to call him so that he knew not to pick me up from school, but I didn't know his number. Regardless, I was sure he would've heard the news by now, but he still didn't know where I was - if he even cared to.

"Harry?" Zayn raised his eyebrows, going back to making the cups of tea, "oh, that's right. You two went on a date this morning. Distract me from our real-life horror movie with the details, will you?"

"It wasn't a date," I swallowed, almost thankful for my own distraction, as well. 

"It definitely was. Or, at least - he likes you enough to take you on one soon. He spoke to me, I'm not dumb," Zayn returned, as I turned to get the carton of milk from the fridge. 

"I mean.. yeah, it was just.. lovely. He's lovely." I thought back to how Harry had mentioned speaking to Zayn. "What did he say to you?"

"He just wanted to know where he could find you. Nothing too special," Zayn took the milk from me, pouring some into each mug. "I'm guessing he dropped you at school. I reckon I have his number jotted down somewhere by the phone if you fancy looking. I don't mind if you ring him."

I nodded, walking towards the table of papers, the phone mounted to the wall above it. I ran my fingers over the sheets of papers, finding company phone numbers along with names I didn't recognise. My eyes landed on Harry's name, scrawled messy in Zayn's handwriting, along with a number below it.