Disclaimer: I do not own Slowly (the song Sterling sings), it is property of Coconut Records.

Two

Harper

People scare me.

Every time I walk alone, like to Expresso to grab a milkshake or to Verdana Tunes, I can feel people's eyeballs searing into the back of my head or at the clothes I wear. I can practically hear their thoughts, some observant and some judgmental—"Oh, it's a girl wearing a black leather jacket, a floral dress, Doc Martens and fingerless gloves and a purple ribbon in her hair! She must be nice." or "A leather jacket and a floral dress? Fingerless gloves? Who does she think she is?" or when I play the guitar—"Aw, what a lovely sound she's strumming!" or "She's not even that good, I bet she's just showing off or picking up boys or whatever. Do you see that guy over there? Yeah, him. He is totally ogling her, but I'm not even sure at which: the guitar or her. Probably the former."

You can't please everyone, but the thought that even people with the best intentions get judged and put down makes hiding into the deepest, darkest corners of my mind sound so inviting. Sometimes, the calm and seclusion within your head is solace to the chaos around you. It's okay to retreat once in a while. But if you hide too long, you might forget the strong person you were, and the world might forget, too. And that's when things get bad.

"You think a little too much, Harper," Sterling Radisovich Daagenhart playfully nudged me. We were seated on the roof of my house, observing the gliding cotton balls of vapour and the twinkling spheres of hot gas. The tiles of the roof were rough but cool to the skin, and we brought up sheets and blankets in case it got too cold.

"When you're alone a lot, that's pretty much the only thing you're left to do," I remarked. Sterling laughed. "You're not alone a lot. You're always with Perry or Fred and the others. If you're not with them, you're with me." His smile was a big, cheerful one. He closed his eyes and let the wind tousle his hair.

"And if I'm not with you?" I challenged.

His eyes were still closed. He was clearly enjoying the wind. "You're with the air. The trees. The stars. Your guitar. You're never alone, wherever you go."

"That's kind of creepy, you know." I said. "You make it sound like someone's stalking me and is with me every time I take a shower."

Sterling laughed. "Of course someone watches you every time you take a shower. It's such an interesting thing to do, I don't know who wouldn't want to see you clean yourself."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Your sarcasm sometimes makes you come off as a tit, you know."

"They do say that you tend to act like the people you're always with," he said in a singsong tone. I'd have hit him on the shoulder, but it would risk him tumbling down the roof. And I definitely would not want that.

"Whatever," I dismissed. It was perfect time for ambient silence to settle in, if not for the slamming doors, squeaking shoes and yelling voices coming from underneath us.

"Are we always this loud?" I asked him.

Sterling shrugged. "It depends. I'm guessing tonight was a busy night?" he leaned back and breathed deeply. "So, how was Lesbian Vampire Killers?"

I shook my head and shuddered at the mention of the awful movie. "It was absolutely horrible. The guys loved it, though."

"Colour me surprised," Sterling remarked. "Any awful movie that has lesbians in it is its saving grace. I think it's proven with your siblings."

"Siblings?" I asked, surprised. "Noel? He's too young to…"

"No, not Noel." Sterling said. "Fred."

I looked at him curiously. We've been mates for maybe two years even though we've known each other almost our whole lives; I expected that he already knew about Fred's situation. "He isn't my brother, legally. We're just his guardians until we can find his dad."

"No, he's family. You're his only family." Sterling spoke thoughtfully. "He's lived with his own parents for around seven years, yeah? And for around three or four years, he lived with just his dad who in the later years, barely came home. He learned how to support himself. Then gradually he started sleeping and bumming around here. He never knew when his father was coming back to at least check up on him, but he knew that you guys were always here; ready to take him in whenever and to care for him like he was a Marleuve. And to me, that's what a real family is." The wind played with his dog tag, which jingled. He was wearing what he usually wore: a blazer with the sleeves pushed up, a t-shirt underneath, jeans and a variety of sneakers. I rarely saw him in just a shirt.

I was quiet for a while. "When you put it that way…He is my sibling. And I love every bit of him, flaws and all." I smiled to myself while tugging the sleeve of my henley over my palm. "Like my dad says, 'Flaws are what make you a Marleuve. We do not strive for success, what's important is that we know every inch of ourselves before we chase something that is ultimately not meant for us in the end.'"

"Exactly." Sterling gazed at me with his electric blue eyes. I felt electricity jolt through my bloodstream.

A question that I had forgotten to ask popped up in my head. "Sterling," I began. "Where were you awhile ago? The whole day really. We missed you at Addie's."

"Hey!" A voice called from my window. "It's getting late and it's getting colder. Come in for some hot cocoa."

"We'll be right down, Perry." Sterling answered cheerfully as he tidied up the blankets and sheets. "I just had something to do with the family. Come on now, ladies first."

I carefully made my way towards the edge of the roof. I let my foot dangle and I tried to feel around for my windowsill. Once I felt it, I lowered myself onto it and gripped the edge of the roof. I held onto the top of my window with one hand as I slipped inside my room. Sterling swiftly followed, as if climbing out and into a window was something he was used to. As far as I remember, his window was far too hard to climb out of.

"Is Perry upstairs?" Sterling asked, referring to what we called 'headquarters'. It was a room above ours that had couches, beanbags, a flat screen TV, game consoles, a stocked mini-refrigerator, a bathroom, tons of DVDs and video tapes, a stereo, a hot tub, a skylight and two beds. Some of our things that were too big to fit in our rooms were there—my drum kit, Perry's foosball, my dad's billiards and the karaoke machine. My dad always had people over for work and almost all the time, our friends would be there, so he had the room built for us to hang out in. It was meant for our friends, Noel's friends and Cree's friends (back when she was in high school) although we use it the most. Our sleepovers always took place there, unless it would just be Dakota or Addie sleeping over. It also provided as a hideout in the event that someone holds us hostage, which is why there are no solid stairs leading to it from our rooms—just the foldable ones, the kind you pull out from the ceiling. The only rooms that led to headquarters were mine, Perry's, Cree's and Noel's. If Fred wanted to go there, he had to go to either of those rooms. He preferred going to Cree's room, though, since it bothered her that he could "figure girls out".

"Yeah," I said, gesturing towards the stairs, which were down. They were up and folded when no one was upstairs. "Go on ahead. Feel at home. I've got to do something for a while."

Sterling paused before answering. "Alright, then," he stated, and ascended the stairs, creaking with his steps.

I sighed heavily and checked on my Flipper Messenger. There were three messages from schoolmates asking when the English test would be and what the topics were, if anyone had weed and if anyone knew when the drug test would take place. I exited those messages and replied to a few messages from acquaintances saying 'hi'. I set the iMac on sleep mode and went upstairs. Perry, Sterling and Fred were on the couch, watching the telly and sipping mugs of steaming cocoa.

"Any interesting show on?" I asked. I headed to one of the beds and flopped on my belly, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Nah, but some '90s Nickelodeon shows are on." Fred answered, throwing crisps into his mouth. Unlike the others, he seemed to feel warm. Probably from the energy hardcore chewing of crisps gave off. "I've missed Ren and Stimpy."

"I've always liked Rocko's Modern Life the best," Perry commented. "I couldn't figure out his accent for some reason."

"He's a wallaby," Sterling noted. "I reckon he's Australian or Kiwi." He leaned back and took a sip of steaming cocoa.

"I loved Rugrats," I spoke, my voice echoing in my throat. Right then, I just wanted to fall asleep. I was so tired even though I didn't do much today. I positioned myself in such a way that I could see them but they couldn't tell if I was awake or not.

"All Grown Up! wasn't too great," Fred remarked. "Kimi didn't appear in much episodes, either. She was the cutest."

Sterling nodded enthusiastically. "She definitely was," he said. "But Lil was pretty cool, too."

"I like her the best." Perry said. I heard the crinkling of the bag of crisps. "She's into football. She's not like other girls."

At this moment, I knew it was best that I pretended to fall asleep. If they knew I was awake, they wouldn't continue with their intriguing conversation of girls and the kinds they like and dislike. I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing.

"That's very true," Fred agreed. "Though at the same time, she was a little girly. Wasn't she talking about boys during a few episodes? Like, she wanted to impress one of them but Phil embarrassed her?" he chewed noisily on the crisps.

"And she fancied that Z guy, the one with the Mohawk and leather jacket and all." Sterling added. "Still, she's pretty cool."

"There aren't much girls like her, you know?" Fred thought out loud. He supped the Coca Cola. "Lots of girls nowadays aren't game for getting dirty and covered up with soil and all. They're not into video games and stuff we like, yeah."

"That's not true," Perry said. "Harper's into video games. So is Haley. And Addie is on the field hockey team!"

"Mm, isn't she?" Sterling asked.

Fred protested. "Well, yeah, but I did say 'lots of girls', not 'every girl', right?" he leaned back on the couch, a smug smile on his face. "What do you fancy in a girl, Sterling?"

Sterling thought for a while. I felt the jitters all over; I could almost feel my feet shake uncontrollably. I wanted to know his answer, and he was taking a damn long time figuring it out.

"Well," he began. "What I like about girls is that they're so…feminine, you know? The way they move. It's nice watching them walk. At least, the ones who aren't rough. The way they laugh is so cute. Our laughs are booming and loud and seeping with testosterone, yeah? But theirs are like bells. Tinkling bells. And I wish they knew that they didn't have to try to impress the boys that they like—because a guy should like them for who they really are, not by the guise they put up around them. And it feels nice to hold them in your arms, and it's cute when they rest their head on your shoulder. They make every single thing at that moment insignificant, because you have the world on your shoulder." He paused for a while. "They also shouldn't be so insecure of themselves. They're beautiful. The little things that they think are ugly, like the freckle by their nose or the mole near their lips, I think it's really cute. But the kind of girls I like…" he trailed off.

"Go on!" Perry urged.

"Yeah, man." Fred encouraged. He dusted crumbs off his fingers and wiped them on his boxer shorts.

"I fancy the kind of girls who are real. They're not into the superficial kind of stuff, they're not too girly, they love being themselves and they rather not be anybody else. Their opinions aren't someone else's. She makes a fool of herself and she laughs about it. She doesn't pretend. But I'd want to be the guy in the relationship; I'd want to wear the jeans, the trousers. And hopefully, she'd let me. Of course, it'd be really cool if she were into music like I am. And she wouldn't be too conscious of what she wore, but looked decent all the same. She doesn't give two shits about what strangers think of her when she's just being herself. She's weird, unique. She's not like other girls." Sterling finished, twisting his hands together.

"The kind of girl you described, Sterling…" Perry started. "She kind of sounds like my sister."

My face instantly turned red. My feet probably did, too. God, I hoped they didn't see that.

"Yeah, now that I think about it." Fred sat up a little straighter. "Especially with music, and the way she dresses. She wears combat boots and gloves. The girl wears them more than bikers do."

Sterling laughed sheepishly. "Well, yeah, do sounds a bit like your sister, Perry. She's a cool girl."

I bit my lip.

"Yeah, she is." Perry nodded. He was a bit overprotective of me and made sure that no one around him insulted me. He was a good big brother—the only one I've really had, anyway. I love Fred, and Fred loves me, but he's not on the same level of brotherly as Perry is even though I spent most of my life with him.

"You know, I was bored once, so I went through Harper's Tumblr." Perry admitted. I curled my toes in annoyance, but I remembered that if they noticed a movement that a person who was supposedly asleep would not make, they would stop talking and make me say everything I heard. Blooming heck. "Didn't find much stuff I was surprised with, and I clicked some usernames I found in the content she 'reblogged'." I saw him make air quotes with his fingers. "And I found girls' Tumblrs. It's amazing, it's like I'm inside their heads! They are bloody insecure of themselves, and they wish to be like the models and girls they see in photos from other sites. They also talked about how they wish that this certain guy would come along and sweep them off their feet. The lot of them are so in love with the idea of being in love." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Maybe if they weren't so insecure with themselves, they'd be happier, yeah?"

Fred nodded enthusiastically. "Addie is so insecure, though she's the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on. I don't know why it's taken me years to see her the way I see her now, but maybe she's gotten so comfortable with me, I got to see the girl underneath the insecurities." He drank some more cola. "With other girls, it's the insecurities that are underneath. But with her, it's what I first see. But ever since I fell in love with her, it all faded away. I tell her that I love her everyday, and that she has nothing to worry about. I tell her that loving herself is not a bad thing. In fact, it's what everyone should do—how could you truly love others if you don't love yourself, right? And seeing her smile after I say that really makes my day. Bumping up self-esteem of others is one of the hardest things to do. And I'm glad that with every day that passes by, it gets a tiny bit higher. And she has every right to be overconfident; she has the best people anyone could ever ask for." He smiled to himself. Even though half the time Fred seemed like a man version of a tease or a heartbreaker to every girl he eye-flirted with, he was one of the sweetest guys that I'd come to know. Maybe sweeter than Perry, though I've never exactly seen him act like that to a girl, and definitely not a boy—I'd know if my brother was gay, though I'd be completely okay with it. And you know he really loves Addie if he kicks down that popular-heartbreaker-flirt façade for her and would literally do anything for her, and made sure that he made her feel better about herself before the day ended. The best people anyone could ever have—Fred, a tight-knit group of mates, and her family, really surrounded Addie even though things with her family were complicated at the moment.

"That's deep," Sterling remarked, seeming both pensive and overwhelmed by Fred's monologue. Heck, it overwhelmed me too. If only every boy were the same way to his insecure girl, the world would be bloody perfect. Not much divorces, annulments, and heartbreak warfare.

"That's amazing, Fred. And real sweet." Perry nodded, seemingly overwhelmed as well. "Brilliantly sweet."

"Hm." Fred intoned. "Hey, do you suppose Harper's asleep? Or has she been listening to us the entire time?"

I loosened all my muscles and immediately closed my eyes. I steadied my breathing, making sure I didn't breathe too hard, like I was truly asleep.

"I suppose." Perry shrugged. "But maybe…" he paused for a while. I dared not to peek a tiny bit, and I felt my eyelid begin to tremble. There was a period of silence, and I wondered what was going on.

"She was pretending to be asleep!" Perry yelled and stomped in front of me. I flinched, and played the 'what the fuck did you just do I was bloody sleeping for fuck's sake' card. "What the hell?" I muttered groggily. I squinted and slowly sat up.

"Oh, quit pretending, Harper!" Perry poked me playfully. "You've been listening the whole time. Don't deny it."

"Listening to what?" I asked. "The telly?"

"No, you silly bugger." Perry persisted. "You were listening, weren't you? Come on, we won't get mad!"

"Listening to what?" I asked again, pretending to be cross.

"Our conversation!" Perry said. "We were talking about girls."

"The last thing I heard you talk about was Lil and Kimi." I rubbed my eyes and pushed my hair bag. "Really."

"I saw you curl your toes, Harper," Sterling smirked. Why he was smirking, I could not figure out. "People who are supposedly asleep don't curl their toes. You're a bloody bad actress, you know."

"Not that bad!" I exclaimed.

"Ha!" Fred jumped off the couch triumphantly. "You were listening. You just admitted it. Smeghead!"

"Tit!" I countered.

"Tosser!"

"Turnip!"

"Insulting each other alphabetically, are we." Sterling observed. "I'm next!" he thought for a few seconds. "Twannock!"

"Twit!" I retorted.

"Guys, enough." Perry laughed. He held out his hands and I took them. He pulled me to my feet and walked all wonky towards Fred and Sterling. The moon was right over the skylight now, and it directly shone its light over the couches. "I admit, I listened to you guys." I confessed as I plopped on the couch. "It was interesting. You know, you guys should tell Addie and Dakota what you said earlier. It'll enlighten them."

"Really now," Fred scoffed. "It was guy talk, Harper. You're not a guy. Well, sort of."

I raised my brow at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged. "I don't think of you as a normal girl. You're like a… 'bro' to me. A 'bruv' is what chavs would call it. Is that the word?"

Sterling, ever the worldly, multicultural one, nodded. "Yeah."

"And that's a good thing?" I wasn't sure.

"You could say that. Like, it's okay for you to be there when we talk about guy stuff. So it's not so bad that you listened."

"She's my sister," Perry declared, surprised although with a hint of playfulness.

"Yeah?" Fred looked at him with challenging, icy blue eyes. "She's my sister too."

"Perry, relax." I punched his shoulder. "Fred's our 'bruv'."

I could totally see Sterling smirk from the corner of my eye.

"So, Perry," I began. "You never told us what you fancy in a girl. Or who you fancy, for that matter." I quickly clamped my mouth to cover my unladylike yawn.

Fred nodded. "Truth, man. You never really talk about yourself, you know? You're such a wallflower."

Perry shrugged. "I like observing. People are interesting, especially when they think no one's watching. You don't know what they're capable of."

"You sound like you've watched someone do a dirty deed," Sterling noted. "Have you? Come on, be honest with us."

Perry hesitated. "Well…"

"Out with it!" Fred urged.

"I did witness a few. I won't say who, what, when or how, though." Perry said. "In the first place, I'm not supposed to know. So why should I go around telling people when no one is supposed to know in the first place, yeah?"

"You do have a point," Sterling admitted. "Still, I'm awfully curious."

"Hey, Perry, you've never told us who you fancy. Or the kind of girls you prefer." Fred nudged him. "Or are you in the closet?"

"No, no, I'm not gay," Perry quickly dismissed. "I'm as straight as a ruler. And, I don't fancy anyone. Really."

Fred looked at him knowingly. "Lies," he declared.

I glanced at Fred inquisitively. Did he know something I was not aware of, or had he observed something none of us have?

Perry looked at him earnestly. "Seriously."

Fred shook his head. "Tell the truth, Perry. All of us have. It's nothing to be ashamed of, it's not something that you're supposed to hide, you know. Come on then, out with it!"

It was that moment where I felt slightly defeated. Fred knew something I had not—he might've even known something Perry himself was not aware of. Fred worked that way.

Sterling quietly observed the exchange, since he did not know Perry as long as Fred and I did. Yes, they were good mates, but he didn't know him like I did—like Fred did. I prodded his knee with mine. He looked at me questioningly with his electrifying eyes, as if to say, 'what is it?'.

I gestured towards Perry. 'Urge him,' I sent with my eyes. My eyes were nowhere near to electrifying as his were, but I willed the message to send as hard as I could.

Perry sighed. "I don't want anyone to know because it's just going to get bigger," he admitted.

"Not wanting to admit something already makes it a problem, Perry." I said gently. "So even if you didn't tell us, it's already something big enough to make you want to hide it. It's funny that way."

Fred nodded. "It's okay, Perry. We wouldn't judge you."

Perry was quiet for a while. "Dakota," he said. And for some reason, I was not shocked. It was clear that none of us were.

"Shock of my life, that was." I said, my voice reeking of simple irony. "It rocked my world."

"Shut it, Harper," he nudged me good-naturedly.

"Between us, Per," Fred rubbed his eye. He was getting sleepy. "I could see it; feel it. I don't think she can, or Addie can, what more of your sister who was unaware of the inner turmoil that took place in your observant tornado of a mind—but there's something in the way you act when you're around her, you know?"

"I don't want to tell her, I don't want her to know." Perry picked at a loose thread from his shirt. "It might ruin things between us."

Sterling nodded. "Though you guys are really close with each other, you never know what can break that down."

"Exactly." Perry agreed. "Can we not speak of this for a while? I want to sort my thoughts out for the coming days. Observing people helps me deal—it gives me ideas on how to cope with turbulent thoughts, or thoughts that you can't exactly deal with. People have different ways of treating things, so it's nice to have some examples."

"Mm, sure," I said, genuinely groggily this time. My eyelids started drooping, and I felt the bright, white, gentle moon on my face. My head landed on Sterling's shoulder, and he slowly eased it to a pillow on his lap. Fred adjusted my legs so that they were on his lap, and not bent and cramped. And the last thing I heard was a soft song from Sterling's lips.

"Slowly, we're dancing underneath the pale moonlight.

Slowly, we're talking underneath the pale moonlight.

She was my fancy underneath the pale moonlight.

Sweetly, she's singing a three-part harmony.

Softly, she's speaking something good to me.

She was my fancy underneath the pale moonlight."

My eyes slowly opened to the soft sunlight that came from the skylight. It must have been a few minutes, maybe ten or twenty past six, since the light wasn't harsh and burning itself into my cornea. In fact, the sky was a dusty blue. I turned my eyes to the TV, which was softly playing an old episode of Tom and Jerry. I saw Fred asleep on the other end of the couch, my feet still on his lap, and Perry uncomfortable splayed on the armchair. I shifted to look at Sterling, who had a bit of drool by the corner of his chin. I wiped it away with my thumb, cringing a little at the sliminess of it. I slowly set my feet on the floor and lifted myself off of Sterling and carefully made my way towards the stairs that led to my room.

I realized that I left my iMac on sleep, so I shook the mouse to wake the computer up. On the screen, a dozen IMs were awaiting my reply, accompanied by a few buzzes.

One was from my cousin Vaya Marleeuwen. She was from the side of the family that resided in the Netherlands and never anglicised their name. She was an aspiring model that had endless legs, a perma-tan due to her Brazilian heritage and contrasting light green eyes. Boy and girl alike all over the world lusted after her luscious blonde hair.

Oh, and she just turned fourteen. It really does wonders for Cree's and my confidence to get the ordinary genes.

Harper! she exclaimed. I signed a deal with VS to join them when I turn 18! Do you know how cool that is? I'll be in VS SHOWS!

Oh hey, that's wonderful, though isn't 18 a little too young to be strolling around in lingerie? I typed back. Since her message was sent more then eight hours ago, she was offline, so I left our conversation at that.

It was a school day, but my parents must have come home late last night since they didn't badger us to go down from the roof a lot earlier than Perry did and they would have sent Sterling home so it was by sheer luck that I woke up early, although two hours earlier than usual.

I washed my face, peeled my clothes off and threw on track shorts and a sweatshirt. I pulled on sneakers and tucked my hair into a high pony and headed out of the house to the almost-frigid air. It was always cold in Havensburke no matter what the season—the only moments of warmth you feel are when the sun is beaming on your face. The wind was usually quite unforgiving.

I started jogging towards the east of my house to go against the wind. The neighborhood was still in deep sleep and no one seemed to be up and about, except for a few joggers easy to shed inches off their waist. I only jogged because of the adrenaline rush and the coldness of pre-dawn, and the neighborhood was so serene in its sleep.

My first destination was the lake. I always liked to wait out early mornings there with the ducks gliding across the water and fish wriggling their way across the water. There was a large apple tree that was easy to climb and pick its supple fruits to munch on, so it was a source of breakfast and food for the journey back. Usually, no one was ever there because it was deemed to be spooky because it was layered with mist, which suited me just fine.

Though when I reached the outermost part of the lake, I saw a figure with her arms wrapped around her knees. I approached her with caution.

She seemed small and frail although her limbs still had baby fat. Her long blonde hair covered her face so I wasn't able to tell whether she was a local or if she was a runaway orphan.

My shoe crunched a dead leaf and the little girl looked up, startled. I then saw the coloured of her eyes: they were an emerald green.

A lot like my mother's.

She prepared to flee, but I spoke. "I won't hurt you," I assured her. She eyed me warily for a while, and then decided that I was harmless. She rested her chin on her arms and stared at the ripples the ducks made on the water.

We sat in silence for most of the time, observing our surroundings and each other's movements. I then noticed dirt in her hair and the hem of her light green dress was torn and ragged and filthy.

"Where did you come from?" I asked her. Her eyes were still fixated at the lake.

"I'm from everywhere," she answered. "No place is my home."

I paused for a while. "Where are your parents?

She shrugged. "They're with the stars now. Or around, in nature."

My brows knotted slightly at the depth and mystery of this child's words. "Don't you have a guardian?"

It was the first time she looked at me, her huge green eyes observing mine. "His name is Gabriel."

She truly was quite odd. I didn't know what to make of her.

"Where is he?" I asked. She looked at me with her huge eyes as if she tried to swallow my being into it, and it was then that I noticed her golden hair tumbled down her shoulders.

Just like my mother's.

"He has lots of people to help. He can't watch over just me," she said as she traced shapes on her pale, worn foot. "I wait for him here sometimes. If he doesn't come, I go to other places."

Her tone dripped with both childlike innocence and mystery. She was dressed in what once was a very pretty dress but seemed to be a bunch of torn rags sewn together in its current state. She was very pensive, and she had this look in her eyes that could either be faraway or insane.

"Would you like to stay in my house in the meantime?" I blurted out. There was no way I'd let a child live outdoors while waiting for Gabriel. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't responsible enough to leave her under the care of someone else until he came back.

The girl shook her head sagely, a small smile on her oddly chap-free lips. "That's nice of you to offer. No one else has offered to take care of me but the trees."

"It's dangerous for you out here. Someone might find you and…" I trailed off, and hundreds of TV reports and newspaper articles flooded my head—

6 year-old girl goes missing, found butchered at the riverside

12 year-old female Tidstone resident kidnapped and abused to death by former convict Oscar Pelborough

9 year-old child dies in signal number 5 storm, she resided in outdoor parks which caused her death

—and shivered. I can't add another name to the list of thousands of missing children.

"If I were truly in danger," she smiled at me. "Wouldn't I be dead by now?"

Chills ran up and down my spine and goosebumps covered my arms. She was way too insightful for a child.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Eight." She answered.

"What's your name?"

She picked a daisy next to her and gently picked its petals. I tried not to wince. Daisies were my favorite flower. "Elle," she said. "My name is Elle."

I plopped myself on the ground beside her. "That's a pretty name. I'm Harper."

"That's an odd name for a girl. It sounds like it should be a boy's." Elle remarked.

I laughed, not offended at all. Even for me, my own name sounded so masculine. But to make it more feminine, my mother named me Harper Elizabeth. I used to think that they were expecting twin boys but were too surprised when I popped out sans male genitalia, but my dad waved that off like it was some annoying fly. "Of course not!" He had exclaimed. "Your mother was so keen on naming you Harper, and I suggested Elizabeth. Did you know, though, she was so dazed that when she wrote your names, she wrote yours as Arthur Edward? She's such an oddball, really."

"I think it's a proper name for a boy," I agreed.

She didn't answer. She piled all the petals in one small palm, and let the wind brush them away.

I closed my eyes for a bit and let the wind cool my warm skin. It was usually very cold in pre-dawn, warming up through dawn then to the morning. I wondered what time it was—surely, I'd have killed at least thirty minutes—and opened my eyes to find that I was alone. There was no trace of Elle beside me, and the daisy petals were taken away by the wind. I wondered how she left without making much noise.

I stood up and walked to the lake and observed the glistening scales of the fish. A few of them wiggled up to the surface and watched me curiously, but the moment I stretched out my hand, they scurried away. I shrugged and headed out of the lake and to Lo's Diner. They were open 24 hours a day and served delicious, energy-packing food—a fancy way of saying their food clogged arteries.

I checked my phone for the time—it was already nearing eight. How did I manage to spend so much time by the lake without noticing?

I slowed down my jog to a walk and appreciated the scenery before me. Shutters started unfolding and curtains were pushed open to embrace the soft sunlight that was peering through the sky. Fathers in their late 40s and in rugged bathrobes ambled out of their doorway to retrieve the newspaper that may or may not have been thrown at their doormat.

I remembered that I would have to get ready for school soon, so I sprinted towards the diner. The exterior of the diner had a '50s style neon sign that had the diner's name, a ramp and stairs leading to the entrance, Plexiglas walls and a small parking lot with a few vintage or beat-up cars that belonged to the employees.

The bell jingled as I pushed open the door. "Top o' the mornin' to ya, Harpy," Joshua Hodges—his mates liked to call him Hodge—greeted cheerfully. He was a college dropout from Plunnand with a goofy grin and dimpled cheeks. "Where are the other scallywags?"

I eased myself on one of the stools and chuckled at his Scot-pirate imitation. "Asleep. I woke up early, and I wanted to waste time."

He grinned. "So you were runnin' all over the place with nothin' in your tum?"

I nodded and returned his grin. I would normally not grin so much because only so many things amuse me, but his enthusiasm was infectious. "Yeah."

"So you'll have the usual blueberry waffles and whipped cream smothered all over it with chocolate chips?" he asked, taking a pen from the hat that came with the diner uniform and a pad that hung from his belt. "And a milkshake?"

"Scratch the milkshake for now. I need water." I said. Josh stuck his head in the kitchen and yelled my order while I stuffed my hands in my pockets. It was then I realized that I didn't bring money—I never used a wallet—and all that my hands touched were cloth. I cursed under my breath.

"Never mind, I forgot to bring some ackers." I sighed.

Josh emerged from the kitchen and did that twisty thing with his mouth—Perry said I always did it, too—he twisted the right corner of his mouth which deepened his dimples into a sort of half smile and hummed in thought. "You could always start a tab, yenno."

I frowned a bit. "I don't want start having debts."

He waved it away. "You've been a regular for months now, don't worry about it. Knowing you, you'd never forget to pay a debt." He set a placemat and arranged the utensils on the table napkin above it.

"You're sure that it's alright for me to start a tab?" I asked, still unconvinced. "Do other people do that here?"

Josh shrugged, and in that moment, it oddly struck me how similar he and Mitch Hewer look. Josh didn't know a shred of tap-dancing or acting, though. "Of course people do it here. Not a lot, but there are people."

I smiled. "Alright then." I looked at my phone and realized that when I finished eating and got home, I'd only have enough time to change and head to school, which meant that if Perry and the others weren't awake yet, they would go to school with a growling stomach. "Could I order Fred, Perry and Sterling's usual orders too? I just realized that they won't be able to have breakfast this morning."

"Yeah, sure." He poured me a glass of water while shaking his hips, dancing to Caviar's Tangerine Speedo that was playing on the diner's speakers. "Yenno…If I didn't work here, I'd never have breakfast here, really."

"Why is that?" I fiddled with the utensils, scribbling the air with it. "'Cause it clogs your arteries and sends you back to dust?"

"Yeah. But I shouldn't say that to customers. If Lo hears me saying that, I'm going to have to find a new job."

"Hear you say what?" Lo boomed, coming out of the kitchen door. She was in her early forties, had curly black hair and that accent that African-Americans usually have. She was plump and lovely and had a commanding presence. "Boy, are you respecting this beautiful young lady?" She firmly placed her hands on her hips. I flushed at her comment.

"Of course, Lo!" Josh playfully shielded his face from Lo's slaps.

"So what was it you were goin' around sayin' to customers that you shouldn't be sayin' to?" she asked.

"Nothing, Lo, I swear it." He said.

"Well, Joshua, you better be telling the truth." Lo wagged a finger at him, then turned to me. "Well, hello there, Miss Harper!" She said with booming enthusiasm, and wiggled her arms over the counter for a hug. "C'mere now, give big Lo some lovin'."

"Hi, Lo." I chuckled and returned her hug. "How's the family?"

"Aw, my little rascals are all over my hair," she sighed. Josh took this opportunity to sneak into the kitchen and prepare my orders. "But that's alright. Shaneela finally learned the alphabet! It's about time, don'tcha think?"

Shaneela was her six year-old daughter, and any achievement from her, even the slightest, brought out the most explosive joy from her mother.

I smiled. "Definitely."

"How's your family, Miss Harper?" Lo asked.

I was silent for a while. "They're alright," I said. I left out the part where I don't get to see my parents any more often than before, and just said all the good things. Sometimes, I wonder if my parents love their work more. It's well wicked to have the headquarters built for us, but if you look deeper, it's because my dad wanted us to be hidden from his clients. Not because he wasn't proud of us, he'd often assure us, but just in case we knock over a vase or make too much noise. I get confused sometimes.

Josh emerged with my blueberry waffles on one hand and a paper bag on another. "For you, mademoiselle," he said with a French accent as he carefully placed the plate in front of me. "And for your mates." He set a paper bag on the counter next to my plate, and the smell of my friends' orders wafted to my nose. I began slicing cubes of waffles quickly, since I didn't have that much time left.

"Well, ain't that refreshin' to hear." If Lo were behind me, she'd have thumped me on the back. "I'll leave you to enjoy this delicious meal. I'll see you, Miss Harper." Lo grinned and retreated to the kitchen.

"What's with the hurry, Harry?" Josh said playfully. He, along with certain people, has a variety of nicknames for me, some more juvenile than others.

"Don't want another tardy, Hodgey." I mimicked him between mouthfuls of waffles.

Josh looked at the clock above the kitchen door. "The diner isn't too far from your house, innit?"

I shook my head, chewing quickly and shoving more cubes the moment I swallowed.

"So it is far?" Josh asked.

I lifted my hand and made a quick seesaw motion with it, the universal sign of "kind of".

"I'll be back." Josh disappeared inside the red kitchen door, leaving me with the ticking diner clock and slightly aching jaws.

Silence settled over the diner, save for Louis Armstrong's You Rascal You playing through the speakers. Half of the waffle was on its way to being digested—eating this fast was really unhealthy, but necessary at the moment. I spent way too much time by the lake.

Josh emerged from the kitchen. "Eat the plate, even," he said. "I can take you home." He held up a hand before I even managed to protest. "Lo knows, and it's okay. It's early in the morning anyway, our customers at this time is usually just you and Fred."

I mumbled through chewed waffle. "Thank you."

Josh winked and clicked his tongue. "Sorted. My pleasure."

As soon as I was finished with both my glass of water and the waffle, Josh grabbed the keys to his beat-up pickup and I dashed outside with the paper bag, following him. He headed straight to a rusty, dusty blue one and unlocked the door. He jumped in and unlocked mine, and I climbed in. He gunned the engine and off we went, at an amazingly slow pace. Maybe I should have walked.

"I swear, my baby can go tons faster than this," he assured me. After a few seconds, he spoke again. "…are you sure you can't go to school like that?"

"I don't mind, but I'd love a shower first."

I gave him directions—turn here, turn there, and we finally pulled up in front of my house. I faintly heard yelling and slamming of doors and clinking of utensils against plates.

"Cheers." I slipped out of his car and grinned gratefully at him.

"It's no problem. Be seein' ye, Harpy!" He saluted and drove off at the snail-like pace we were moving on.

I ran inside the house and put the paper bag on the kitchen table. I set the containers marked Fred, Sterling and Perry outside the bag and sprinted upstairs to take a shower. I grabbed clothes first, though—a black nylon jacket, a vintage floral dress and underwear. I connected my iPod with the speakers and set it on shuffle—Ferraby Lionheart's Harry & Bess started filling both my room and the bathroom—then peeled off my clothes, tossed them in the hamper then jumped in the shower. The warm water lessened the numbness in my face and eased the goosebumps along my arms back into hiding.

I quickly dried up after rinsing off shampoo and liquid soap and threw my clothes on. I eased my fingers into my black fingerless gloves, loosely wrapped a scarf around my neck and fixed a beret atop my head while brushing my teeth. It's amazing how you multitask when you're in a hurry.

I pulled socks onto my feet and jammed them in gray Converse hi-tops and checked the headquarters for any signs of life. Thankfully, there were none, so I ran down the stairs and to the kitchen, panting a little. I don't remember slowing my pace into a walk in the past ten or twenty minutes.

My brothers—both biological and adoptive—and Sterling were seated at the kitchen table, and it was obvious who woke up the earliest and who took their time in the shower. Noel seemed like he woke up the earliest, as he was finishing up the last morsel of food on his plate. Perry's hair was dripping wet, creating dark splotches on his unbuttoned button-up. Sterling, who borrowed clothes from Fred but still wore his blazer from the previous night, had his hair sticking out in all directions and a lot of it was still wet. Fred, on the other hand, had dry hair that was fixed. He smiled serenely at me. "Good morning, Harper. I see you disappeared again."

"And brought you food," I raised my brow at him. "You're welcome."

"Thanks, Harp," Sterling said cheerfully.

"Sure." I noticed that there were two coffee cups by the sink. "Noel, did Mum and Dad leave for work?"

He nodded. "They said they're coming home on Thursday, too. Dad has a meeting in France and Mum has some reporting to do in Germany." He shared with me a look that was known all too well whenever we only saw minutes of our parents in the week.

"Does Cree know?" I asked him. He shook his head. "Figures," I muttered. It was so like them to just disappear like that, and only notify us of their absence when we ask.

"Well, better hurry up," Perry said. "We only have fifteen minutes to go before the bell rings.

"Go check up on Dakota and see if she's ready to leave, along with her sisters." Fred told Perry. "We'll clean up here then leave."

Perry disappeared upstairs for a minute (to brush his teeth, I assumed) and went to Dakota's house. While Fred, Sterling and Noel brushed their teeth and fixed their things, I cleaned up the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. I grabbed my bag and Ibanez Artwood and met the others outside the house by my parents' Range Rover. Most of the time, Noel and Dakota's sisters took the bus. But there are times when everyone happens to wake up late, and we all cram into the biggest car we have. Fred swung the keys around his finger—it was his turn to drive today, and mine tomorrow—while waiting for us. Naturally we wouldn't make him drive were it against his will, but he insisted that he needed to get over his fear of driving or his anxiety in vehicles.

"Get in. We're waiting for the Morrisseys and Perry." He said, and I climbed in the backseat of the car, where Sterling and Noel were seated.

Fred climbed in the car and Perry sat in the passenger seat, panting a bit. Dakota slid in the first row of seats and her sisters Chantilly and Vienna followed. "Addie's already in school," Dakota said as Fred started up the car. "She said she didn't want to be late, like what we already are."

"We're not late," Fred insisted as we lurched forward and zoomed towards school. "Be optimistic."

Dakota rolled her eyes and sighed. "Sorry, Chants, Viens." She said.

"It's alright, really." Chantilly smiled pleasantly. Of the two, Chantilly was the more outgoing, open and cheerful one. Dakota was more mature, cautious, and down-to-earth. "I've never been in a Range Rover before."

"I'm sorry your experience will be a short one, then," Fred said charmingly. "Feel free to ride with us whenever you feel like, though."

"Okay." Chantilly grinned. Beside her, Vienna mumbled a string of complaints. "Hey, don't be like that, V. They're giving us a ride to school. Either you miss your test today or you're tardy just this once. 'Kay?"

Vienna nodded.

Dakota lived in a family full of girls. Her father walked out on them when she was two, and her older sisters Geneva and Giverny had to help feed the family. Six years ago, though, her mother married a nice man named Julian Morrissey and for the first time in a long time, they had a father figure in her house. They also changed their last name from von Vouchenz to Morrissey. The Morrissey sisters were all close, except Vienna since she had a sour attitude most of the time. She never met her biological father since he left when she was just developing in her mother's womb, and she was just plain sour to almost everyone she knew. Geneva, according to Dakota, was a little whimsical and playful. Giverny, the prettiest, with gray eyes and golden hair, was flighty and was a little too pretty for her own good. Geneva was in college and Giverny was in her last year of high school.

"Fred," Chantilly spoke. "Are you speeding?"

"No!" Fred answered, flabbergasted, as if speeding was morally inappropriate. "Never. I always follow road rules. Am I going too fast for you?"

Perry sighed. There's no way we'd get to school on time since Fred wouldn't dare go past the speed limit a tiny bit.

"Oh, alright. I'm just checking." She said.

Fred pulled up in front of Havensburke Middle School. "Have a good day at school, Vienna!"

"Thanks," she managed as she slid out of the car and slammed the door closed. I winced. So did Chantilly and Dakota.

"I'm so sorry, guys," Dakota said apologetically as Chantilly reopened the door and folded one seat so Noel, Sterling and I could crawl out. "I don't know what's making her so cross and everything."

"It's not your fault, Dakota." Perry assured from the front seat. "No worries."

"You too, Chantilly." Sterling said in his easygoing manner. Chantilly smiled at him gratefully and blushed.

As soon as Noel was out, I righted the folded seat and slid in with Sterling. "Thanks, guys. See you later!" Noel said good-naturedly as he gently closed the door. Fred drove towards Afflatus-Lumen High at an exasperatingly slow, rule-following pace. We only had three more minutes until the final bell.

"Fred…" Chantilly said uneasily. She was a straight A student and was aiming for a perfect attendance award. She has never been late in her entire academic life.

"We're almost late, Chant. Surely the government can forgive us this one time that we are near speed limit." Fred answered optimistically.

I watched the trees zoom by as Sterling drummed his fingers on his thigh, counting down the precious time we had left.

"Who woke you guys up so late?" Dakota asked.

"Noel," Sterling replied. "He was wondering why the only sounds of a shower he heard was his, then looked for us. He was also wondering where Harper was 'til he realized she must have been walking outside or something."

Fred sighed from the driver's seat. "And she didn't bother waking us up."

"I woke up at six, guys. I don't think you'd want me to wake you up that early." I remarked. Grunts of agreement followed.

Fred parked the car in the parking lot and all of us scrambled outside. He locked the car and we all sprinted towards the lockers just as the final bell rang. The hall monitor, Terry Greens, scribbled down our names on his pad and each gave us a tardy slip.

"Make sure your level secretary Cassie Beauraham gets this during your free period," he said. "She'd know if you didn't because I have your names here."

We nodded. "Get to class now." He ordered, and we hurried up filling our bags with books for the morning.

"Shit," Dakota cursed under her breath as she fumbled for her schedule in her locker, which was near mine. "I completely forgot what my classes are for today."

I grabbed my Sociology, World History III and English III books from my locker. "I think your first period is Health. I'll catch you at free period," I said as I headed to my first class.

"Yeah, sure. See you." Dakota said uneasily as she dropped her hands to the sides and staring at the contents of her locker and then her slip with a sigh.

It's the first tardy she ever received.