"So…" Harry starts awkwardly.
"I want to apologise," I tell Harry. "Tasmin isn't mad at you, you know. She's mad at me."
He turns to me. "How do you know?"
"I was careless today. I shouldn't have told her that…" I stop. I wasn't planning on saying anything to Harry, but just like Tasmin, I hate secrets, and if I'm going to learn to trust Harry for Tasmin's sake, I can't hide. "I told Tasmin to be careful."
Harry hesitates before replying, "Careful of what?"
Here it comes… "You."
He doesn't seem to be taken aback by that at all. Instead, he nods like he accepts that perfectly. Like it's normal to tell your best friend to be careful of a potential candidate for a friend… or, more.
I ask the question in my mind. "You're not mad?"
He shrugs. "How could I be mad?" he says. "You're looking out for her, how can I go against that?"
I think. "So, you're not mad at me, but… Are you mad at –"
"At Tasmin?" he interrupts. "No. The problem is, she doesn't know about my mum, and I've been scared to tell her the story, because one thing will lead to another, and I…" he pauses, trying to phrase his sentences. "Don't want to hurt her."
I nod at him.
"That's… the last thing I want to do." Rubbing his neck nervously.
A strong gust of wind blows, whipping my hair up. It's refreshing, but the night's cold, and the sound of crashing waves deep below is chilling in my spine. I didn't think to bring a jacket with me. Then again, I didn't expect to go outside. Onto the open deck. But here we are.
"I get it," I say. I risk asking a personal question. Is it wrong to want to know more? "Do you miss her?"
His eyes grow wide. I expect him to break down, and prepare to say sorry then change the topic, but he replies with something slightly unexpected. "I don't."
Now it's my turn for my eyes to widen. He doesn't miss his own mother? If he doesn't miss her, why is he so determined to stay secretive? I don't say anything, and Harry takes that opportunity to ask me a question.
"I love my mum, you know, but… somehow, I don't feel the need to miss her." Maybe he's just trying to be strong. I turn towards him, thinking that maybe his eyes will tell me a different story, but all I can see is the dark reflection of the horizon in them. "Does she mention her at all?"
"Huh?" I blurt. "Who?"
"Tasmin," he says, like it's obvious. "Does Tasmin talk about my mum?"
I don't know whether to laugh or gawk at this boy. "What are you talking about?" I say, confused. "Tasmin doesn't even know about the situation you're in. Why would she speak about your mum?"
He shrugs, sliding his head onto his shoulder to look at me. I notice that the reflection of the night is still there, but hidden somewhere in there, there's a desperate cry for help. I don't understand it. I don't understand him, and why he would ask that.
"Just asking."
Harry's been through a lot. He's still bothered. He said what he said because he's trying to be brave even though he's upset. I shouldn't have brought her up. He's trying to have a good time, make friends with us, and I'm going ahead and mentioning his deceased mother like it's the weather.
His eyes are scaring me. The way he's looking at me, like I'm all-knowing, like I have all the answers, and I have to tell him things, even if they're not the truth, it makes me want to rush back to the safety of my cabin, give Tasmin a bear hug. But I can't leave him here.
"Come on," I say to Harry, sliding away from the railing, hot and slightly wet where my hands were just tightly gripping. "We should head back. It's late."
He doesn't say anything, but when I start walking, I hear him following me silently. I feel his eyes on the back of my neck, and I feel slightly disturbed. Harry's really changed. And not for the better.
Outside the cabin, I consider asking Harry if he wants to speak with Tasmin, but figure I'd rather not disturb Tasmin, and figure a good night's sleep will clear his head, and he'll know what to say tomorrow. He'll know if what he's saying actually makes sense.
"Night, Harry," I tell him, giving him a weary smile.
He nods at me. "Good talk," is all he mutters before disappearing into the boys' cabin.
As I scan the card to head inside, I pray that both Ben and Charlie have decided to make their own cabin home again, and inside are just my two best friends, and luck is on my side.
"Hey," I say, slightly out of breath from the walk back and the conversation with Harry.
Tasmin doesn't look up when I come in, and instead pulls her book up to her face to ignore me. Emily perks up, even though television is practically her life. "You're back!"
"I am." I turn the volume of the television down a little, cueing Emily's pouty face, but I don't mind it. "We need to have a little girls' night tonight, don't you think?" I announce, making sure the message isn't just an option, but an instruction directed at Tasmin.
I drop to the floor and lean on my hands. Emily joins me, grinning. I heave a dramatic sigh. "Boys are a handful, aren't they, Emily, Tasmin?"
"Hah!" Emily exclaims. "I'll say."
We both turn to the silent Tasmin. "Don't you think so, Taz?"
Slowly but surely, her book lowers slightly, and she glares at me, but my smile glares back. She rolls her eyes so hard, and covers her book to groan, but I swear I see the corner of a smile. Then, after a minute, she's sliding down next to us.
"Welcome," Emily teases, giggling at her. Then we hug.
We all stare stupidly at each other, under the twinkling artificial lights, and I get a nice feeling within. Not the same feeling as when I'm around Charlie. Love, unrestrained and free and sincere. My love for these two girls.