Trace

Chapter 63

Harry places a hand on my knee. "You know that," he says, "I told you before."

I place a finger in the middle of my chin and run through my thoughts.

"I don't remember you recently telling me that Anne is sick."

"Not recently," he corrects me, "do you remember when you first came to my flat?"

I nod and smile, it was after he had asked me to be his girlfriend.

"Well you were wondering why I said I was lonely, remember?"

I close my eyes, vaguely remembering the conversation. It feels like so long ago, when it was only about four months ago.

"I told you that my mum became an alcoholic when I was younger, and my dad..."

Harry's voice trails off. The way he said the last few words gets my mind reeling again. But of course, the dad who he had called a "dickhead", or something of that sort, so long ago. Was it really that long ago?

Harry and I do not discuss his relationship he has with his parents. He seems somewhat ashamed when he talks about his mother, and his father- well, I get the impression that he is better off without him.

Once again, I am reminded of Harry's sleep-talking, that eerie conversation he was having with someone in his mind. Maybe this is finally the time for me to bring it up...

"Harry?" I cautiously place my hand on top of his that is still resting on my knee.

"Yes, beautiful?"

He should've burned.

We pull up to a red light. I take a deep breath and exhale it silently through my nose.

"Can I ask you something?"

I set the fire. I wanted my father dead.

"Yeah, babe. What's up?"

I hesitate.

"Um, can you promise to not get upset at me if I ask you this?"

He sighs and squeezes my knee gently. The light turns green and we begin moving forward.

"If it's reasonable for me to get upset, then I can't make any promises."

I gulp. Is this reasonable? I sure don't want Harry breaking out in a furious frenzy, ruining our day. I am merely basing this conversation on my witnessing his sleep talking last month.

"Okay, deal...I suppose."

He chuckles deeply and squeezes my knee again.

"So, uh, last month I woke up one morning and you were...sleep talking."

I steal a glance to the side to look at his face. His eyes are focused on the road, his lips are in a straight line.

"Go on," he nods almost solemnly.

My mind is whirling. Should I go on? This is already a touchy subject, and I don't want to accuse him of anything. But my instinct is telling me there is more to this dream, or nightmare. If I only mention the main part, however, I will then be able to tell if it was just a dream or something that relates to Harry's life.

"You, you said something about you setting a fire..."

My heart drops. The look on Harry's face says it all.

"El, I really don't want to talk about this right now."

I sigh and lean my head against the cold window. Of course.