No one has ever seen Parker and Zacchias fight.

'Nothing can come in between those two' they say.

So when Harley hears them shouting by the lockers she knew it had something to do with her.

She knew she should never have dropped that note in Parker's locker. She was feeling a little too brave, a little too reckless. She should've known by now that she was neither brave nor reckless. She was just Harley. Trouble seems to follow her everywhere she goes now.

Her Photography lesson had just ended and she decided to be the first to initiate some kind of communication with Parker. To try and be normal for once. Directly talking to him seemed like a step too far off the cliff and she definitely didn't want to fall and lose it all. So she decided that an old-fashioned note would be the best option.

She later found out that this wasn't one of her wisest decisions.

At the scene of the disarray, Janet, in all her pantsuit glory, was squeezing onto Zacchias' shoulder as if she would fly through the ceiling if she let go.

Everyone knew she has a thing for Zacchias except Zacchias himself until recently(and apparently Parker too). She's been itching for Zacchias and Jasmin Jelani to go on another one of their frequent 'breaks' so she can get her sticky Head Girl paws all over him. And now was her chance. Harley admired her boldness.

She couldn't quite hear what Parker says last before he storms off but judging by the look on Zacchias' and Janet's faces it seems to be directed at them.

Harley's heart almost stops.

He steps towards her, barely brushing her shoulder as he walks straight past.

He walked right past Harley like she didn't even exist. He didn't even register her presence.

She's back to being just another blank wall to him. Again.

And that crushes her.

She stands there staring at the space where Parker had just left. There's a small crowd gathering around them yet Janet was still clinging to Zacchias' toned arms. She clearly didn't care about the whispers or the looks that surrounded them. Zacchias looks slightly bemused if not a little annoyed.

Whereas, Janet frowns with disappointment. Eventually, he casually shrugs her arm off, turns on his heel and stalks off in the opposite direction of Parker. He still shines his signature dazzling smile at everyone in his path.

He deserves an Oscar for this performance.
You would've never noticed he was shitting bricks inside. He doesn't want Parker to be mad at him and he also doesn't want to be mad at Parker.

She looks in the direction Parker disappeared off to, wondering where he could've gone and whether or not he would appreciate her company.
Is it too soon?
She'd been itching to talk to him all day.

If she was Parker where would she go to let off steam?

It was so simple. She even thuds herself on her forehead for not realising it sooner. The art room.

The art room was always open during the day except for when there were lessons. The art prodigies love using it because Miss McCarthy, the young, beautiful and quirky art teacher, plays 'inspirational music' - which was really just rainforest sounds most of the time or indie music - and decorates the room in ornaments that she proclaims 'stimulates the students to produce elite pieces of art'.

It's the perfect place for Parker and she just knows he's going to be there.

Her breath escapes her lungs and catches in her throat. She sees him.

The soft guitar sounds seem to curl around him and protect him from doing anything else but paint. He's all hunched over his easel in the furthest corner of the room next to the windows. Paint garnishes his hands like a live Van Gogh painting. His eyes are concentrating fervently on what he's doing. His fingers scratching over the paper while his mouth hangs slightly open, eyebrows furrowed in close attention.

She's never seen him like this before. She had never seen him actually doing his craft. She could see why the school values him so much. That's why no matter how many lates he got, how many times he didn't show up or the number of fights he got into with Brett Velasquez- they never kick him out. He was practically carrying the art department on his back. That's how good he was. That's how good he is.

She was too scared to go over and risk disturbing this personal bubble that he created for himself so she hovers by the door, silently watching him while simultaneously trying to regain her breath. That is until she hears Miss McCarthy noisily clear her throat.

"Erm, can I help you, sweetheart?" Her hazel eyes stare down inquisitively at Harley under her bright pink fedora. She glances at Parker briefly trying to send him some supernatural spidey senses his way to get her out of this situation but he still hasn't looked up from his work.

"I-I w-w-w-was-" She begins blubbering as her face gets hot. Her mouth feels broken like she's suddenly forgotten how to speak English. But as if by luck, Parker finally looks up and catches her eye.

"Harley?" He chuckles, looking slightly amused at the sight of her red face. He seems to have calmed down a lot from when she last saw him in the hallway. He rubs a stained hand through his hair, leaving bright green streaks of acrylic paint in it. That's going to be a pain to wash out. "She's with me, miss." Miss McCarthy eyes her suspiciously as Harley walks over to Parker's stool and easel.

"Are you mad at me?" She blurts out quickly, not being able to control herself.
Does he look mad? She searches his face looking for a sign.

He pauses and raises his eyebrows slightly, his stormy grey eyes washing over her body. "Why would I be mad?"

She shrugs and starts to play with the straps of her camera satchel around her neck. "I heard you and Zachy arguing."

"You heard that?" He puts his face into his hands for a moment then shakes his head. "It was nothing, don't worry about it."

"But you guys never argue." She mumbles, fiddling with the undone hem of her grey argyle sweater.

"We do, believe me." He goes quiet for a moment as his fingers glide across the smooth hot-press paper with his brush. It was tantalising to watch. "Can we maybe just not talk about it right now?" He gives her a weak smile. All the anger had melted away as soon as his brush had touched the easel, now he was just regretful. He wishes he hadn't said those things to Zacchias.

She nods and sits beside him.

"You do hate me, don't lie." She pouts, a sight that Parker couldn't help but find a little cute. She couldn't help but question him again, breaking the silence. Her manic need for reassurance got the better of her again.

He stops painting again and ruffles his hair again leaving behind yellow dots of paint this time. "I don't think I could ever hate you, Harley-Blair." And then he gives her a look that just seems to warm her insides and turns her into a wet lovesick mess. "Even if you took a great big knife and plunged it straight through my heart." He pantomimes an overly dramatic stabbing gesture through his chest and collapses to the ground, laughing to himself.

She giggles and he drags her down with him. She falls on top of his chest and his paint-covered hand accidentally slaps the back of her sweater leaving a great big stain. She was laughing too hard to care though.

"Oi! You got paint on me, Parker," she squeals, he rolls his eyes playfully and puts a dot on her nose. Both of them giggling in a heap on the ground. Neither Harley nor Parker wanted this moment to stop but a few coughs from Miss McCarthy and evil eyes from a couple of the other art students bring them back to reality.

Once they finished hauling themselves up, Parker sighs and says, "You know... It's just Zachy being a hypocritical bastard, but it's really no biggie," He accidentally touches her hand, fireworks erupt through Harley-Blair's chest. "I truly am happy you're here." He goes back to painting but this time he has a small sheepish smile planted on his face.

"Can I watch?" She politely asks. The stitching on the hem of her sweater was far from saving anymore.

"Sure, knock yourself out." He chuckles. He continues painting as she watches him carefully. "But um... I don't know if anyone's told you yet but you've got some paint on your nose."

She wrinkles up her nose, resembling a little angry leprechaun and jabs her finger at his arm. "Has anyone ever told you that you're an idiot?"

"No, you'd be the first actually." He snorts, a triumphant smile on his face for his witty comeback. He loved teasing her.

Is this what it feels like to like somebody? She could feel his warmth and smell his dove and sweet cinnamon tea scent. She's never liked anyone before, never in a romantic way let alone any other way. She wanted to hug him and tell him just how perfect he is but that would be too weird. His eyelashes flutter ever so slightly as he blinks and her heart starts racing again.

He sticks his tongue out slightly, clearly focusing, then he pauses and catches her eye. He grins up at her with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Take my picture." He nods his head towards her camera then cocks his head to the side, wiggling his hairy eyebrows.

"I don't normally take pictures of people, I'm more into astrophotography and stuff like that."

Parker had no clue what that was but he nods his head anyway, "Then I'll be good practice."

He places his paintbrush in its holder and begins to smoulder his face like a model. "This alright?" He grunts.

Harley shakes her head laughing and angles her camera towards him. "It's perfect."

When the light from the window hits his face, she quickly starts instructing him on how to pose. "Okay, pick up your paintbrush again and place it in front of your face between your fingertips and stare at it."

He obeys.

The light creates a silhouette and the shadow of the paintbrush hides one half of his face. His grey eyes stare down at the yellow paint dripping off the edge of the brush. He is beautiful. So beautiful. He probably has no idea. Harley wanted to reach out and stroke the disappearing freckles on his nose. She wants to feel his soft pink lips against hers. She wants to roll her hands through his paint-streaked hair and hold him close. Never to escape.

Where would she find another like him?
She wouldn't.

She captures the moment and after a few shots, he proceeds to cross his eyes and stick out his tongue like a child.

It is almost as if Parker was an 8-year-old boy trapped in a teenagers body. But she didn't mind his silliness, it made him human.

"Please respect that this is an art room and not a photography classroom, okay?" Miss McCarthy warns, giving Harley a nasty look. She never understood why the photography department and the art department hated each other so much when they had plenty of things in common.

"Sorry, miss! It won't happen again, miss!" He waves his hands apologetically at her, stifling a laugh.

"How about you grab my purple sketchbook over there and attempt to draw something?" He says. "You can use these paints and pencils, I'm sure Miss McCarthy wouldn't mind."

Harley wasn't too sure about the last sentence. She can practically feel Miss McCarthy glancing at her every few seconds, probably sensing how out of place she was. Harley was not an art prodigy.

"No, I shouldn't." She sighs and flicks her hair, gaining a little more confidence to flirt. Wow, this felt so easy. "I wouldn't want to upstage you."

He laughs loudly, his pink gums on show, earning a few more looks from Miss McCarthy.

"Oh, of course we wouldn't that, now would we?" He feels full to the brim with joyous energy, still holding that huge smile on his face.

She giggles and grabs the huge lavender coloured sketchbook. She's never giggled this much before in her life.

"You know, I kinda like hanging out with you," She says, after a while of aimless painting.

"Kinda?" He chuckles lightly, raising his brows. "I bet that's just girl code for 'you're more boring than watching an ant climb up a tree'."

"Oh sorry, I meant to say not at all." She rolls her eyes at him sarcastically.

"Ha, and to think I thought you were a darling." He says while Harley blushes tomato red; she's not used to compliments from cute boys.

"So..." She says, elongating each letter. She'd been meaning to ask this question since she first saw them together. "How did you and Zacchias become friends?" She admires the way her brush artfully dodges the paper.

"You never call him Zachy, do you?" He says avoiding her question.

"I don't know him like that." She shrugs. "I know him as Zacchias because that's what it says on his student ID card."

He shrugs back, eyes darting across his paper.

"Are you going to answer or is it top secret information?"

He exhales before he starts speaking.

"It was a long time ago, back when we were both annoying kids," He nods, smiling to himself slightly. He always found the memory fond to think of.

"He had the longest hair I'd ever seen on a boy and literally little to no teeth," He laughs, stroking the back of his neck.

She could see how happy thinking about it made him which made her wonder why he hesitated so much to tell her. "I used to call him gummy bear since all you could see when he smiled was his gums."

Thank God for braces and puberty, those things practically saved Zachy's life.

She continues to paint broad yellow strokes on the paper. It's beginning to actually look like something. Maybe she wasn't all too bad at this, she thinks to herself.

His voice gets lower and a familiar look of discomfort crosses his face. "...I-I used to get picked on quite a lot." He winces as he remembers all the teasing he would get.

"You don't have to tell me anymore, Parker." Harley softly says, resting her hand gently on his. His nostrils flare and Harley could see how flustered he was getting. She didn't want to push him too far. She knew how that felt.
He gets even quieter and shakes his head, his scruffy hair moving slightly with the motion.

"Nah, it's alright...it happened a long time ago, I'm over it." He looks at her quizzically for a second as if he was deciding whether or not he made the right decision but continues with the story regardless.  "He always stuck up for me...every single time without a doubt."

He tries to disguise his emotional scars with his smile but it wavers slightly. She rubs circles on his hand with her thumbs, her dad used to do this to her whenever she got upset and it calmed her right down. God, she misses her dad.

"It's fine," he says.

"I don't want to overstep here but maybe you guys should just make up," She bites her lip wondering if she shouldn't have put her two cents in but he wouldn't be talking to her about it if he didn't want to hear her thoughts. "You obviously care about each other, and your friendship sounds too precious to just throw it away."

"You're right." He admits. As if he was summoned by their words, Zacchias himself walks through the door looking as bashful as ever. "Talk of the devil."

"Am I really that easy to find?" Parker mutters to himself. He rests his brushes down and faces his best friend while Zacchias nervously clears his throat.

"Hey," Zacchias says. His wet hair is tied back in a little bun and his skin was clear and dewy as if he'd just come from the school pool.

"Hey," Parker says back. There's a sticky silence in the air.

"I'm gonna go," Harley awkwardly begins to pack up her things. She feels as if she's imposing on a seemingly private moment.

"No," Parker gently touches her hand. "Stay." The touch is so electric she can still feel the tingle of his fingers lingering on her skin.

Something about the way he says it makes her sit back down.

"Hello Harley," Zacchias smiles warmly, holding his hand out for her to shake. She takes it politely. His handshake is strong and his hands are calloused like a typical athlete. "It's nice to meet you again."

She stays mute but nods her head.

There was another awkward silence which Parker decides to fill. "What do you want, Zachy?" He doesn't say it rudely but in the sense that he genuinely wants to know what Zacchias wants.

Zacchias glances at Harley before he starts to talk. "Look, I'm sorry man," He rubs his hands together, nervously. "I shouldn't have interfered, it's your life, you can do what you want."

Parker nods and Zacchias continues. "I guess after the whole thing with Crescent, I felt the need to protect you."

Harley vaguely remembers a rumour going around months ago about a girl called Crescent but she can't quite remember what it entailed. What did Parker have to do with her?

Parker nods again. " 'Preciate it man but I'm not a little kid anymore. I can handle myself. I'm sorry for all the shitty things I said too. That sucked." They bear-hug it out and Parker accidentally gets red paint on the back of Zacchias' shirt.

"For fucks sake, Parker!" Zacchias curses.

They burst out laughing like it's the most hilarious joke ever and suddenly Zacchias stops and scratches his head as if he's forgetting something. Seconds later, he pulls out a packet of green sour skittles from the front pocket of his tracksuit bottoms and throws them at Parker.
"Almost forgot."

Parker fails to catch it, clearly showing his lack of athletic ability, but he has a triumphant smile on his face.

He notices Harley's confused expression and enlightens her. "It's from when we were younger, it's just a truce thing." He winks at Zachy who winks back.

"Anyway, I gotta go, I have class but I'll see you guys later," He turns and half-jogs half-strolls out of the classroom, giving the art teacher a charming smile which inevitably makes her blush. "Also, it really was nice to meet you, Harley, make sure you be good to my boy, alright?" He throws up the peace sign and disappears down the hallway again.

She throws a look at Parker and hopes he didn't notice how awkward and quiet she became when Zacchias was around. She searches his eyes for judgement and none she sees. Instead, he shrugs, puts the packet of Skittles inside of his pocket and sits back down on his painters' stool.

"Shall we?" He smiles up at her and at that moment Harley truly felt like she shall. "The last one to finish painting is a rotten egg!"

And they paint away the day.