Surprise

Rain is lightly splashing the cement, causing a cold fog to settle on the streets. My cheeks and nose are stinging from the temperature. The streets are less busy than before, but there are still a lot of people bustling around. There is never a moment cars are not on the road, illuminating the sidewalk with their headlights. Harrys guides me to our destination, holding onto my jacket tightly so I don't get lost. 

We walk quietly, I can't find a topic to bring up. The air around him feels weird. Did he want to be alone? I stormed in with no explanation. Was that weird?  

After a few minutes of walking, we stop by a small diner that's run by an elderly man. He opens the door, the bell ringing as we trudged into the restaurant. We try and shake as much water off our shoes as possible before walking over to a booth to sit. We drop into the seats, and take our jackets off. Harry runs his fingers through his hair, letting his curls fall to the side giving him a 90s look. Water drops onto his cheek from the movement, and he brushes it away with the back of his hand.  

The old man yells to us behind the counter.  “Hey harry, how's it going, I haven't seen you in a while.” 

“Oh hey, sorry I've been gone,” he smiles back.  

“Oh no, I'm glad you're doing well. You even brought a friend,” he motioned his hand to me, raising his eyebrows. 

“Oh, I'm Peter.” I call out.  

“Ohh, this is Peter huh?" his laugh filled the small diner. “Well I'm glad to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you.”  

I glanced at Harry, his face was red with embarrassment. I smiled. It's pretty cute. I wonder what Harry told him. 

The man disappeared into the back of the diner. A few people were scattered in the booths, but the 50s music drowned out their talking.  

“I'm gonna get a cheeseburger,” Harry said softly, his eyes glazing over the menu. 

“I'll get the same,” I didn't bother looking over the menu, I usually just get whatever Harry gets. He's got good taste. Harry stood up and walked to the counter where the older man was. I didn't realize he came here. I know less about him than I realized. After laughing with the man, he makes his way back to our booth while holding our drinks. He places two fountain drinks on the table, then slides in, his curls bouncing as he sits.  

“He said it would be a 20-minute wait,” he averts his eyes, and focuses on opening his straw. 

“I'll give you five minutes to rant, and I won't comment unless you want,” I smile, hoping he'll accept. 

“Fine, only if I can ask you a question afterwords,” he smirks. 

“Deal,” I don't have to answer truthfully. It will be okay. I want to see what's going on with his dad. 

“My dad is constantly up my ass about taking my medication. It's always the first thing he asks when he sees me,” he sighs. “If I lay in bed too long he'll freak out and ask if I'm in an episode." 

I nod, I understand his dad's concern, I get scared too, but he's going about it the wrong way. 

“My dad seems to be the one with bipolar disorder, anyway. He goes from screaming fits one minute, to sobbing and begging for my forgiveness."  My stomach hurts remembering the scene I witnessed earlier. Norman’s emotions flipped like a switch. “Compared to him, I look like the one with perfect mental health. He's the insane one.”  

I went to open my mouth, but he waved his hand at me. 

“My five minutes isn't up,” he rolled his eyes jokingly. “I mean our relationship is beyond fucked. I can't show any emotion without him flipping out and making sure I'm on my meds.” My heart tightens. It's a hard situation. 

Harry's mom had bipolar depression and unfortunately passed it to her son. During a dark period, she drove into oncoming traffic. She didn't make it to the hospital, and she died in the ambulance. 

“I'm not my mom," he said, frustration seeping out of his voice, “Besides, I don't even have my driver's license."  He chuckled slightly.

“That's not funny.” I replied, trying to keep my voice lighthearted. I don't want him to feel defensive.  

“Our only conversations are if I need to be institutionalized, or what a crappy heir I’ll be to the company."  He took a sip of soda and dropped the nonchalant act he was putting on.  

“I think my dad might be on drugs or something,” he continued, his voice growing softer. “He doesn't seem like himself half the time, it's scary."  Harry had a very serious tone to him. Our table fell silent. My eyes welled up with tears, but I refused to let them fall.

My heart stings for Harry. He's already been through so much. It's not fair. He's a good person. He doesn't deserve for life to turn out this way. I need to watch his dad and figure out what is going on. 

I can't believe I didn't realize what was going on with him. I was trying to push him away when he was at such a low point too. Why did I have to be such a dick about it? I wanted to distance myself from Harry's for his safety, but I can't let him be alone during this. I'll just have to patrol him more. I have to protect him from all of this. I'll find a way to make sure he's safe. He has to be safe.  

“My five minutes is probably up,” he said, keeping his voice light. “Time for my question."  I nodded, my head still spinning. 

“When did you get that outfit?" he had an amused look. 

“What?" I peered down at my outfit. Oh yeah. It's the one I bought like an hour ago.  

“Harry,” yelled the man from the counter “your food is ready."  Harry quickly and gracefully jumped from his seat and made his way to the man. After a few moments of laughter, he returned, setting our plates down.  

It smells amazing. I didn't realize how starving I was. My mouth instantly waters, and my stomach hurts, begging me to take a bite. I grab the burger and take a huge chomp. My eyes could have rolled back in my head, this is just delicious. I peer up at Harry. His father's attempt at making him the perfect heir to the company has paid off. His posture is perfect, and he's taking small composed bites. He looks so professional. I fix my posture a little once I realize how much I was slouching.  

“Well,” he interrupted. “When did you get it?" 

“Oh yeah,” I mumble in between bites, “May got it for me recently.” 

“That's funny,” he laughs. “Spider-Man has the same one.”  

What?  “Huh? That's cool.” I say while shoving a fry in my face, praying that he'll change the topic. 

“Do you follow that Spider-Man update page on Twitter?"  His attitude is weird,l It's like he finds this hilarious but won't let himself laugh. 

“Oh, no. I didn't realize that was a thing,” I laughed. What? I try not to look myself up. I've never been good at handling criticism.  

“Yeah, look,” he grabbed his phone and shoved it in my face. It was a Snapchat video of Spider-Man swinging into the shop, buying the outfit, and swinging away. After the video was over, he scrolled down the Twitter thread to show a photo of what Spider-Man bought. A gray hoodie with the words New York embroidered on it, black sweatpants, and a Milky Way bar. Fuck. I'm such a fucking idiot. It's honestly funny how dumb I am. What the hell is wrong with me? 

God this diner is so loud, I can barely hear myself think. I can feel sweat dripping down my neck. What the hell am I supposed to do? Do I come clean to him? Is that going to put him in more danger?  

“Crazy, right?" he laughs and puts his phone in his pocket. He picks up the rest of his buyer and takes a bite, a pickle sliding out and hitting the plate, along with a glob of ketchup. My stomach hurts now. What is he trying to do? Did he figure out my secret? Is he trying to taunt me with it? I feel really dizzy.  

“Are you done?" he asks innocently. I just nod. I kinda feel like I'm going to hurl. There are too many emotions and thoughts swirling in my brain. I can barely focus, and when I do focus, I anxiously spiral.  

Harry grabs the plate from me and brings it to the counter. I assume he paid while he was there, I couldn't look anyway but down. I don't even know what to do. Should I make an excuse and leave? But he seems like he's not doing well. Should I confess? Should I plead the fifth and deny everything? Is Harry doing okay mentally? 

Harry grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the booth, and out of my head.  

“Let's go,” he said softly. He grabbed the coat and placed it gently around my shoulders. I slipped my arms in, and we walked out of the diner together.