"Hey erm Dave, I'm going to go to the loo," I stutter backing away from the entrance of the classroom and from Dave. He raises his eyebrows looking very confused, but then shrugs his shoulders.
"Ok what do I tell the teacher?" he asks knowing that I'm not going to the toilet. "Or I could come with you?" he offers,
"Sure lets go," I grab hold of his sleeve and we both walk back down the corridor and out onto the field where we were sat ten minutes ago. It's empty just like I expect, obviously because everyone is in class. I don't even know why I am here but all I know is that I'm not ready to face Harry yet and not for a while.
"Are you going to tell me why we are bunking off?" Dave asks raising his eyebrow at me and adjusts the sleeves of his grey hoodie. I shrug my shoulders and scrunch up my face pulling a funny look at him. “Is that a no?" he adds poking his tongue out at me.
"Yup," I say popping the pea, taking out my phone from my pocket as it vibrates.
"Is it true you're the girl that dated Harry Styles?" Dave blurts out; I nod my head and look down at my phone not wanting to talk about it. "Do you mind if I ask why you broke up?"
"He told the press a load of lies about me and I couldn't forgive him for it so he ended it." I murmur as I relive the pain I have had to fight since the day I found out he done it.
"Hey babe," Harry coos pulling me into his arms and kissing my neck, as I walk into the house, his breathe tickling my skin.
"Hey, how was the studio?" I ask kissing his lips and slipping my hands into Harry's jean back pocket.
"Busy, it was bad without you though,” he whispers into my ear, my knees buckle with this affect he has on me. My cheeks instantly heat up and burn red with the compliment Harry just paid me, smirking to himself he kisses both my blushed cheeks then walks into the kitchen.
Walking over to the sofa in the living room of Harry's mum's house, I plonk myself down. Taking out my phone and clicking the Internet, the news pops up on the screen something about Harry and I. Curious about what this is I click on it and start to read the article, one line. A sentence. Nine letters. That's all it has taken for my heart to pound and my eyes to water. Harry sits down next to me wrapping his arm around my waist.
We have loads and loads of articles written about us and they are all lies, but why do I believe this one, that Harry actually told the press this? Why? Because Harry and Mark himself are the only people that knew about Mark and I, it wasn't really a relationship more like a friends with benefits. But why would Mark tell the papers that? We are still friends I know him and I know he wouldn't do a thing like that. Harry, I have known him since we were eight and after all the things he has done to his exes I wouldn't be surprised he done this.
"H-arry," I stutter my breathing beginning to become heavy and my head to pound, tears pricking my eyes but in not letting then fall.
"What Liberty?" he murmurs against my neck as he kisses it,
"Did you actually tell the press this?" I choke, dreading his reply I hand him my phone. He scrunches his eyebrows together and reads the article.
"I’m sorry Liberty, I’m so sorry," he cries tears running down his cheek.
"You actually told them that?!" I shout removing myself from Harry's arms and standing from the sofa, he nods slowly. I can feel my heart shatter and fall into pieces in my chest; a lump appears in my throat making it hard for me to breathe.