Artwork [h.s]

forty-nine

From Harry: Are you free?

I smiled as I stared at my phone, that was on my thigh, hidden under the table. I glanced up fast, making sure nobody was looking at me, before typing in a reply.

To Harry: Is anybody free on Christmas Day?

I sent the text and glanced up again, looking at my relatives as they talked to each other. I bit my lower lip, looking down again, starting to fear that I'd been a little too harsh, especially considering that he was forced to spend the holiday with Niall's family, that seemed to dislike him greatly at the moment.

To Harry: I'll be free after lunch

I sent the second message as well before picking up the fork and quietly finishing the food I had on my dish, barely listening to the conversations that were being made around the table.

"Sierra?"

I looked to the side as soon as my grandmother spoke. "Yeah?"

She cleaned her mouth with the red napkin before speaking. "So do you have a boyfriend?" She asked, a smug look on her face as she saw my facial expression change, knowing that I hadn't expected that question.

I stared down at the white embellished table cloth, not believing that she'd asked such a thing again. I didn't know if she always asked it because she didn't know what to ask me, or because she genuinely wanted to know, but it still wouldn't have made it any less embarrassing. I hated that question. It was awkward, and surely not something I was willing to discuss with my grandma, given that I wasn't even willing to discuss it with my mother. I looked up, seeing that she was waiting expectantly for my reply, and sighed. "I don't" I simply replied in the end, which wasn't a total lie. Harry had never asked me to be his girlfriend, after all.

"What about Harry?" My mum suddenly said, sneaking into the conversation before I could even notice it. I didn't even know she was listening to us.

I pursed my lips, staring at the plate in front of me, starting to hate where that conversation was going a little more. I didn't even know my mother knew Harry's name, I wondered when I'd accidentally let it slip.

"Oh, Harry?" My grandmother asked. "Seems a nice name. Is he a nice boy?" She continued, glancing at me, determined to get her answers no matter what.

"We're just friends" I replied, hoping that it would've ended there. But it would've been to good to be true.

She poured some more wine in her glass, giving me a side glance while she slowly took a sip. "I'm seventy-two, not stupid" she replied after putting the glass down. "Your grandfather and I were just friends too you know. Until we weren't."

My mother nodded at her words. "Besides, I've seen you kiss once, Sierra."

I widened my eyes, not believing that she'd throw me under the bus like that. "Uh..." I said, not really knowing how to save myself from that conversation, starting to hope that the lunch would've ended quickly. I didn't feel that bad about the idea of leaving my family to go see Harry in the afternoon anymore. I glanced up at my dad, hoping that he would intervene and say something that could've saved me, but he continued his conversation with my uncle, apparently not having heard the whole exchange.

"I'd just like to have a great-grandchild before dying, that's all" my grandmother said when she realised I wouldn't have replied, and I turned my head to look at her so quickly that I almost felt it snap.

A sudden blush rushed to my cheeks as soon as I took in what she'd said, and I shook my head quickly, not even wanting to think about having children with Harry. I was eighteen and I hadn't even known him for half a year, for fuck's sake. That definitely seemed a bit too much in that moment.