The Love Club

Seventeen

I wake to the sound of an alarm nearby and roll over slowly to turn it off. The time reads 6 a.m. and I sigh before throwing off the covers and turning on a lamp.

In a flurry of movement, I throw things into my bag, brush my teeth, and comb through my hair. I contemplate make-up and clothing, but decide against it when I glance at the clock again. It’s a two and a half hour drive to Manchester, and I’m grateful to have time to sleep. I’m not grateful for the time to reflect on what has conspired in the last twelve hours, however. 

Methodically, I zip up my toiletries bag and toss it in with the rest of my things. Ushering Gatsby into her carrier, I ignore her disapproving glare as I secure it shut and take it up in my arms, my duffle thrown over my shoulder. With one last sweep of the room, I nod to myself and head out the door. 

I maneuver around other members of the crew, weaving my way toward the elevator. Gatsby hisses at the close contact of so many strangers, so I find myself in a corner in the lift to try to placate her. When we arrive in the lobby, I feel grateful when someone relieves me of my bag. With nothing else to do, I adjust Gatsby’s carrier in my hand and prepare to stand around until someone tells me where I’m supposed to go.

“Mina!” 

My head turns at the sound of my name. It’s distinctly feminine and familiar, but I’m unable to place my finger on who it is until I peek out the front doors to see a group of three standing on the sidewalk, suitcases in hand. Gemma wears a half-smile reminiscent of her brother’s, and I suck in a deep breath before beginning in their direction.

“Harry’s left, so we’re on our way out as well,” Anne explains after I awkwardly greet the family of a boy whose taste still lingers in my mouth, even after a vigorous brushing of my teeth. I wonder vaguely if I’ll ever forget it.

“You’re not going to Manchester?” I ask, setting Gatsby’s carrier lightly on the ground to relieve the weight. 

“I’m heading back to the city to get back to work,” Gemma explians. “Mum and Robin are heading out on holiday.”

I nod along dumbly to this information before pausing. 

“Wait, Harry left?”

I’m unsure on how to feel about the look Anne gives Robin. Gemma only widens her smile.

“Yeah, the band has a few interviews to do when they get there, so they left early. They should be there by now.”

I feel a mix of relief and disappointment. Despite the heavy drowsiness I still feel, I know I’ll be unable to fall asleep again when I find myself in whatever car is taking me up to Manchester. I’ll be too busy overanalyzing and trying to figure out where I go from here. 

A cab pulls up beside the curb, and Robin gets busy taking luggage from Anne and Gemma, loading it into the car. Anne reaches forward to engulf me in a hug, and I let her, even though I’ve only known her for two days. She whispers a “see you soon” in my ear, and I try not to flush scarlett at the idea that I’ll be spending any amount of time in the future with Harry’s family. As Anne and Robin slide into the cab, Gemma lingers. I shift my weight uncomfortably, certain she’s about to say something that won’t aid the overthinking I’m about to do in this two hour car ride.

“Harry would kill me if he knew what I’m about to say to you,” she admits, and I bite my lip, avoiding eye contact. She sucks in a breath before continuing. “I think it still needs to be said, though. I don’t know what’s going on between you guys, but I do know my brother. He’s hopeful, he gives away his trust too easily, and I don’t like watching him hurt. You seem like a genuine person, Mina, and it’s easy to see why you two get on so well. I just...”