the journal - h.s.

100

[amber’s pov]

…and hope to see you on Friday evening, as it would be deeply unwisely for your future career to decline such request and opportunity.

…Yours truly,

… Richard Styles, Senator of Illinois.

I didn’t sleep that night between Thursday and Friday. His words drifted in endless circles within my thoughts, soaking them with paralyzing intoxication that made me toss and turn till my mobile phone told me it was finally 5 in the morning. Silently I got out of bed while Perrie and Jenny’s heavy breathing indicated they were still in deep sleep. It took minutes to get dressed and I barely noticed putting on my boots as the unanswered questions terrorized my mind; how had he gotten hold of my phone number? How did he know I hadn’t opened the letter? What was Peter’s role in this?

I accidentally brought myself out of my paralyzed state of shock as I dropped the glass into the sink. ”Shit,” I mumbled to myself as my eyes quickly flickered to Jenny and Perrie. The red head was yawing wildly with flames of red sticking out from everywhere. Rubbing her eyes she took in her surroundings and finally noticed me; standing fully dressed and with my bag in one hand ready to departure.

”Please tell me you were going to buy us breakfast and not fucking sneak off to see your boyfriend in a strictly no-boyfriend-weekend?” She whispered intensely pulling herself up before shuttering slightly from the cold. Her oversized grey t-shirt with the print from some zombie movie almost reached her knees. I hummed trying to seem relaxed but it was impossible with the letter and flight ticket weighing the amount of a broken promise hidden in my pocket.

”My - my mum’s not feeling well. She was -  hospitalized during the night, I need to go see her. I’m so sorry Jen, I was going to leave you this note -” I indicated to the piece of paper laying perfectly balanced on top of a package of müsli where they would have noticed my hectic scribbled apology for sure.

As I watched the realization and immediate worry wash into Jenny’s eyes for a woman she hadn’t even met, the feeling of guilt? forced me to escape her gaze. I hitched up in the little bag and gave her a faint smile, ”it’s not too bad, I just need to be there for her. She’s even telling me not to go but sometimes you… you just have to.” The white lie was coating in the truth.

Jenny nodded understanding, ”tell her hi from me - I hope she feels better soon.”

Once again my heart was drowned with her caring tone of voice for a person she had never even met.

Somehow I suddenly wished I could just tell her everything - let her in on all the injustice and suffocating ways of the situation. Share every worry and have her call Harry’s dad the biggest prick on the planet in her own extreme Jenny-way with more colorful swear words than I knew existed. But the thing was; it wasn’t my story to tell.

I made a face over the awful cafe latte to-go I had ordered to keep me awake while the airport was busy with people and their huge suitcases. Sighing heavily I mumbled something about how ’they should learn to steam the damn milk properly’ while impatiently waiting for the flight’s gate to turn up on the information board. Drizzling rain fell down the huge windows overviewing the many white planes which had just arrived or were ready to take off, I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around where I was heading. Who I was going to confront. The mere thought seemed terrifying.

I tapped the side of the plastic cup while my eyes wandered aimlessly over the stream of travelers, while the monotone voice announced the last call for flight QZ758. I knew it was a terrible idea - not telling him. Not telling Harry. But the sound in his voice; the exhaustion, the way deep shadows would sneak into his eyes and his shoulders would drop in defeat by the mentioning of his father haunted me. I knew it wasn’t a healthy decision, not a rational nor clever one, not a choice I would make if my heart wasn't in the middle of the situation. But I was still going to give it a hopeless, stupid, and naive try because people with as good a soul as Harry’s were worth doing it for when there was even the slightest chance it might work out.