Chapter Seven ; Remember The Day

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Clarissa's P.O.V.

And so I was back out on the streets of New York again. I felt nothing. I felt nothing and I hated it, but I didn't know that I hated it because I felt nothing.

Robbie and Jonah were furious with me, I knew they were. I didn't know how I could come home and face them. What would they do? I knew they would yell. I hoped they would yell. Then, just maybe then I could feel something other than this numb hole growing into my heart like a freaking parasite. What if they didn't let me in at all? What if I went back to gambling, went into a depression, and got killed because of it.

I shook my head. That was the extreme. They were my brothers, they were my family. They would have to do something with me. 

All of a sudden Harry and Louis popped back into my head. I ducked into a small alley so I wouldn't cause a scene and started to pound my fists on the bricks. I raked my hands down the wall until I was sitting on the concrete. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, making me even more angry. I've cried more this week than I have this entire year. Blood started to ooze from the cuts on my hands, making me want to scream. I hated myself. Simple as that.

I would never be able to see them again. If I did, I'd tear their band apart. Everything they loved, everything they worked so hard for would be gone. Because of me. So I would have to make myself distant. I'd have to make myself forget yesterday, forget today, and most importantly forget One Direction.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I finally found the strength to stand up. I staggered a little bit but caught myself before I fell, peeking out into the city. There weren't that many people around, so I felt safe to go out without anybody calling the cops on me, cuts on my hands and walking like a drunk and everything. I walked into a cafe when my hands stopped bleeding and I thought it was okay for me to speak.

Almost immediately, I regretted this decision. 

There, in the cafe, with an oversized hat and dark clothing on, was Harry. Harry Styles.

Our eyes only met for second before I burst out of the cafe, the door slammed shut behind me. I ran faster when I heard the door open, knowing that it was him.

No, no, no, I thought, my mind flipping through memories rapidly. Do not start this again.

My feet pounded on the pavement, trying desperately to get away from him as fast as they could carry me. I glanced behind my shoulder only to find that he was right on my tail. I couldn't talk to him. I couldn't. It would rip us apart. The only thing in my mind at that moment was run.

And so I did. Until I couldn't take it anymore.

I slowed down and turned a corner in between two buildings and leaned up against the wall of one of them, my chest heaving. Harry soon found me and did the same.

My mind was a complete and utter mess. I couldn't think. I couldn't speak. The only thing I wanted to do was get away. 

"Claire-"

I backed up from him, shaking my head. I knew that if I looked at him I wouldn't be able to hate anymore, which was horrible. I wanted to hate. No, I need to hate. To protect them.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Claire."

I never liked being called Claire. It was either Clarissa or nothing.

"My name is not Claire."

I could practically hear his teeth clench.

"Then what is it?"

I turned away from him. "Get away from me."

I jerked around when I felt him touch my shoulder. "You said it yourself! You told me to leave! Well, here I am, leaving!"

A lump formed in my throat, but I knew that I wouldn't cry. I had cried enough.

Harry's eyes flickered to the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Why did you save me?" My voice was raspy, lowered to a whisper. "Why did you save me last night?"

He came closer to me and gripped my shoulders, his green eyes glistening. "Because.. I think.. I love you."

He leaned in to kiss me, but I pushed him away, blinking in disbelief. "What? No, no, you can't do that. You can't love me. I only just met you."

Harry groaned and let me go, rubbing his forehead. "Wow. You don't even remember."

"Remember what?"

"That trip you took to London. You were thirteen."

My eyebrows furrowed. "I remember that." Where was he going with this?

"When you were in Bromley, you broke apart that fight. The fight between the two huge sixteen year-olds and the little curly kid."

"What are you-"

"I was that curly kid."

I closed my eyes, trying to comprehend all of this. I remember that fight. I was coming out of the restaurant with Max, and I saw these two thugs picking on a fifteen-year-old kid with a black eye, by the looks of it. He was about to get his face pounded when I told the two to get lost or I would call the cops. After a bunch of smack-talking they finally backed off. I remember that kid staring at me before Max pulled me away. He didn't even say thanks, causing me to be in a bad mood for the rest of that day.

"You- you remember me? From all the way back then?"

"It was only four years ago."

"Ohhhh, God."

That was the year I met Jared. Right after that trip, when school started, when I went to that party..

I could hear Harry's breathing getting ragged. "But.. you don't feel the same way, do you? You still love him, don't you?"

I knew he was talking about Jared. I hated this. I hated being this weak without him. I hated being.. felt bad for without him. I hated being pitied. I hated this whole thing.

I dragged out the picture of us out of my back pocket, where I always keep it. I dragged it out and ripped it in half, letting the pieces fall to the concrete.

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