Notorious

Traumatized

I ignore Harry for a week.

I shut off my phone after the many apology texts and voicemails he left. I pretend I’m not home when he knocks on my door twice. I don’t utter a single word to him during rehearsals even when he tries to pull me aside to chat and I avoid any and all eye contact with him.

But, I can feel him watching me. His emerald gaze burning a hole into my skin when he’s singing into the mic or discussing gigs with Niall. He tracks my every move when I set up my guitar and eavesdrops on my conversations with Zayn.

I just simply pretend he doesn’t exist because he might as well not.

At least I’m wanted.

That simple sentence was certainly effective. It was like all my worst nightmares put into four words and laid bare at my feet. Being alone and unwanted has always been my biggest fear that just so happened to be realized over and over.

First with my mother and her blatant preference for Liam and then again with Louis and his blatant preference for a certain blonde that he was fucking behind my back for the last three months of our relationship.

Being unwanted is a concept I have been dealing with since my father abandoned our family and one that I have been told over and over again is untrue.

It’s funny how a million no’s can be overpowered by one yes.

But, I refuse to be sad. Sad Aspen was forced to pack a bag and leave months ago and was replaced by Angry Aspen. One that may not be better in the long run, but is a lot more tolerable. So, now I’m just really pissed off.

Which, apparently, is pretty obvious.

“So, what’s got your panties in a bunch recently?” Avery’s tone is light, but I can tell she is genuinely concerned about what’s wrong.

A heavy sigh escapes my lips and I switch my phone over to my other hand while I make myself a pot of coffee. This may or may not be my fifth cup for today, but I’m finding it a better alternative than the whiskey I have stashed in my top cabinet that keeps calling my name.

“What else?”

“So, it is Harry then.”

I roll my eyes at her suggestive tone, but soon realize she can’t actually see me through the phone. I hadn’t told Avery all that went down in the last two weeks with Harry and me, but I know she has gathered enough evidence to come up with her own conclusion. My summary however is a lot less scandalous.

Harry tries to dry hump me in a bathroom even though he’s with a date. I tell him he acts like Louis –he gets angry. We then act like bitchy children towards each other for a full week until Harry throws the fact that Louis broke up with me in my face. Oh right, and he told me that nobody wants me.

“Of course it’s Harry. It’s always Harry,” I decide to not drudge up the details –it would be complicated enough for a novel, “I’ve never daydreamed about slitting someone’s throat more.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Hmm… No, all my knives are dirty at the moment, so I wouldn’t worry about it just yet.”

“That’s oddly comforting,” We both laugh as I continue to fix my cup of coffee before grabbing a bowl of strawberries and plopping down on the tweed couch Yoda is sleeping on, “Seriously, what is going on with you two?”

“Let’s just say that we’ve both pissed each other off to an unhealthy degree. I swear we cannot be around each other for more than an hour without finding some way to get under each other’s skin. He is arrogant, selfish, inconsiderate, and a womanizer. Literally everything I hate in a person.”