The Only Exception | W2S

NINETEEN.

Haha

I wrote this chapter (esp. the beginning to Champagne Coast by Blood Orange so that is my recommendation for this chapter!!)

The knock came milliseconds before my door was abruptly pushed open, George storming inside.

"Good afternoon to you too," I say dryly, not moving from my position underneath my duvet, the same place I'd been for practically the last three days.

"You haven't left your room in days, haven't replied to any of our messages and you've ghosted social media," he states bluntly, crossing his arms and staring me down.

The look he was giving me was one I'd recognised.

We'd been through this before.

"I'm tired," I lie, pulling the duvet further up, as if hiding from him would make everything better.

"Maybe, but that's not why you're hiding away. What's happened?" He asks, and I recognised the tone of his voice. It was the same every time he felt concerned about something, or someone.

"Nothing's happened," I repeat, too stubborn to let him in. Too afraid of what would happen if I did.

"Holly," he repeats himself. "It's me. You can tell me stuff. I want you to tell me stuff," he says again, this time a little less blunt, and his voice was softer.

"I can't, George," I say again, although this time it was barely louder than a whisper.

"Is it —" he starts, but I cut him off before he can finish.

"No," I tell him firmly. "It's not Matthew."

Well — not explicitly, anyway.

"Your family?" He asks again, and I shake my head.

"George —"

"No, Holly! You're my best mate, and it's obvious something's happened, and I've been racking my brain to figure out what it is so I can help but — I have no idea. I'm concerned. We — we're all concerned," he tells me, although he sounds more emotional now. "Did something happen on social media? Is it your eating? Is it —"

"Harry," I break out, in a hushed voice, feeling anxious the second his name left my mouth.

George looked at me weirdly. "What?" He asked, looking confused. "I didn't hear you, what did —"

"Harry," I repeated. "It's Harry."

He looked even more confused now. "What's Harry done? You two were getting on really well —"

"He hasn't done anything," I say stiffly, as if I'm unsure on how to proceed. I don't, really.

"Then what —" he starts, but stops as I sit up in my bed, looking around the room to distract myself before speaking.

"He, uh — I —" I stutter, not able to find the words. "Sorry," I say quietly, as George just waits.

"It's okay," he says gently. "I'm not gonna get frustrated at you, or leave. Just — take your time."

I nod, closing my eyes briefly. "I don't think my feelings for Harry are purely friendly anymore," I say, and it sounds crazy to say out loud. Even crazier in front of someone else.

Any other person would've just rolled their eyes at me, or told me they thought it was cute. Not George. His eyebrows furrowed, and he looked at me with a look of sadness, but also understanding. He knew. He got it.

"Holly —" he starts to say, but I shake my head.

"It's my fault. I hung out with him too much, and I messaged him too much and it was fun making a new friend but I —"