Note To Self (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter Four.

The presence of Aubry's journal felt heavy in Harry's backpack. Not that the book itself weighed much, it was the feeling of guilt that came along with it that caused it to weigh like a ton of bricks. He'd never stolen anything before in his life, and the way his conscience ate away at him for what he'd done only reminded him of exactly why that was. He knew he needed to return it to her as soon as he possibly could, not only to rid himself of an item that didn't belong to him, but also the unbearable amount of guilt he carried on his shoulders. That was only made more difficult when he received a text message from his mother telling him to pick up her dry cleaning after school.

The dry cleaners was just down the street from the school, but the problem was he always took the bus home from school and picking up his mother's dry cleaning made him miss it. He had to walk home and that made him late to run into Aubry on her walk. That is, if she even took it. He had no idea whether she would or not after discovering her journal was missing. It upset him knowing he would be the reason.

Just as he suspected, she was nowhere to be seen when he walked down the road he normally saw her walking on. He was about a half hour later than he usually was and he had no way to contact her. He figured he was stuck with it for the night and headed home.

As he stepped though the door, he kicked his shoes off like always and hung the dry cleaning on the coat rack for his mother to find later before he headed up the stairs to his bedroom to change out of his uniform. As he descended back down the stairs, he was surprised to see his mother waiting for him at the end. She was home earlier than usual.

She held a stack of mail in her hands and he eyed her suspiciously when she held one out for him to take. She didn't provide an explanation, but it wasn't needed anyway. It was written on the envelope. It was a letter from NYU, one of the schools he'd applied for by chance he didn't get into Harvard.

It had already been opened by her, which made him a little upset because he liked to open his own mail. It wasn't much of a big deal, but she still knew whether he'd got in or not before he did. He easily slid the letter out from inside and unfolded it to read what was written.

He had been accepted.

He grinned proudly up at her, but she never returned it. Her expression remained neutral, as if she didn't care. She didn't, and she made that known to him. "It's not that big of a deal, you've already been accepted into Harvard."

He frowned. It may not have been the school he planned to attend, but he still felt proud of himself for a moment because he'd been accepted into more than just one ivy league school. It's not an easy task to be accepted into just one, never mind three. He received a letter from Yale just a few days prior saying he was accepted there too, but he was never praised for it. It was shrugged off just the way his mother had just done then. Maybe it wasn't that great after all, he thought.

He folded up the piece of paper and slid it back into the envelope, pushing aside his feelings of disappointment. "You're right."

"Of course," she agreed. "Now go off and finish the laundry, there's tons to do."

He nodded and did as she said, stopping at the trash to throw his acceptance letter away just as his mother had done with the one from Yale.

His mother didn't lie when she said there was tons of laundry to do. Though most of it had already been washed, there was a mountain of clothes that needed to be folded. He switched the load that was in the washer over to the dryer and started another load to wash before he sat down on the floor to fold.

He felt like he was folding for ages and soon he'd be buried in all the clothes surrounding him. That was what happened when his sister would drop off her laundry to have it done instead of doing it herself while she was at uni. Unlike Harry, she opted to stay close to home for her studies and went to Oregon State University, which was only a few hours drive away. It was nice still having her somewhat nearby, but he also could do without folding thirty pairs of her underwear.