Chapter Seven:
***
Brooke sighed in relief as she slid her hand luggage under her seat. In thirty minutes, the plane would finally take off.
Brooke fished around her bag, where her phone was ringing incessantly.
"Hello?"
"Hi, this is Cynthia Hunter, from management."
"Who is it?" Harry mouthed.
Brooke held a finger up. "Oh, I think you meant to call Harry," she said into the phone.
"No, I meant to call you."
"Oh, alright then."
"We're interested in having you as a model," she explained.
Brooke barely contained her excitement. "What?"
"So, if you're interested, call me back at this number. Then we can talk about sample shots."
Brooke nodded vigorously, then remembering that Cynthia couldn't see her. "Okay."
Cynthia hung up.
"What was that about?" Harry asked
"Management wants me to model," she explained, breathless.
"What? Do you want to?"
Brooke shrugged. "A little."
"I don't think you should."
"Why not?"
Because Tyler isn't in jail anymore and he could very possibly see the pictures and hunt you down.
Harry almost spoke the words aloud, instead replacing them with, "I don't think it's your thing." He didn't want to admit that he was scared.
Brooke shrugged again.
"Please turn off all electronic devices, and prepare for takeoff."
Brooke took Harry's hand in hers as she looked out the window of the airplane. Soon the greenery became a blur and she was looking down at the palm trees and the white sand beaches of Bora Bora.
***
Brooke sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen of her and Harry's penthouse. Jewell was making eggs while Brooke slurped on her fourth Go-Gurt.
Jewell turned away from the stove. "What is your sudden obsession with those things? I mean, please enlighten me. What's appetizing to you about watered down gooey yogurt that you slurp out of a tube?"
Brooke shrugged. "I used to hate them. But then I had to ask Harry to go out and get some last night. Don't ask, because I don't know."
Suddenly Brooke's stomach flipped and she rushed to the bathroom.
"Brooke?" Jewell followed her closely, sounding confused.
She gathered Brooke's hair to keep it from entering the toilet, where Brooke was throwing up.
When she was done, Jewell handed her a toothbrush.
"Thanks," Brooke muttered.
"What'd you drink last night?"
"Nothing!" Brooke declared defensively, spitting into the sink.
Her eyes widened with sudden realization.
"What?" Jewell snapped. Then she gasped. "Oh..."
"Can you run down to the nearest pharmacy and get me a pregnancy test?"
YOU ARE READING
True {Harry Styles}
Fanfiction"Harry, you can't just do this whenever you feel like it, it's different now!" she called. The slam of the front door was her response. Brooke leaned back against the wall and slumped down until she was sitting on the floor, her head in my hands...
