Come on Skinny Love

Chapter 11

"Mere, can I talk to you?" Harry asked. I got up and grabbed his arm, leading him to my room. "Hmm, Cozy." He said, looking around my room. Posters and photos covered every inch of my all-white walls. I kept it clean and organized, there was a place for everything and everything was in it's place.

"All these posters and not a single One Direction one?" He faked hurt and placed his hand over heart causing me to burst out in laughter.

"No," I plopped down on my bed. "I'm not really a fan. So, what's up?"

"Well, as I think you've probably gathered by now, I like you.. like REALLY like you..."

"Yeah, I uh, Kinda picked up on that..." It got really quiet and Harry broke away from his stare. "Look," I broke the silence and reached for his hands, forcing him to look at me. "I'm not saying I don't like you, but I just don't know if I'm capable of going out with you." He tried to look like he was okay, but I know what I had just said hurt him, and I felt horrible. "It's nothing personal. I promise. It's just... I promised myself I would never date a musician..." My voice trailedoff and he just nodded his head.

"It's fine, you don't have to explain. I'm a man, I can take it." We stayed in silence, his hands still in mine. I dropped them, and scooted back farther on my bed. I couldn't do anything but tell him why I couldn't date him. It may have been something I swore I would never speak of, but there was something there. I had to tell him.

"Can I trust you?"

"Yeah, sure." He pulled out my chair from under my desk and sat down, leaning on his elbows. I dook a deep breath as I was about to explain something to him about my childhood that nobody- not even Kelly- knew.

"My dad was... is... a rock star. We used to out on the road with him every summer, it was really cool. But 3 years ago, he went on tour. He was scheduled to come back for my sixteenth birthday, but he never showed. Not a single phone call, email, or letter. Nothing.When we tried calling him, he wouldn't pick up. One day, he sent us a Christmas card. It was of him, a twenty-six year old woman, and an eight or nine year old little girl. He left us. He doesn't call or write ever. We weren't supposed to know about the woman or the little girl. From that moment I swore I would NEVER date a musician..." My voice cracked and I could feel the tears welling in my eyes, blurring my vision. My heart broke as I spoke of a memory I had repressed for three years. I haven't seen or spoken to my dad and I really missed him.

Harry got up from the chair and pulled me up off the bed, wrapping his arms around me as I cried in to his chest.

"Please don't say anything."  I whisper.

"I won't."