"Turn it off," Harry groans as the alarm rings throughout the dark bedroom.
My fingers fumble to grab my phone and with a swipe of my thumb across the screen the sound stops. My shoulders feel heavy as I sit up in bed, the weight of today's decisions threaten to pull me down. The University's decision whether or not to keep Harry in school, Harry's reaction over Seattle, and finally Zayn's decision whether or not to press charges against Harry.
I can't decide which of these terrify me the most. By the time I turn the bathroom light on and splash cool water against my face I decide the assault charges are the worse. If Harry is sent to jail I honestly have no idea what I would do, what he would do. The thought alone makes me nauseous. Zayn's request to meet with me this morning resurfaces and my mind reels with all the possibilities of what he could want to talk about. I'm convinced it has to do with Harry and the impending charges but I thought we had resolved that issue already, apparently I was wrong.
I inhale and exhale into the soft towel hanging on the wall, should I reply to Zayn and at least see what he has to say? Maybe he can offer an explanation on why he told Tristan he was going to press charges against Harry, or better yet why he told me he wouldn't if he was planning to? I feel guilty for asking that of him, especially considering the damage Harry did to him but I care more about Harry not getting in trouble than I do feeling guilty for Zayn. My thoughts surprise me and even now, I feel worse for thinking them but that's the way it is. I have never thought rationally when it comes to Harry and I probably never will.
I grab my phone and reply to Zayn before I can think of the repercussions, I am only trying to help Harry. I remind myself that over and over while I finish my hair and makeup.
When I walk out into the living room the blanket is folded neatly on the arm of the couch, my heart sinks. He left? The soft noise of a cabinet opening in the kitchen picks my heart up from the floor and carries me into the dark room. I switch the light on and something clatters against the concrete floor.
"Sorry, I was trying to be as quiet as possible," my father says as he rushes to retrieve the bowl from the floor.
"It's okay, I was up. You could have turned the light on," I laugh quietly.
"I didn't want to wake anyone.I was just trying to make some cereal, I hope that's okay,"
"Of course it is," I start the coffee pot and check the clock, I need to wake Harry in fifteen minutes.
"What are your plans for today?" He asks with a mouth full of frosted flakes, Harry's favorite.
"I have class and Harry has a meeting with the university board."
"He does? What for?"
Should I tell him?
"He got in a fight on campus,"
"And they're making him talk in front of the board? In my day, you got a slap on the wrist and that was that."
"He destroyed a lot of property, expensive property, and he broke the guy's nose." I sigh and stir a spoonful of sugar into my coffee, I need the extra energy today.
"Nice, so what was the fight about?"
"Me, sort of. It was something that was building over time and it finally just... exploded."
"Well I like Harry even more now than I did last night," he beams.
I shake my head and gulp down half my coffee, letting the hot liquid soothe my frantic nerves.
"Where's he from?"
"Thought so, his family's still there?"