Maybe

Sixteen

The pounding sound in my head wakes me up.

I reach to grab my phone from the nightstand, but find it missing. The smell of these sheets is unfamiliar, and so is the sound of the breath of whoever is sleeping next to me.

Harry.

Everything that happened last night flashes through my mind all at once. Me practically begging him for sex, him saying no because I'm a virgin, and him fingering me on the bathroom floor.

I groan at the thought of all the dirty things I said to him last night. He must think I'm an idiot.

I slip out of bed, peeling off before getting into the shower. The warm water doesn't help sooth my throbbing headache at all. I also realize that I'm out of clean clothes. I don't want to put that dress back on. I also don't have clean panties, a comb, or a toothbrush.

I hear Harry stir in the nearby room, and he groans when he finds my presence not there.

"Scout?" He says, his words making my head ache.

"Shh. Yes I'm right here."

"Hungover?" He asks, and I can feel the smirk in his voice.

"Yes." I say.

"Do you remember everything?" He props himself on his elbows, looking at me in my towel.

"Yes." I say, turning from his green eyed gaze.

He smiles at my expression of embarrassment.

"I need you to go to Target for me." I tell him.

"Why?" He asks.

"Because I don't have any clean stuff." I say.

"Okay, what do you need?"

"Uh underwear, and like sweats and a hoodie."

"I have a hoodie you can use."

"Okay." I say as he grabs his keys.

I sit around, unsure of what to do. I try to sleep, but the thoughts of last night run through my mind.

"I can't take that from you Scout."

"I want you to take it though. I've wanted you to since the first time we kissed."

"I can't. When you're sober, if you still want to, I'll do it. But while you're so drunk, I can't."

I can't believe I said that to him. I never ment it.

Did I?

What is going on between Harry and I? He doesn't want me to even be looked at by other guys, but at the same time he turns pale at the thought of dating. That was the farthest I've been sexually with a guy, and he isn't even my boyfriend, and doesn't want to be.

I remember Louis telling me that Harry is lying to himself. The thought has crossed my mind before, but I didn't think much of it. Is he? Does he actually want to be with me, but won't get out of his own way?

My thoughts are interrupted by the door opening, and Harry walks in, carrying a bag.

"Here." He says, throwing it at me before getting in the shower.

Inside is the bag is some sweatpants, a toothbrush, a comb, and of course, red lace underwear. Leave it to Harry to pick the sexist one he could find.

I change, and lay back down. There's still so much to figure out revolving Harry and I, and I wish I had my journal.

I try to think of ways to bring the topic up to Harry. He will shut down at any direct conversation, so I'll have to find another way.