Right Now

17. For reasons we don't understand

There was probably a perfectly obvious explanation for the photo of Harry and Janelle, I thought as I followed the others into the lecture theatre. Maybe she had gone back to his room after filming in the hotel gym to continue the interview there. Right, that was probably it.

I pulled out my phone, found the post on Tumblr and stared at it for a long moment. Harry didn't look like he had just done a workout - at least not one in a gym. The photo had to have been taken before Harry and Liam were filmed in the hotel gym at 8am on Sunday morning.

So what was Janelle doing in his room before 8am on a Sunday morning?

Emma, you idiot - what do you think?

I couldn't believe that Harry had neglected to mention the photo in the conversation we had just had. If it was something innocent, wouldn't he have explained it?

Shit.

I wished I had seen this before we'd spoken just now, so I could have asked him about it.

As much as I wanted to believe that nothing had gone on with Janelle, the photo did suggest they had spent the night together.

No wonder Harry felt the need to apologise for something. But did he really seriously think I was just going to shrug my shoulders and say, "Oops, never mind. You went off and shagged someone else but I'll just ignore it because you're being ever so nice to me and telling me how sexy I am."

No wonder he'd been labelled a womaniser. If it was true, if he had slept with Janelle, then it was all over for us.

I didn't care if he was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. I didn't care that I'd idolised him for years. I didn't care if he was sweet and funny and made me feel so very special. I didn't care if his kisses set my whole body on fire. I was not going to be played like that. I would not put up with it.

You can fuck right off, Harry Styles.

God, I hoped I was wrong.

My data finally ran out. I switched my phone off and slung it into my bag.

"You all right?" said Kate.

"Yeah, fine," I said, pulling out a pen and pad.

But I wasn't. And 10 minutes later, as I watched the lecturer's mouth moving and I realised I couldn't understand a single word she was saying, I looked down and noticed that instead of taking notes, I had doodled a series of emojis in the margin on my pad. They were all broken hearts.

*****

I didn't hear from Harry again that day. There was no confirmation that he would call me the next evening as arranged, no update on what was happening with Zayn, no explanations for why Janelle had been in his bedroom early on Sunday morning.

Damn, I just could not wait to hear what he was going to come out with when he called tomorrow night to tell me all about his stupidity.

Against my better judgment, when I got home I told my mum about the photo of Harry and Janelle. She gave me a big hug before going off on the rant I was expecting.

"Honestly, how hard is it to keep your dick in your pants? I was right the first time when I said he was a knobhead. Tell him where to go sweetheart, you don't need any of this stress."

What I really didn't need was her going on about it.

"I'm going up to my room, I've got an essay to write."

I grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl, picked up my bag and headed up to my room. Phoebe was at a friend's so I had the room to myself. I switched my laptop on, got out my notes and sat down at my desk. Fifteen minutes later I still hadn't written a word, all I had done was google Janelle Henry.