Unrequited

Chapter 10

I sat on a couch at the front of the bus (the manager’s tour bus, not the boys’ bus, that is), my feet up on the table in front of me and my laptop where it was always intended to sit; my lap. We were on our way to Bournemouth for the boys’ next show. I logged into my email for the first time in ages and was inundated with little yellow message signs with ‘Sara Hastings’ written beside them. I didn’t want to neglect my best friend but I also knew her emails would be full of nauseating date-with-new-boyfriend recaps. It’s not like I hadn’t been through this before. I was best friend of the infamous Sara Hastings of Wallbrook High. Endless talk of current boyfriends, ex-boyfriends, soon-to-be-boyfriends, never-will-be-boyfriends and wish-he’d-never-been-boyfriends was expected. Tolerating all this was in my official contract of best friend loyalty. I should be admired for my endurance of all this, I thought as I began to trawl through her hastily typed emails, some as long as novels, recounting a whole physical description of ‘Tommy’ (Ew...) and others just a sentence along the lines of ‘OMG CHAR, I ACTUALLY SERIOUSLY THINK I LOVE HIM’. I actually seriously think I’m going to have a brain hemorrhage. The latest email she’d sent went like this:

charlotte emily hawthorne, i need you here right now!  i cannot cope with having no one to talk to about all this! in all seriousness, i really can’t believe im finally with tom. ive liked him for years and never bothered to do anything about it because of that stupid vanessa chick hanging off his arm like a leech 24/7. but he actually dropped her for me. ME. sara hastings over leech girl. it sounds like a no brainer really but i can see why he liked her. what can i say? boys just cant get past bra sizes. BUT HE FINALLY CHOSE ME. im still in shock. but enough about me. i want to hear about you and these british boys! you were painfully nonchalant about them in your text. which makes me think theyre either complete assholes or a something-something has happened. ohmygod a something-something happened didnt it!?!??!?!?!!??!?! i can just feel it. i bet you have a major crush on one and you make out in his dressing room or something. wouldnt put it past you char;);) i expect a long email. i need details!! surely SOMETHING interesting has happened to you. you’re in england for gods sake. even if its just ‘an english bird pooped on me yesterday’ or ‘i wiped my bum with english toilet paper’. both are equally exciting. hugs, sara xxx

Sigh.

sara rachelle hastings. i apologise profusely for not being there at your time of need but im having so much fun over here i actually dont have time to feel that guilty. im kidding of course. im very very very excited for you sar! just dont stuff this one up okay? hes your dream boy. dont rush things. take your time. appreciate the little things. and please dont tell me youve already told him you love him. because you’ve hardly been together for a week sara. *crosses fingers*. 

you forget who i am, best friend! something-somethings dont happen to me remember? besides, im on this tour because there was no other option for me. im not really here to socialise, however the boys have been incredibly lovely to me. they take me out with them and make sure im included which they really dont have to do. harry (the curly haired one) even bought me the most gorgeous hair slide in brighton yesterday! they are all so stunningly good looking I sometimes forget to breathe when speaking to them. but apart from that minor setback im having the best time! sorry, i dont have any such exciting stories as the ones you gave as examples. the most exciting story i have (if it can even be called that), is the one where i threw up after going on some death trap ride on brighton pier and poor harry held my hair back as i did so. i was a little mortified that he had seen me at such a time and i havent spoken to him much since yesterday. ta daaa? satisfied? i’ll try to get myself into some more riveting situations than those i have previously described. HUGS, char xxxxx

Now, being me, I had been up all night in bed in my hotel room, staring at the roof, going over what had happened at the pier. I didn’t think much of what was happening at the time but lying there in silence, the events of the day creeped back to me and rolled over and over in my mind. I thought about it so much that I started getting all these crazy ideas. Ideas like Harry really didn’t want to go on that ride without me. Like he came into the girl’s bathroom after me because he really did care if I was okay and not just because he felt guilty and wanted to be a gentleman. Like he left his hands at my neck for the sake of touching me and not because he was keeping my hair out of the way. It played over like a movie in my head: I could feel him standing behind me, his hands lightly brushing my face as he pulled back my hair. I lifted my head, leaning on the sink for support and met his entrancing green eyes in the mirror. Was it just me or was he blinking in slow motion? My pulse thudded in my ears. We didn’t break eye contact. Then I watched incredulously as the girl in the mirror turned her head to look up at the boy who slowly lowered his face down to hers and - I had sat bolt upright in bed. Charlotte. That did not happen, I told myself. You’re just paranoid because he was touching you and boys don’t usually do that. I told myself over and over that Harry was just being a good friend but of course there was that stupid lying little voice at the back of my head saying he had an alternate motive. Even sitting there in the bus the next day I had to force those risky thoughts out. I had to stop thinking like this, it was ridiculous! I didn’t feel that way about Harry and he definitely didn’t feel that way about me.