Fratboy Harry and Other Stories

Fratboy Harry - Part 8

"Okay then," you nodded, trying to keep your calm even though you were boiling inside.

Mandy hesitated again. "You wanna hear the rest?"

"Please. By all means, go on."

This time Mandy sat down next to you on the sofa.

"A while later, I was in the living room talking to this guy. You remember that guy pumping the keg last weekend?"

"Yeah," you nodded.

"His name's Chase," she announced.

"Of course it is," you rolled your eyes, though Mandy didn't seem to notice.

"So we were talking and I saw Harry walk in and sit down and this girl came and sat in his lap. They weren't like making out or anything, but she certainly looked cozy, and he wasn't making any moves to push her off."

"It was Jamie?" you inquired.

Mandy pursed her lips and shook her head. "She was a brunette."

You groaned. "Fucking asshole."

"I don't know what happened after that, [Y/N], I'm sorry. I went outside with Chase and when I came back in, they were gone."

You sucked in your lips and stood. "I guess that's it then," you threw up your hands.

"What's it?" Mandy asked incredulously.

"It was all a lie. Jamie was his girlfriend, they broke up. She's still hung up on him. He's a dickhead."

You caught sight of Mandy shifting her eyes when you walked past her toward your bedroom.

"Wait!" she called after you. "How did you get that?"

"How did you not?" you turned to look at her. "It all makes sense now, Mandy."

"But...what about you?"

"What about me?" you scoffed. "I meant nothing to him. I meant even less than she did."

"That's so...sad," muttered Mandy.

You laughed sarcastically. "Yes, my entire love life is tragic."

"I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand. "I'm going to bed now. Goodnight."

Shutting your bedroom door behind you, you fell onto your bed. You started to feel that scratchiness in your throat. That feeling you get when tears are coming.

Don't you fucking cry, you told yourself. He's not worth it.

Stupid boy.

— —

Monday morning you got to class early to go over a few things with your professor before the test. The previous night's rain had left the sidewalk slippery and full of puddles, so you were watching your step instead of looking straight ahead.

"Hey," you heard him say.

"Oh shit, you scared me!" you exclaimed, placing your hand over your heart.

"Sorry."

"What are you doing here?" you breathed, gripping your backpack tighter.

"I was hoping to talk to you," Harry replied.

"I have absolutely nothing to say to you," you argued, trying to step around him toward the English building.

"Please?" he grabbed your arm. "Just give me a few minutes."

"I think you've used up all your minutes, Harry."

You freed yourself from his grip and began to walk up the steps, but he followed you.

"I was wondering why I didn't see you at the party Saturday," he said.

You stopped and glared at him.

"Were you really?" you spat. "I seriously doubt you thought of me one iota. From what I hear, you had your hands full."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're not the only one with friends, Mr. Popular. My sources tell me you had a little dish sitting in your lap most of the night."

Harry swallowed hard. You thought for a moment perhaps he was feeling remorse, or maybe he was just embarrassed for being called on it.

"Who told you that?" he asked.

"Does it matter?" you shrugged. Then you shook your head. "You're such an asshole."

"Wait a minute!" Harry called as you continued to ascend the stairs. "You're the one who decided you didn't want to be with me! You can't tell me who I can and can't hang out with!"

There was a slight pause as you ignored his protest. Then he cleared his throat and continued.

"Look, babe, I'm sorry if hearing I was with another girl upsets you, but that's your problem. We never said we were exclusive."

You turned at the top step, glaring down at him.

"You're right, Harry," you nodded. "We didn't. And I have no right to tell you who you can hang out with. But I can tell you to fuck off."

With that, you turned for the door, leaving Harry with his mouth open in the middle of the stairs.