Unrequited

Chapter 17 (Part 2)

“We probably shouldn’t be playing this in the presence of a lady, Lou,” Niall said, as if he had only just realised I was there. His gaze was still tied to the screen that was filled with gory images of blood spattered corpses and animated men keeling over after a gunshot to the head. “No worries, Niall. I’ve seen worse,” I promised. “I’m not as innocent as I look.”

“Ha!” burst out Harry. “Says the girl who’s never even been kissed!” I don’t know if he meant it to sound so cutting, degrading almost, but that’s the way I heard it. His eyes were still focused on the TV as I looked at him, a sign that it could have been just a meaningless passing comment. Except it wasn’t. I had told him of my secret heartache over such issues as that many nights ago in Brighton. I thought he knew it wasn’t exactly a joke to me anymore, having to always endure being second best. It wasn’t just me being a hormonal teenager, whining about not having a boyfriend. It was me being fed up with taking the role of sidekick to my stunning best friend and watching her getting kissed by all the boys I’d ever truly liked (plus more). After Harry’s comment, Liam’s goodbyes to his girlfriend could not have come at a more opportune moment. “I miss you too, beautiful...I know, I know...alright babe, I love you. So much.” After having to listen to all that, I had never been so grateful for Louis and his tea obsession. “Anyone up for a cup of tea?” he asked, setting his controller down on the coffee table, apparently having defeated Niall. “Yeah, thanks mate,” said Liam, snatching up the discarded controller.  The other boys nodded in reply and Louis got up off the couch. “I’ll give you a hand,” I offered, following him out. “In an appropriate way, I hope!” Harry called after us. I turned to give him a hard look, still a little taken aback.

“Gosh, you boys are a mess!” I exclaimed, rolling up my sleeves and organising a plan of attack on the jam-packed sink. “Well, can I say,” Louis began, switching on the kettle and opening the cupboard to find some mugs, “I’m glad you’re here to clean up for us Char!”

“Comes at a cost, Lou.”

“Oh?” He distributed the tea bags amongst five mugs as I finished drying a sixth one for myself. “I’ll think of something later,” I yawned. After the kettle boiled, he poured all of the mugs and backed through the lounge door as I finished making the rest. My heart sank a little, my mind wandering back to what Harry had said. It would have sounded like nothing to anyone else, but to me, it hurt a little. I’d told him that information in confidence and he’d kind of used it as a joke at my expense. Worst of all, Harry’s comment had taken me back (yet again) to the night of the Winter Ball. The night he’d almost made me the girl who had been kissed. The pain of having that long-awaited moment interrupted shot through my stomach again.

Why was it that the boy I was upset over always wanted to barge in on me at my lowest moments? I couldn’t come up with an answer as Harry joined me at the sink. I concentrated on stirring the mugs of tea as I felt Harry watching me on the periphery of my vision. “Charlotte.” I frowned. “Charlotte,” he repeated, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at him. “What, Harry?” I was unamused. “Are you mad at me?” he asked, eyebrows pulled together. I exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Not exactly.”

“You’re acting mad.” He crossed his arms and leant against the bench, then pushed himself in between me and the steaming mugs so I had nothing to distract myself with. “I’m not...mad...as such.”

“Oh right, so this is how you treat people you’re overjoyed with then?” he grinned. “I’m not treating you like anything, Harry.” 

“So you just gave me the mother of all death stares back there by accident? And just then, you didn’t answer to your name being called five inches away from your ear because maybe you couldn’t hear me over the tea-stirring?” I pouted and jutted my jaw to one side, leaning back against the bathroom door in an attempt to be as far from him as possible in the narrow aisle of the bus. Standing too close to Harry did funny things to me. It was like I fell completely at his mercy. “Exactly,” he replied in regard to my silence, “Those things would indicate that you’re angry at me.”