❝How many moments in life can you point to and say: 'That's when it all changed'?❞ ▬ Brooke Davis, One Tree Hill.

CHAPTER TWELVE


 "Okay, so, we rehearse every night from ten to eleven, in that abandoned warehouse near the edge of town. There are three other guys in the band: Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik, and Liam Payne. They're all great guys and I'm sure you'll get along well. Louis plays the drums, and he's a bit loud and crazy. Zayn is more laid-back and quiet, and he plays the keyboards. Liam's the sensible one -- but we're slowly corrupting him. Anyway, he's on bass. We all sing, but I sing the most because I don't play an instrument. Hey, don't look at me like that -- I'm the one who created the bloody band."

Harry stands with his hands on his hips, looking down at Niall and I; we're leaning against the peeling walls in the exact same place as when we first met, our bums pressed to the dusty floorboards. Niall is staring at Harry intently, hanging onto his every word; it's clear to see that he's extremely passionate about being in the band -- even though the offer has only been standing for about half an hour -- and doesn't want to screw up. I, on the other hand, am only half-listening; I'm too distracted by the text I've just received, which I'm staring at in shock, iPhone resting in my clammy hand. 

It's from Cassidy. As in, Cassidy my old best friend. Cassidy who I haven't spoken to in years. My Cassidy. 

I read it over and over again, unsure of how to reply. Before long, I've practically memorised the text; I could probably recite it in my sleep. It reads:

                hey anna! it's your old bestie, cassidy. remember me? wow, we haven't spoken in years. i guess that's my fault... anyway, guess what! i'm moving back to bournemouth. london just wasn't for me. i dropped my uni course -- it was shit, basically. i'm coming back on thursday the first of august. let me know if you want to meet up! xxxx

I just can't get my head around it; any of it. It's been two days since the anniversary of my father's death and she hasn't so much as offered an apology or even asked how I am -- she couldn't have forgotten, could she? After all, she cried with me when he died. She was there for me when nobody else was; when my mother spent days curled up in the corner, weeping her heart to irreparable pieces, a ghost of the woman she once was, and I, a naive fourteen year-old girl, had no idea how to cope. And as for the not speaking in years part, Cassidy acknowledges that it was her fault -- I tried to get in touch but she wasn't having any of it -- but still hasn't said sorry. And now she wants to meet up as if nothing's changed? While Harry drones on about rehearsals and Niall nods like an eager puppy, I tap out an annoyed reply, my fingers becoming more rapid with each letter as my level of annoyance rises. 

 

              Hi, Cass. It's good to hear from you, especially after not speaking for TWO YEARS. Anyway, sorry, but I don't think I can meet up for another few months. After all, it was the anniversary of my dad's death the other day, and I haven't exactly been in the best of moods. Or maybe you didn't realise that people have feelings? I mean, you didn't really care about my well-being when you left for London and never answered my calls. Selfish little bitch. Anyway, I think it's best if

"Hey!" Niall says beside me, and before I can finish my sentence, he's snatching my phone from my grasp, peering down at the screen. He glances at me, his brow furrowed. "'Selfish little bitch'? You weren't seriously thinking of sending this, were you?"

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