-- Charlie --
If I weren't nearly as dumbfounded as Georgia looks, I'd say Dad takes the cake on appearing to be the most shocked and awkwardly functioning person in the room right about now. Harry's eyes are wide and hold a faint look of terror as our dad stares him down.
"Daddy!" Georgia shouts awkwardly. I can't even believe this. I don't think my sister has ever made out with anybody let alone practically mouth-fucked somebody on our front porch.
Dad composes himself calmly and timely as his demeanor instantly shifts from slack-jawed and horrified to tough and eerily calm.
"Georgia," he says in too calm a voice, almost hollow like his insides have been sucked out.
Another long, silent moment passes while my jaw is still hanging down.
"Sir," Harry starts and offers his hand to Dad. "It's a pleasure to meet you, though, under the circumstances, I'm sure this isn't very pleasant for anyone at the moment."
Silence ensues once more as Dad shifts his gaze to Harry's outstretched hand, and, to my absolute shock and amazement, my father suddenly begins to laugh. He grasps Harry's hand tightly and begins shaking it firmly.
"Bygones, son. Richard Rose II. But almost everyone except my lovely wife calls me Dick," he smiles brightly at Harry. Harry's tense posture slackens as he begins to smile with my father.
"Harry Styles. I'm afraid I haven't got any cool nicknames."
"Well, Harry, we were just waiting on Charlotte's friend to get here. Won't you please join us? Let us know a little bit about you." Dad says it more like a demand than a question.
When Harry obliges and walks hand in hand with Georgia through the front door, I stand to the side and instantly feel enraged. Tonight is about Blake and me, not Georgia and Harry. I swear, it's as if the universe or God or whomever just wants me to sit idly by on the sidelines while everyone else dotes over Georgia. My hands curl up into tight fists by my sides as they pass me by in a group. I try to calm myself by focusing on my breathing. I even try counting, but nothing soothes the rage fighting it's way through me.
"Charlie," Kallie calls to me from the stairs. I know I heard her voice, but I can't focus on her. I just know that if I move, I'll start hurting people. I feel Kallie move in next to me.
"Charlie, listen to me. Listen to me!" She's yelling at me in a whisper to avoid detection of my parents. I hear my mother's voice over the roar of blood in my ears as she greets Harry. "Get it together. It's just the withdrawal, okay? Extreme mood swings. None of this matters. It's not real."
"It is real! It's always been like this! That used to be me! Used to be me..." I begin to breathe again. I don't taste the bitterness of bile in the back of my throat or the burn of rage in the pit of my stomach. Instead, the dull numb ache that's plagued me for the last few years of my life feels amplified and irreparable. I want to scream and run. I want to run until my legs give out and my lungs can't keep up with me. I want to run until I feel something more. I want to run to him but I'm afraid. I don't want to be scared.
I'm not scared.
"Not scared of what?" Kallie asks me. Did I say that out loud? I thought that I was thinking it. Am I losing my mind? I feel like I'm going crazy.
I stop to look at her. My breathing has normalized, and she's holding my shoulders in her tiny hands. The bruises on her face and neck are almost gone.
"Nothing," I say.
"You okay now?"
"Yeah...yeah I'll be okay. I'm just...I'm so..."
YOU ARE READING
Burned {h.s. / n.h.}
Fanfiction"I didn't stop the flames from taking me. I didn't stop him from taking me. Instead, I let him lead me straight into the fire to burn." The city of New Orleans has much to offer in regards to laissez le bon temps roulez, but when Georgia and Charlie...
