where we were || h.s

Five

"I've got class on Tuesday."

"You are the worst." I say, groaning. "What time are you leaving?"

"Probably around eight or nine."

"Well, we can go to the pub and you don't have to drink—we'll go early! Please, Harry?" He rolls his eyes.

"Fine." He grabs his wine glass and mine, before walking out of the kitchen. "I hope he and the Fretless Nuts aren't singing." I assume we're going up to my bedroom.

"You're such a prick." I say, mid-laugh. When we get to my room, he carefully places the glasses down and then collapses onto my bed. I slip into my closet and close the door, leaving it a crack open so I can still converse with him. I pull my clothes off and slip into old boxer shorts and one of the flannels that Harry outgrew a while back. Nothing was more comfortable. As I step out, I pretend I don't see his eyes quickly and mindlessly rake up and down my body. I know we're both past the awkward puberty phase, our bodies have fully developed, yada-yada. I don't blame him for looking, I really don't. In fact, I've mentally noted his change. His abundance of silly littered tattoos, half being random doodles that I've drawn. The rather obnoxiously sized moth on his toned tummy. His muscles and his dimples—well, he's always had those. He's just a totally attractive male, what can I say? "So, how's your little girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"But you like her."

"I do, yeah. Is Zin your boyfriend?"

"It's Zayn...and touché." He wiggles his eyebrows.

"She's really lovely, Beth. I think you'd like her."

"If you like her, I'm sure I will." He stares at me for a minute, his arms crossed behind his head of messy curls.

"What'd you, um...what did you do—like, with him?"

"You mean, physically?"

"Yeah."

"We kissed for a while...nothing else." He nods, letting a few more seconds pass.

"I wish you'd move to London."

"Not this again..." I groan, "Harry, it's been two years since you've lived there without me, when are you going to drop the idea of me moving away from Shoreham?"

"When you move away from Shoreham."

"I don't wanna leave."

"Yeah, cause you're scared—but you have no reason to be."

"I have plenty of reasons to be. And I like it here, I've told you this a thousand times."

"I'm there."

"It hasn't gotten me there yet, has it?"

"You're going to drown here."

"I think I'll be just fine."

"Your mum left, she moved to London and then New York. My mum lived in London for years before she had Gem and me. They settled down here, yeah, but—"

"Mum moved to New York and she met my knob of a father. Look how that turned out."

"The same thing isn't going to happen to you...and for the record, I think it's been a pretty cool life. We wouldn't have met if it wasn't for your knob of a father. In fact, I'd like to thank him someday." I lay my head down on the pillow, both of us staring up at the white wood-paneled ceiling.

"I love the way mum has raised me. I love that you're my very best friend in the whole world. But I don't want to get hurt by some man in some big city."