Inked > h.s au {DISCONTINUED}

chapter 20

There's something about dresses that makes me hate them. Maybe it's the way that some of them are just too- what's the word? Oh, yeah. Frilly. Or how you are always forced to close your legs while you're wearing them. (Like, who gave you the right? I can open my legs if I want to, goddamit.)

I'm very glad that Piper is hanging out with Niall so she doesn't have to make fun of me through this endless thought process.

I only came into this town with one dress. It was the dress that my sister had given me on my 17th birthday, just before she was diagnosed. The top is black and sleeveless, with buttons running down the bust; the bottom of the dress is floral with a belt wrapped around the waist. It was a proper gift at the time, and it's a proper gift now- there's just a lot more nostalgia now.

The nostalgia is something that I can live with, though, because Harry called me up last night and proclaimed that we were going to celebrate.

"Celebrate what?" I had asked, with a smile on my lips.

"Celebrate your good marks, idiot," he said, and I could imagine the role of his eyes and the smirk on his face. "You left your grades open on your computer when I was over last night. You're, like, fucking ace."

I laughed, leaning back in my chair and crossing my bare legs. (So what I like to do homework without pants?) "Ace, Harry? Wow. Okay, um. What are we going to celebrate with, exactly?"

He had hummed into the phone, and I heard the faint rhythym of music in the background. It was probably some band that I had never heard of, because what else would it be?

"Giagio's. I'll pick you up at 7 tomorrow, yeah?" His music suddenly turned down at the sound of someone knocking at the door. "I've gotta go, babe. I'll talk to you tomorrow, alright? Like you."

A giggle escaped my lips at that. Just as we had left the park, Louis was complaining how awful it was that people just said "goodbye" on telephones and how boring it is. Although we had all just laughed it off, Harry had left me the next morning with saying "Like you," rather than 'I love you' or a simple 'goodbye'. I ate it up, of course. So I guess it's our silent thing now, isn't it?

So that leads me to where I am now- deciding on what exactly to do with my hair and whether or not it's appropriate to wear converse. The true struggles of a white girl.

The ringtone of Niall's moaning blazes on my phone, causing me to come out of my mindset of datedatedate. (Niall's moaning ringtone is perfectly normal, by the way. He just took my phone while Harry and I were on a ride and recorded various ringtones for me to choose from after the fact. The moaning seemed most appropriate.)

Harry's name lights up, and nothing stops me from answering it seconds after the ringer starts. "Hey!" I say cheerfully (and probably a bit too loudly). "I was just about to call you. Do you think it would be okay to wear converse to Giagio's, or maybe not? Because, like, I know it's the fanciest restaurant in Savannah, but you work there, so-"

"Lennon, calm down," Harry interrupts from the other side. "I've been meaning to tell you, love, I have to cancel tonight. I'm sorry, I didn't want to cancel on our first, like, official date, but. I've just got loads of homework and an essay due tomorrow and I haven't even started. And, like, I didn't want to hurt your feelings by telling you, but I'm just really knackered- I mean tired- tired is the American way...god, nevermind."

I force a giggle into the phone, feeling a tang of disappointment. "Wait, fuck. I'm not disappointed, alright? I'm really sorry, babe- I'll make it up to you, yeah? We can go out on, like, Wednesday, I promise. Just, like. Not tonight. I'm sorry?" And I can tell that he's genuine in his words, earnest laced through his tone.