Teenage Dirtbag ✖ ((Harry Styles/Selena Gomez))

19. Misery Business

"Okay," Hayley huffs before throwing my arms off of her, "See you."

"Did Hayley say anything?" the familiar voice startles me and I turn around to see Selena ready to leave, bag in hand and store all clean and prepared to close.

"Nah, just reprimanding me as usual for trashing her music," I attempt to keep my voice in a joking manner as she shrugs, thankfully clueless to our previous discussion. She sighs in disapproval but nonetheless locks up the store and wraps her arms firmly around my waist as I bend down to kiss her on the forehead.

"You are so beautiful, you know that?" my arm drapes around her shoulder tightly, pulling her petite figure into my bigger one protectively. She shakes her head denying it but I can tell she's blushing as she suddenly averts her gaze. I never imagined saying those words to anyone, except maybe my mum and sister, and it's weird how naturally they just effortlessly flow out of my mouth now.

Selena's POV:

After we return to my house, I notice a note attached to the fridge as usual--another reminder that my mum is nowhere to be seen.

"Where is she now?" Harry questions, resting his chin on my shoulder and hugging me from behind, locking my torso into his toned arms.

"Paris fashion exhibit," I toss the note aside before squirming out of his grasp and tugging on his wrist gently and leading him to the sofa in the living room. Mindlessly, I place his arms around me and snuggle up to his chest, the two of us lying comfortably and parallel from each other with the television on. He plays with my hair and I close my eyes momentarily, inhaling his scent and burying my head deeper into the crook of his neck.

After another hour of watching The X Factor reruns, Harry suddenly sits up, the vibration of his phone interrupting us. He runs his hands through his curls looking a bit flustered as his fingers soon travel to the touch keyboard, quickly texting whoever it was a short message in return.

"Who was it?" I wonder who and what they said that can put Harry on such edge.

"Nobody," he shakes his head but I frown, knowing he's hiding something from me. Suddenly, he carefully removes my touch and stands up, heading towards the door without so much a word.

"Where are you going?" I now join him standing up, arms folded across my chest, not entirely happy that he's planning on leaving so abruptly without telling me anything.

"It doesn't concern you," he snaps and I flinch a bit at his bitter tone. Before I can say another word, he storms out, as I just stare at him speechless. Right when things are starting to get good, something worse always happens.

Hayley's POV:

Just as I'm hanging out with Jeremy and Taylor, my bandmates, for rehearsals, my phone sounds off. Trying my best to ignore it, I continue singing the songs we had lined up for tonight but the incessant ringing throws us off. Annoyed, I sheepishly apologize to the boys and jump off the stage to check who the fuck it is.

Harry.

It's always this asshole.

"What?" I nearly hiss into the speaker, receiving an equally frustrated voice.

"Look, practice came up. So, you're going to have to go over to Sel and watch her tonight. Keep her away, you hear me?"

"Whatever," I hang up without bothering to hear anything else he has to say. Throwing my phone in a safe cushion, I return back to the boys, regaining my position again as we rock out in our garage in preparation.

After we finish, we decide to give ourselves a break and not over-work or unnecessarily stress too much. It's not like it's the first time we're performing anyway. Checking the time, I notice it's close to when Selena should be arriving. The boys help me gather our instruments and materials and transport them from my garage where we've been practicing to the trunk of the car that we'll be driving in later. When almost everything's ready to go, I lightly jog towards the front door, opening it and welcoming them in. They sit on the couch as I patiently wait for Selena by the front, tapping my fingers against the door to pass time. I smile when I see her familiar dark hair, walking up the steps to my porch tentatively.