Note To Self (Harry Styles AU)

Chapter Sixty Nine.

"Doesn't matter," he mumbled through a particularly dry bite of his food. He struggled to swallow. "Just... sorry. About everything."

Blue eyes remained glued to his face, searching for eye contact and more elaboration that never came. "Okay."

The somber mood that Harry carried with him permeated off his body like a bad smell, and it made the entire lunch rather uncomfortable. He did try his very best to make conversation, just to lighten the mood and hopefully drag himself out of the depths of despair, but she never quite took the bait and left him hanging because she still felt sour toward him.

Part of her fully expected for Aubry to pop up behind her and grind her gears just as she always did, but that never happened. Not that Aubry didn't notice where Harry had found himself that afternoon, but that she didn't have the right to interfere anymore. Granted, she never did, but even she recognized it this time. The jealousy she felt was unwarranted, so she let it gnaw away at her sanity as she watched them halfheartedly speak. Harry never once looked over at her. He never sought her out, never paid any mind to where she chose to sit that day. It was by herself, at the free table Harry had been at the few days before.

He let life carry on. He returned to work, went back to filling his days entirely with school work and nothing else, and he cried himself to sleep every night. Every morning he woke with a headache, and every day he avoided looking in her direction to keep the punches to the stomach at a minimum.

Ben had skipped out on buying a record that Thursday, and it left Harry feeling lonely. The only thing that made his shift somewhat worthwhile that day was Brandon, when he'd come in after school and the first thing that welcomed him was a hug. He decided then that he really liked Brandon a lot, even with the weird feeling of knowing his past with the girl who'd broken his heart.

Harry's bag was set behind the counter in it's usual spot after Brandon had let him go. "How you been?"

Terrible. "Alright."

Harry straightened up and turned around to face toward him, and when he did, Brandon held slender brown items between them on an outstretched palm. "I owe you."

It was two blunts.

Harry shook his head, but Brandon held it even closer and insisted, "Take it."

And because he was already on a roll with making bad decisions, he took them. Stashed away in his backpack for safe keeping, and it wasn't until later that night on the back porch, long after his parents had gone to bed, that he smoked one. He tried to keep his coughs quiet with their bedroom window looming above, but he wasn't exactly fearful of being caught. He no longer cared. The world slowed, his pain lessened, and he reached the conclusion that he, unfortunately, enjoyed smoking. He managed a full nights sleep that night.

School on Friday was nothing more than a repeat of Thursday. Stare bitterly at the back of Aubry's head, try his absolute hardest to avoid her at all costs whenever he could, and he sat with Sophie again at lunch. The ache in his heart grew numb over the weekend. It was still very much there, but the continuous presence became a part of his life he would have to grow accustomed to. The mental blockers were fully installed, but he was still figuring out how to manage them so the full weight of how hurt he was came in waves.

It often crushed him whenever he was alone, and he made an effort to be around someone as often as he could. That landed him helping his mother in the garden, visiting his grandparents, and sitting at the dog park with Winnie. Sunday, he even managed to get dad in the garage to work on the Mustang. All were used as a coverup, a distraction, and the forced laughs and smiles never quite reached his soul. He felt as though he were wearing a mask.