About (Harry Styles)

42.

"Forget it," he bitterly scoffs.

Why is being so mean?

I know he's mad about everything that has happened between us, the airport incident, and the paper relationship. He's sick of dealing with me, I know. But he could at least make this a little easier for the both of us by showing me some benevolence.

"Why are you here?" I try my best to sound cold, which is easy for me to do. But it's a complete failure. I can't even behave cruelly after everything I've done to him.

"We're leaving for London tomorrow," he says unenthusiastically. His expression isn't too ecstatic about it either. "My family wants to meet you."

"What?" I ask, stricken by the last bit of information.

Family? As in his family? His family wants to meet me? Why would they want to meet me? They do know about the circumstances of this, right?

"I know. I was surprised too when they asked. But you don't have to worry so much about their opinion since this is only .. temporary. ... They don't have to know anything about .. this," he answers my thoughts. This. That's how I address it too since I really don't know what else to call it, but hearing it from his mouth burns me a little bit.

"You haven't told them?"

He simply shakes his head, relief and confusion settling through me. I can tell from the disappointed frown he's giving me that he doesn't condone lying - especially to his own family.

I get it.

I hated lying too. I didn't understand why people did it. I praised honesty. I liked those who were blunt and straightforward.

But I lied to Harry ...

I lied to Harry about my intentions. Sex wasn't the objective. Truthfully, I don't even know what was my objective. Maybe I didn't even have one.

Why did I lie? In that moment, why didn't I tell him straight out that I was scared that I lost him? That the thought of losing him was unimaginable.

I lied because I didn't want him to know how I truly felt. I acted indifferent because I didn't want to be made a fool of ...

Imagine if the man you've fallen for sleeps with you, has seen you at your most vulnerable state, then abandons you the morning after.

No letter. No sign of returning. No nothing.

I lied to protect myself ... But why do I not feel any better?

The sound of knocking behind me breaks the trance of thoughts I'm in. My eyes instinctively flit to Harry's, silently asking if he heard it too. Though he doesn't confirm, I turn around, and look through the peephole to see that it's Chris.

What's he doing back here?

I feel hesitant opening the door with another pair of eyes behind me. Harry's going to misunderstand, I know it.

"You should probably leave," I whisper to Harry whose eyes widen. For a moment I think he's going to stand his ground and disobey my orders but his features soften, realizing that someone spotting him here wouldn't be such a great idea.

He pads quietly away, allowing me to greet Chris.

"Hey," I say, too lightly. I almost want to hit myself for it. "What are you doing back here?"

I step out onto the porch and close the door behind me, taking notice how dark the sky has grown.

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay," he says, his eyes peeking through the windows of the door, surveying for any sign that maybe something horrible is taking place. "It wouldn't be good on my conscience if I didn't come back to check on you."

"I'm okay," I murmur gently. I offer him a weak smile, lips pressed together.

"Okay, good." He sighs and pauses, an awkward silence lingering. "Because if your mother didn't believe you, I'll back you up," he adds. Like she'll believe a word he says. Chris has such a bad name around town. But I admit, he's not all bad. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure."

"I'm just worried."

"You don't have to be."

"Why wouldn't I be?" He's about to spit the events of what almost happened to me but keeps his mouth shut. He sighs again, out of frustration this time. "You're not letting me help you. So at least give me the liberty of being worried about you, alright? It's taking all the strength in me not to barge in and kill him right now."

I advise him that that wouldn't be a resourceful solution and he assures me he was exaggerating. His eyes tell me otherwise. Chris is a well-built guy. He is more than capable of mauling that monster with bruises and broken ribs.

But the thing that leaves me a little surprised is how he managed to fit the word 'liberty' in there somewhere. Chris, the troublemaker of the town, the kid who dropped out of high school, using the word 'liberty'? What has happened to him?

"Well, since you're still intact. I'll see you later."

"Bye." I watch his back as he goes down the steps and into the lawn regardless of the concrete path. I bite my bottom lip  ... "Chris!" I yell, causing him to turn around. "I'll return your shirt after I wash it!"

He chuckles and I see that rare smile again as he continues to walk backward into the car before waving goodbye.

When I get back inside, Harry's nowhere to be seen. Anxiety is thick in the air again and I find my mother cooking some sort of beef stew in the kitchen. First, I ask her where her husband is and she tells me that he had an urgent business trip suddenly.

Urgent business trip? I scoff in my head. How convenient for him. But I would be lying if I didn't say that I'm relieved to know he won't be around me the next few days.

"Where's Harry?"

"I'm not sure. I told him to make himself at home," she says.  "It's too bad your step-father isn't here. We could've gone on a double date or something."

A double date with my mother and that monster...the thought makes me want to vomit.

I almost spill what I want to tell her .. But something holds me back. If I tell her, she'll be heartbroken. She'll be so ... hurt.

I'll tell her later. When Harry's not here. And when that psycho of a 'step-father' is back and when the media is finally off my back, I'll tell her then ... I want to see that justice is served. Just not now.

The search for Harry Styles takes a short while. He wasn't in the backyard, nor living room, nor the bathroom. There wasn't many remaining options.

Don't tell me ...

My suspicion is confirmed as I open the door to my bedroom, his back facing me as he looks out the window. He has the audacity of coming into my room without my permission. I want to give him a piece of my mind but decide against it. I don't feel like arguing with him tonight.

"So you were with him the entire time?" He asks, not having yet turn around. He must have seen Chris drive off. A begrudging chuckle escapes his throat as he spins halfway, making his darkened gaze meet mine. His eyes are quite contradictory to his tone. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was somewhat disappointed seeing me with Chris. "Now it makes sense why you're wearing that."

By "that", he probably means Chris' t-shirt. It probably looks like Chris and I hooked up ... I need to clear this with him before he hates me any more.

"It's not what you think," I say. "We didn't-"

"You're quite the rule breaker, Elaine," he interrupts.

Rule breaker?

Right ... The conditions of the contract.

"I didn't tell him anything about this," I tell him. "He didn't even ask."

"Why was he with you?"

"It's .. hard to explain.  And why are you in here?"

"I mistook it for the bathroom," he answers flatly. I almost call out him on the obvious lie but he stalks off too quickly into the hallway before I can utter another word.