Control (a Harry Styles fanfic)

Chapter 15

Charlie's Point Of View:

"What?!"  He practically yelled.  "He's in jail?!"  I almost laughed at the shocked look on his face, but I didn't.  I had never had to tell anyone about my dad before because everyone just kind of knew.  When we were in America we lived in a small town.  My dad's arrest was one of the most "exciting" things that happened around there in a long time.  His story was the headline of every paper, it was on every TV, it was the topic of conversation in every bar.  There was no way to keep it a secret.  I hadn't even realized that no one would know here, not even Harry.  I was just so used to everyone seeing me and thinking either "that poor girl's dad is in jail," or "that freak's whole family must be fucked up."

"Yeah."  I said, like it didn't even effect me because letting this one event hurt me, yet again would be too hard.  I had spent years crying over my dad, and I didn't anymore.  I didn't want to start again.  "He got arrested in May when I was 15."  I explained, like I was stating facts on someone I hadn't even met.  Like I had no emotional investment in the situation.

"Um" Harry mumbled quietly, "for what?"  His voice was barely above a whisper.  It was like he was tip toeing around the question because if he asked too loudly or too quickly I would shatter into a million pieces.  And the truth was, I probably would.

"Well," I sighed, I had told the story before, I could do it again, "he started gambling when we moved.  We lost a lot of money.  A lot.  He had been lending people money to make bets, and they weren't paying him back.  I don't really know what happened next, I guess he snapped.  The next thing I knew my dad was on trial for…for murder."   I whispered the disgusting word because I still couldn't believe it myself.  "I never really understood how needing money from someone could escalate to…to that, but I never asked.  I never wanted to know."  I mumbled.  This was the part I didn't tell people.  Officer after officer, lawyer after lawyer, judge after judge, they all wanted to know the story, and I told them that.  I never had to tell them how it felt to look at your father and see the kind of man you were always supposed to be afraid of.  No one ever wanted to know, and that was ok.  Because I never wanted anyone to.

"I…I can't believe that."  He whispered, clearly still trying to process everything.

"I couldn't either.  I still can't."  I sighed, looking down and feeling completely ashamed of my family again as I intertwined my fingers with each other to keep my gaze away from Harry's.  "Even when I overheard him talking about it, planning it, on the phone, even when I found a loaded gun in his desk drawer, even when he came home after I was asleep and left before I woke up every single day, even when he confessed, I never believed it."  I admitted, realizing I was getting choked up again.  I wouldn't cry, though.  I had been making myself hold back these tears for so long that I didn't even know how to cry anymore.  Like always, I swallowed the lump in my throat and blinked away the tears.

"Wow."  Harry finally said quietly.  "I'm so sorry."  To be honest I was kind of surprised to hear him say that.  I had heard so many people say they were sorry.  It made me hate them.  My few friends, my teachers, my moms co-workers, those people were sorry.  I was sick of everyone feeling so fucking sorry for me.  I wanted to think that someone so close to me would have more to say.

"Everyone is sorry."  I sighed, not hiding my disappointment in what he said.  I had always been good at hiding my emotions, but not from Harry.

"No, that's not what I meant."  He explained.  "Don't get me wrong, I am sorry about your dad and everything but that's not what I meant.  I meant I am so sorry I wasn't there for you.  I should've-"

"You already apologized for that, Harry."  I cut him off.  I wanted to move forward from the time we spent away from each other, not keep going back to it, no matter how much I appreciated how bad he felt.