June 10
HARRY
My eyes were down at my phone, my thumbs tapping on the small keypad. I was hunched low in my seat, my head dipped down out of view. I could hear nothing around me beyond the blaring music from my ear buds, streaming from my phone as I texted Liam.
Liam: You coming tonight?
Me: yeah, soon
Liam: hurry the fuck up.
Me: piss off, I'm almost home
I turned my attention out the window at my side, the rain casting long, distorted lines along the glass. It altered the view of the outside, what little of it I could see in the dark. All I could make out was the faint outline of trees, illuminated only partially from the headlights of the car. It had been a long, boring, mind numbing day, and I just wanted to get the fuck home. I honestly didn't even want to meet up with my mates, but I guess I should. I hadn't seen them much this week.
I nodded my head in time with the music, my hand tapping on my thigh. The smooth ride of the car made it feel as if we were gliding through the trees. We were on a quiet back road, winding through the hills. I had gone along this route before on my bike, the steep incline a good workout, but the best part was the ride down. Flying through the curves, never knowing what was around the next corner. Many of the corners were blind, and you would have to slow. Of course, I didn't.
I was lost in my own little world, my mind drifting to Chelsea Parker, wondering if she would be at Liam's tonight. Fuck, she was hot. Hands down the hottest girl we knew. She had been flirting with me a bit over the last few weeks, but I had been playing it cool. Louis told me not to seem too eager. Not that he knew anything, the prat. But the advice sounded fair.
A sharp slap to the side of my leg caught my attention, bringing me back to the now. Turning my head to the other side, I pulled an ear bud from my ear.
"Did you even hear me?" my father asked, glancing at me momentarily. His eyes returned quickly to the road in front of him, his hands on the wheel. I could faintly hear the sounds of the wipers on the windshield, flicking back and forth a mile a minute against the downpour of rain.
"What?"
"You need to do the garbage tonight when we get home," he said, his head angled only slightly in my direction. "You were supposed to do it yesterday."
I rolled my eyes, nodding.
"Harry,"
"I heard you," I groaned, popping my music back into my ear to drown out his annoying drone. Turning back to the passing world, I lost myself again in the music.
A sudden jolt startled me, my hands flying outward to my sides. One sprawled over the empty seat beside me, the other gripping the handle of the door. My eyes moved back to my father quickly, his own wide. His hands were ripped onto the wheel tightly as the car swerved, sharply twisting. I could see my fathers lips form a curse, but the sound was drowned out still by the blaring music in my ears.
I could see headlights ahead of us, the blinding white light illuminating my fathers face. The car spun, losing traction with the road thanks to the slick rain. I moved my gaze to my mother, who I was seated behind. I couldn't see her clearly, her body blocked from my view by the seat. I could see the curve of her hair, the strands lit from the headlights that seemed aimed right at us. Her arm was clutching the door just as I was, her other had shooting out to grab my fathers leg.
I didn't even have a chance to move, when I felt the impact, heard the crunch of metal, and everything went black.
I jolted in my bed, my entire body seizing in a quick jerking motion as I startled awake. My eyes were immediately wide, taking in the dimly lit, quiet surroundings of my room. My hands were clutching the sheets, just as they had been against the interior of the car in my dream. I was soaked through with sweat, my naked torso sheened with perspiration. My hair stuck to my forehead, my breathing rapid and frightened.
Jesus Christ.
I took a deep breath, my eyes closing again for a moment. Unfortunately, the edges of the dream were still clinging to the backs of my eyes, slow to fade. I opened them again quickly, shuttering a breath, as I pushed myself up into a seated position within my bed. My legs splayed around in front of me, covered by my sheets. My comforter seemed to have been long ago kicked away in my thrashing.
Rubbing my hands over my face, I could still hear my heartbeat in my ears.
Fucking hell. I hadn't had a nightmare in a long time. When was the last time I woke like this? Probably a month or two. It was the longest I had gone without the nocturnal reminder of that night haunting my dreams, since it had happened.
I had realized that only a few weeks before, that it had been such a long time since I woke from a nightmare. They were always the same, or at least a variation of the same. Different scenes from my jarred and dented memory. I didn't remember much of that night consciously, but it seemed that my unconscious remembered much more than I allowed myself to recognize while awake.
Hanging my tired head low, my hands falling into my lap, I sighed.
I knew more or less when they had stopped. Right around the time I had started falling for Lane. Or at least admitting to myself that she wasn't just some girl, in my life to pry and use me as a psychological science project. She was my distraction during the day, my solace in my anger and anxiety. And in turn, she had turned into my savoir at night, without ever knowing it.
I had thought they were gone for good, since our relationship and my feelings both seemed to progress. Of course, my feelings were leaps and bounds beyond where we were in terms of relational status, but I had hopes that we would get there. I had considered various ways to bring it up, the topic of us, without seeming like a fucking girl wanting to have 'the talk'. But I did want to know where her mind was, and what she felt about me. I hadn't been so concerned before, but since seeing that Abercrombie and Bitch fucker giving her the eyes, I wanted to at least find out where I stood. And if need be, tell her everything I had been too afraid to say. All the things I had never wanted to say to anyone before her.
I glanced at my clock. It was after six in the morning. It was now Saturday, and I didn't have any real plans for my day. Pathetic, I know.
I had made a few friends at the office, casual chatter with the other interns on life at the bottom of the proverbial totem pole, where we were all from, what we thought of the books we had reviewed. It was a little fraternity of sorts, the intern group. We were like the tadpoles in the pond, always having to watch for what may come. We were always being observed, both our work and our actions within the organization. It was unsettling always being under the eyes of others, especially when those eyes usually belonged to the over zealous Christina. At least when it came to me.
My mention of Lane a couple of weeks before had set her back for a while, and I was thankful. She didn't seek me out anymore, pop in to my space, or give me eyes any time I passed her office. It was nice to be able to go to the elevator and head down for lunch without the fear of her attacking me in a 50 Shades of Grey remake moment.
Unfortunately, it was a short lived reprieve, and by the following Monday, her appetite for me seemed to be back on track. Delivering my fourth manuscript to review, she laughed at the stupidest things, her own little quips, touching my shoulder in a flirtatious manner. I had tensed under her hand, but she either didn't notice, or didn't care.
She left me alone after a moment, her hips swaying more than natural for my benefit.
Groan.
Laying back into my bed, my back was met with the cool dampness left over on my sheets from my perspiration and fitful awakening. I frowned, aggravated at the return of my nightmares. Why the fuck were they back? I had finally been sleeping, restful and uninterrupted.
My frown only deepened when I realized the probable cause.
Lane.
It had been almost a week since I had last heard from her. She had sent me a couple emails, the last being this past Tuesday. But no calls, no Skype, and nothing since. It annoyed me, this silence, and obviously affected me more than just in the natural 'missing my girl' kind of way.
I wondered what she was doing, and if she was alright. It was about four in the afternoon there now, so she was probably still busy.
Things had been going so well. We were talking, and flirting, and seemingly....together. What happened? What did I do wrong?
I huffed in annoyance as my own words echoed in my head.
'I will be in full working order when you get home'
Fucking idiot, I was. I probably scared her off, being such a perv. Of course, I had thought much more erotic and crass terms for what I wanted to do to her over recent months, but I held my tongue. She was so easily embarrassed, and it was such a turn on to get her flustered. Unfortunately, I couldn't help but wonder if my little slip had made her wary.
Maybe she didn't want to be with me after all. Maybe, as flirtatious and playful as we were together, as intensely as I felt towards her, she didn't feel the same. It was a notion I had thought of intermittently in recent days, and it only resulted in souring my mood.
Knowing I was no where near going back to sleep, despite the early morning and long, empty day ahead, I slid out from between my sheets. Running my hands through my hair, I turned to my dresser to pull out some sweats. May as well go for a run. I needed a distraction from her, and now, my dream.
As I dressed, I steadied my nerves. I needed to talk to her. And if she wasn't going to reach out to me, then I would have to be the one to come to her. I would email her after my run, and try and urge a conversation.
I needed to talk to her. Both in general, and with regards to us. And soon, because I was going bat shit insane without her.