"Can't you see oh can't you see
What that woman, she been doin' to me"
***
I'm paralyzed again.
I just keep looking back and forth between my mother and Harry, wishing I could shrink away and hide under my bed.
I hate that I feel like this around her.
I watch my mother's personality flip like a switch, to a bright friendly smile and it honestly makes my skin crawl. Because I know it's fake.
She's not happy to meet him, she just wants to know why he's here.
She just wants to know what I'm doing.
I'm grappling between embarrassment that he is standing in my room half naked, and ashamed that he's actually meeting her.
I don't exactly have a mother I'm proud to introduce to people.
The way she's treated herself all these years has weathered her and it shows, even though she's only 55, you'd swear she looks over 70.
She's wearing her usual slippers, tights and crinkled over sized button up shirt that hangs on her frail frame; her short salt and pepper hair is carelessly brushed and when she smiles it's obvious from the worn creases on her face and dull teeth that she's drank and smoked majority of her life.
My mother looks between us, expecting an answer and I don't miss Harry glancing at me with a look I can't make out, but I don't have the time to make sense of it.
This is what I was worried about, these are the parts of my life I never want anyone to know about.
"I'm Drews friend, Harry - You must be her mum. It's nice to meet you"
Harrys tone is polite and cordial, but it lacks the warmth I'm use to from him and I can't figure out why. He just gives her a smile; and starts to tug on his T-shirt over his head.
I don't know how to feel about it, but part of me wants to kiss him all over again out of relief; just because he didn't say anything to make this more awkward for me.
I don't know if he did it on purpose but I appreciate it.
"He's Frankies cousin" I blurt, for some reason feeling like I owe an extra explanation.
I always feel like I have to explain myself to her.
It's one of the things I try and work on with therapy... among the other clusterfuck of things I need to sort out.
But that anxiety, that stomach churning anxiety that ripples through my whole body and up my throat is the worst part, it's that feeling you get when you lean back in a chair and you think you're going to fall.
It won't go away.
The constant hyper vigilance is exhausting.
"Oh well it's nice to meet you Harry! I'm Sharon" she says with a cheerfulness I know is all too fake, it's all an act for strangers "Drew never brings her friends over" she pouts with an accusing look at me but then her brows shoot up in excitement when she looks back to Harry "You should come over tonight for dinner"
You wanna tell him why I've never brought friends over mum? Even as a kid? Or are we just gonna gloss right over that like you always do?
I clench my teeth, not out of frustration but it's just a reaction to the stress going on in my body.
Harry glances at me again, like he's observing my reaction but I dont understand why, then he clears his throat and shakes his head with a smile "Sorry I can't tonight, I've got plans - but thank you for the offer"
Mum keeps up her act with a dramatic pout and wave of her hand "Oh that's too bad. Well you're welcome here any time, I'm always telling Drew she should spend more time with friends"
No you're not. You never say that to me.
And this is my fucking house, stop giving people open invitations.
...Not that smirky doesn't just turn up when he feels like it anyway.
"I'll bring your tablets into your room mum" I cut in, just wanting to get this situation over with as soon as possible "Harry really needs to go - he's running late already"
Harry gives me another quick look with his brows pinching together but doesn't say anything and just nods in agreement.
I can tell by the smile on mum's face, the way it doesn't reach her eyes that she's hiding her annoyance that I'm dismissing her.
I kind of am, kinda not. I just want this conversation to be over but her prying nature will have her irritated with me that I barely introduced her, or not fussing over her.
"Oh did Harry stay here last night?" She asks, not moving from the doorway and I start to tense my fingernails against my palms for some kind of relief from my distress that's only building.
She isn't asking to just be curious.
My mother is like a filing system, she collects information to weaponise and use against me when she gets the opportunity.
Or she just wants gossip to twist and run her own narrative with to whoever will listen, it's one or the other.
She's being nice to Harry now, but I can only imagine the awful things she would say the second his back is turned.
The stress in my body has my brain shorting out while I scramble for an answer, but Harrys voice pipes up as he tugs his jacket on "Yeah - Drew kept me company and let me come over and watch movies. I moved here not long ago and don't have many friends here yet. It got late and I fell asleep on the couch"
My eyes dart to Harry with my brows dropped in confusion. Why is he lying for me?
"Oh that sounds like Drew" Mum praises, but not looking at me "Just how I raised her, always helping or taking care of everyone - so you're from England?"
That's it, take the credit like you always do.
The only good things about me are simply because you put them there, not just because I'm a nice person or anything.
I'm not good.
You just did a good job at raising a bad kid.
"Yeah, she's really lovely - and yeah I am, the accent usually tips people off" Harry agrees, he sounds completely earnest which makes my stomach twist but his eyes are searching around the floor for what I assume are his shoes; judging by his bare feet.
He's making it obvious he doesn't want to continue on a conversation and normally that would seem rude I guess but somehow he's making it sound polite.
Maybe it's the accent.
Everything sounds polite in that fucking accent.
"They're in the loungeroom" I speak up, making him flick his eyes to my face with a look like he's momentarily confused so I add "Your shoes"
His lips pull into a faint smile, and he points at me "Mind reader and life saver"
Don't give me all the credit smirky, you're barefoot.
"Well I'll leave you two to it, I'll be in my room - bring those tablets in soon Drew I'm in a lot of pain. It was nice meeting Harry, come around for a drink some time"
And that just made my stomach drop. God I'm so embarrassed.
I can already tell from the tone in my mother's voice she was laying on the pain part thick, which I'm sure she was just gagging for Harry to ask what was wrong with her... Or it was just to make me feel guilty.
The invitation for him to come around and drink already has my stomach knotting in dread, more than it already was from how awkward this whole fucking interaction is.
I hate that her invitation isn't even genuine, she doesn't want to get to know Harry. She wants a drinking buddy or an excuse to drink and she will suss out anyone she meets to try and get that.
It's exhausting being around someone who's intentions are always cloaked in alterior motives you have to decipher; because if you don't and you take them for face value, you'll either end up very hurt or very disappointed.
Gotta know where to keep those expectations.
I don't even notice I've zoned out again, because when I look up Harry is standing in front of me with shoes on and Mum isn't in the doorway any more.
Great now she's gonna think I ignored her and be even more pissed at me.
"You tuned in again or you still on a different channel?" He asks, watching me with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets.
"Huh?"
He bends over, pulling his hands from his pockets to rest them on my knees so he's at my eye level from where I'm sat on the bed "You disappeared again"
He gestures his chin up, like he's indicating to my head with a curious squint of his eyes "Where do you go off to in there anyway?"
I find it odd that he sounds interested about the fact I just check the fuck out, most people have just found it annoying or gotten angry at me over it.
I shrug my shoulders, looking down to his hands on my legs "Its just a bad habit"
"Way to not answer my question" he teases, giving my legs a gentle squeeze before standing up straight "I do have to get going though - walk me to the front door?"
I give him a strange look, pulling my face back "Why do you want me to walk you to the door?"
His face drops into a comical offended expression as he holds his hand to his chest "Because I'm a lady, and you don't just get to see me naked and then kick me out like some cheap hooker"
God I hate that I find him fucking cute.
I can't help smiling at him, and I don't like it. It feels uncomfortable because it's a genuine smile, and I barely remember what those feel like.
But he just has this habit of dragging it out of me.
I push myself up to stand, and tap my finger against his nose "Awe ofcourse you aren't a cheap hooker - You were a free hooker"
Harry scrunches his nose up, swatting my hand away and I laugh under my breath as I turn to start to walk put of the bedroom.
We get to the loungeroom and Harry waves at Gizmo on the couch "Bye Gizzy - we can go on a bacon date soon"
Gizmo just grunts, and shuffles on the couch to turn his back to Harry and I snicker to myself. Gizmo holds grudges, Harry has some serious groveling to do before Gizmo is giving him those love eyes again.
That was the first night he hasn't slept in my room since I've had him, he's even pissed at me.
"See even he thinks youre a hooker"
"I'm a lady dammit" he snips, and I can literally hear him sticking his nose up in the air from the tone of his voice as he follows me.
"Tell that to my shower" I grin to myself but keep my voice quiet so only he can hear me, feeling him hover close behind me as we walk to the front door "I'm sure it thinks you're a whore too"
Harry huffs, reaching around me to grab handle as we reach the front door; opening it and shoving me out of it before closing it behind him.
What the hell are you-
"I'll have you know masturbation is perfectly healthy" he scolds, but I can see him fighting a smile as he adds " which you should know, you've been its number one fan for a couple years now"
"Oh screw you smirky" I huff, throwing my arm out to point at the front door with an incredulous expression to ask why the hell he pushed me out of it but he cuts in.
"We've been over this love, I'm dying for you to"
There's that smirk again.
He points to the door to clarify my question I didn't get to verbalize "And I brought us out here because I didn't think you'd want your mother to hear me talking about jerking off in your shower just before while you watched - and enjoyed it"
I smack my hands against my face, groaning "So you thought my fucking neighbours should hear it instead?"
"What?"
I drop my hands, glaring at him and point next door and he turns his head to see my petite elderly neighbour watering her flower garden a few feet from us and he freezes. She's watching us frozen with wide eyes as she holds the hose in the one spot while it starts to drown her gardenias.
I keep my eyes on Harry, but wave in her direction; raising my voice "Morning Mrs. Fullerton"
"Morning dear!" She sings out startled, clearing her throat and starts humming as she keeps watering the same place, trying to act like she didn't hear anything but staying in hopes she'll hear more.
Mrs. Fullerton is harmless, she lives alone - Well, alone with several cats and is fairly obsessive with her gardening - she does it every single morning.
She's very nosey, and loves her gossip which she loves to tell me about even more but it's in a very endearing almost comical way. Its not with the same malicious intent that my mother has.
I think she just gets lonely, and I get that - I know how it feels.
She's given me home made cookies before, so basically that means I'd die for her and will protect her at all costs.
Harry drags his eyes back to me with his brows lifted and round eyes, pausing at me glaring daggers at him before the laugh he was holding back blows through his lips and he hunches over cackling to himself.
... I'm glad one of us finds this funny.
How am I meant to look Mrs.Fullerton in the eye after this?
Harry coughs into his fist as he stands straight, his eyes creased in the corners from how large he's smiling "I'm sorry - I shouldn't laugh. I'll make it better I promise"
I press my lips together, and he gives me an apologetic look before turning his face to Mrs. Fullerton again who is still pretending to water the same poor patch of flooded flowers with loud off tune humming.
"You know voyeurism is perfectly natural and healthy aswe-"
I smack my hand over his mouth, grabbing his shoulder and yanking him towards me; hissing at him "I'm going to kill you smirky, I swear to god"
He's just grinning against my hand, watching my face with his eyes lit up with mischevious amusement and I hate that now I have this confusing feeling around him, where I don't know whether to slap him or kiss him.
He pulls my hand from his mouth, as he practically giggles to himself "You're cute when you're all pissy like that, it's kinda hot. Threaten me some more and maybe we can sneak back inside and go for a round two"
I drop my hands by my sides, pinching my eyes shut and taking a deep breath.
Don't slap him.
Or kiss him.
"Look smirky" I sigh, opening my eyes to see him hovering close to my face and I take a step back with my shoulders hitting the door "I can't keep doing this with you. I can't have you just turning up at my front door any more - okay?"
My mother coming home was like a reality check slap in the face, and it's the reason I keep people far away from my bullshit.
I'd be mortified if he just showed up on one of her bad days, or worse - seen me on one of my bad days. If he thought that morning I screamed when he was in my bed was bad, he hasn't seen shit yet. It's best if I just put a stop to this before it gets more complicated.
His expression becomes serious, with his brows dropping and he glances his eyes to my mouth, before fixing his gaze back on mine again.
"Okay" he agrees, with a faint nod.
I give him a suspicious squint "Okay?"
"Okay" he nods again, pressing his hand next to my head against the door as he watches my face and I feel like shrinking back.
This is too easy. He shouldn't be agreeing to this so easily.
"That's it? You're not going to ask why? Argue about it?"
His free hand goes to rest on my hip, and he dips his face closer "I'm sure you've got your reasons - you'll tell me when you feel like it. I trust you"
Hang on, what? He trusts me? Why - How?
I'm trying to stay focused on being firm about this, but I'm getting to distracted by his damn mouth being so close to mine.
It's making my heart leap into my throat again.
His light eyes dart between mine, and he wets his lips while his voice gets quiet "I really do need to get going though, anything you want before I go?"
"Not that I can think of" I squeak, my breathing picking up when he nudges his nose against mine.
"You sure?"
"Yep"
He smiles to himself, and moves his lips to press a kiss to the tip of my nose "That's too bad, I had fun though. Thanks for the movie night"
"No problem" I wheeze, feeling my chest tighten.
Christ he can't keep doing this. All of this intense fuckboy voodoo shit is stressing out my already shot to shit nervous system.
He moves his mouth to my ear, murmuring in a slow voice "And thanks for letting me get you off, it's all I'm gonna think about"
If he keeps this up I'm gonna tell Mrs. Fullerton to turn the hose on him.
I'm clenching my jaw again, trying not to give away how much of a flustered idiot he had me turning into, within a few seconds.
Fuckboy magic.
Harry pulls back, giving me a once over and looking pleased with himself and he starts to walk backwards; a slow cheeky grin pulling on his face "Catch you around heart breaker"
He slides his hands into the pockets of his tight jeans, hooking his thumbs over the outside; raising and dropping his brows before turning on his heel and strolling towards his car parked on the road out the front of my house.
I know that damn look.
And it means nothing but trouble.
I watch Harry climb into his car, still hearing Mrs. Fullertons humming, until I hear a voice yell from inside that has my body flinching.
"Drew!"
... I have a feeling its going to be one of those nights.
***