Secrets

I stab my fork into the food in front of me, my eyes unblinking and unfocused as I mope. My face is leaning on my fist, my elbow on top of the table in a decidedly unmannerly fashion, and I’m very aware that I must be making my cheek all red, but I don’t care. I don’t really care about much right now. I feel like shit because I didn’t communicate to Molly well enough that what happened isn’t her fault, and now she’s gone. And there’s no way I can find her because no one knows where she’s gone.

“Hazza,” Louis starts sadly as he slides into the seat in front of me. “You gotta eat something, mate. It’s been two days. You’re going to pass out on stage tonight if you don’t eat anything.”

“Good,” I grumble indignantly. “Then maybe Molly will get worried and come back to me.”

Before I know what’s happening, Louis reaches across the table and slaps me across the face. The first thing that strikes me is the sound, which cuts through the air like a gunshot. And then the pain settles in, and the whole left side of my face feels like it’s on fire.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I screech as my fingers snap up to touch the hurt area. It’s hot, and I just know that it’s deep red and angry-looking.

“You need to snap out of it, mate,” Louis demands, staring at me dead in the eyes. “Look, we’re all hurting because Molly left. She’s a wonderful girl. But you can’t stop living because she left. You lived before her, and you have to keep living after her.”

I open my mouth to try to say something, but Louis cuts me off, on a roll with what he’s saying.

“You weren’t present at all in the past couple of concerts. Our fans pay a lot of money to come to our concerts, and they don’t deserve having to put up with you checking backstage every ten seconds and squinting, trying to see her in the crowd. She’s not coming back, Harry. She left you. Now it’s time to deal with it and move on. You’re never quit like this over a girl before, and you sure as hell can’t start now.”

He’s right. Kind of. I mean, he voiced it kind of coarsely, but he’s right. No matter what I’m feeling, I shouldn’t hurt everyone around me by moping.

I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay. But don’t slap me again or I’ll switch your toothpaste with my acne cream.”

“Gross,” Louis laughs as he gets to his feet. “Alright, finish eating. And I swear to God that if I come out here again, and your steak is still untouched, I’ll kill you.”

I nod as he walks away, but right when he shuts the door behind him, my phone rings.

Dropping my fork onto my plate and pondering only for a second why I hadn’t gotten rid of it earlier, I reach into my pocket and draw out my phone to find an unfamiliar number.

“Hello?” I answer carefully. If a fan found out my number again, I’m going to throw a fit.

“Harry?” the male voice asks. “Harry Styles?”

“Um…maybe. Who’s asking?” Yeah, that’s discreet, Harry. Nice going.

“It’s Brendon.” The name doesn’t ring a bell right away, so I’m thankful when he follows up with, “Molly’s brother.”

My stomach lurches up into my chest, and I sit up straight in my chair. “Oh my God how is she doing is she okay did she say anything about me are you with her right now have you heard from her oh my God can you tell her that I’m panicking because I don’t know anything it’s driving me crazy.”

There’s a soft chuckle over the line. “Harry, breathe.” I follow his directions loudly, making sure that my obnoxious exhale goes right into the receiver. “Okay, now I want to tell you that Molly’s fine. She feels pretty shitty right now, but other than that, she’s okay.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “That’s fantastic. Is she there?”

“No. She just sent me an e-mail, and I figured she didn’t tell you anything, but you have a right to know.” There was a series of muffled sounds, and then Brendon’s voice was in the phone again. “Alright, parental duties call. I’ll call you if I know anything more, Harry.”

The line goes dead, but I keep the phone against my ear, trying to hear in the silence if anything else can give me a clue about Molly.

It doesn’t happen.

I give up after a few minutes and stuff my phone back into my pocket, going back to eating my now-cold steak.