Status: layout by chasing carousels;
You Found Me
But in the End, Everyone Ends Up Alone
Give a little time to me or burn this out
We’ll play hide and seek to turn this around.
All I want is the taste that your lips allow.
My my, my my oh, give me love.
Keeping my eyes still shut, I groped around the table for my phone, desperate to stop the sound that had aroused me from my sleep.
But I couldn’t find the damn thing.
“Shut up,” I groaned in a croaky voice, still half-asleep.
Ed Sheeran, instead of listening, just started his song again from the beginning of the snippet.
Finally, I got my hand around my phone and opened my eyes to slits so I could find the answer button. I put it to my ear and ran a hand through my hair, closing my eyes again. “Hello?” I garbled like my mouth was full of marbles.
“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Jenny screamed at me, startling me into a sitting position.
The sudden jerk gave me head rush, sending blotches and fuzziness through my vision. Once it subsided, I responded, “What?” even though I’d heard her perfectly.
“You are SO fucking lucky, you know,” she snapped at me. “I was just getting ready to go over your house and wake you up when your dad called my house and asked if he could speak with you.”
My heart stopped beating for about ten years. Or maybe it was a second. It definitely felt like ten years, though. “Oh my God,” I breathed, slapping a hand over my mouth.
“Don’t worry,” Jenny scoffed. “I covered for you, since I figured you must be someplace fabulous. I told him you were still sleeping, and I thanked him for being so understanding about you coming over. And he said, ‘Oh, no problem, Jenny. Good luck with your, uh...emergency. As if he was saying, 'Oh, good luck with that Chlamyida'.”
I burst out laughing, an explosive sound punctuated with a snort. “Oh my God, Jenny. My dad does not think you have Chlamydia.”
“Who has Chlamydia?” Harry’s voice mumbled drowsily.
I started, having forgotten that he was on the other side of the couch. He looked so innocent and confused, his eyes narrowed as he ran his hand through his curls.
“No one,” I assured him. After thinking for a moment, I corrected, “Actually, no, not no one. There are people in the world with Chlamydia. I just don’t know them.”
Harry opened his mouth to say something else, but I nudged him with my foot to keep him from speaking. So, instead, he got up and went into the kitchen, soon followed by the sound of a coffee maker revving to life.
“LEIGH,” Jenny scolded, breaking through my short calmness.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “What was that?”
“I said, ‘Tell me right now where you are.’ Because there better be a good reason for the fact I just almost had a heart attack. Like, ‘you banged Ed Sheeran’ good.”
“I didn’t bang anyone,” I responded automatically.
From the other room, there was a snicker, and I suddenly became very aware that Harry was listening in on the conversation. Blushing up a storm, I hurried down the hallway and hid in the bathroom, hoping that the walls were thick enough to contain the conversation.
“I didn’t bang anyone,” I repeated.
“Then it’s already not good enough to cover for you,” Jenny sighed. “I was so hoping you’d done something crazy.”
“I kind of did,” I mumbled.
I could almost see her ears perk up. “I’m listening.”
I took a deep breath before telling her the whole story: how Harry had snuck me out in the middle of the night, how he made me coffee to keep me awake, his fake plan, the intense making out, and even how he took a picture of the two of us.
Once I finished, there was the world’s longest silence. I didn’t know if it was good or bad.
Finally, after my hair turned gray and my face started to sprout wrinkles, Jenny breathed, “Leigh…Annabella…Petty. Oh my God, you are such a fucking badass.”
I snickered. “I’m totally not a badass.”
“You are, though.” There was the squeaking of a bed, and then her voice was a little faster, more rushed. “I never thought in a million, trillion years that you would sneak out of your house in the dead of night. Especially not with a boy. And you definitely wouldn’t sleep over his house afterward. With that steamy make-out session? Oh, girl. He’s making you the rebel-iest of rebels.”
I flushed and laughed lightly. “Oh my lord, Jenny,” was all I could think to say.
“No, seriously!” she insisted. “I don’t even recognize you anymore. But I do have a question. Why didn’t you have sex with him?”
“Jenny!” I scolded.
“I’m just wondering. I mean, you did already do it with Jared, right? So what’s the hold up?”
“I was with Jared for almost six months before I had sex with him,” I reminded her. “I’ve known Harry for a week.”
“Yeah, but the first time is over with. If you like him, go for it.”
“Are you trying to turn me into a slut or something? Can’t I just keep my morals without you lecturing me on losing them?”
“Probably not,” she replied frankly. “Wait, where are you right now?”
“In the bathroom,” I answered.
“What?! No! Hang up right now and go out there and schmooze with that boy. And then call me when you get home with all the details.”
“But-”
“NOW.”
And with that, the line went dead, leaving me alone in Harry’s bathroom. Which was actually furnished quite nicely, I noticed, with the light blue rug and toilet cozy and Rubber Ducky shower curtains.
“Did you pick out those decorations?” I joked as I entered the kitchen, where Harry was leaning over some kind of electric griddle, his hand over the top, trying to see if it was hot.
Harry turned to me and laughed. “No. Definitely not. Rubber ducks aren’t really my style.”
“Funny,” I commented drily as I pulled myself up onto the counter, letting my feet dangle over the side. “You definitely looked like a rubber ducky kind of guy.”
He turned to me long enough for me to catch his eye roll before turning back to the griddle. “Do you like anything in your pancakes?” he asked. “I think we have chocolate chips, blueberries, bananas…”
I made a face and shook my head. “Uh, no. I like my pancakes plain, thanks.”
“You’re boring,” he said simply before going into the fridge on his left. “I definitely want some blueberries.”
“Put blueberries in my pancakes, and you’re dead, Styles.”
“Is that a threat?” he questioned with raised eyebrows, turning to shoot me an amused look.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t make me have to show you just how much of a threat it is.”
We’ll play hide and seek to turn this around.
All I want is the taste that your lips allow.
My my, my my oh, give me love.
Keeping my eyes still shut, I groped around the table for my phone, desperate to stop the sound that had aroused me from my sleep.
But I couldn’t find the damn thing.
“Shut up,” I groaned in a croaky voice, still half-asleep.
Ed Sheeran, instead of listening, just started his song again from the beginning of the snippet.
Finally, I got my hand around my phone and opened my eyes to slits so I could find the answer button. I put it to my ear and ran a hand through my hair, closing my eyes again. “Hello?” I garbled like my mouth was full of marbles.
“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” Jenny screamed at me, startling me into a sitting position.
The sudden jerk gave me head rush, sending blotches and fuzziness through my vision. Once it subsided, I responded, “What?” even though I’d heard her perfectly.
“You are SO fucking lucky, you know,” she snapped at me. “I was just getting ready to go over your house and wake you up when your dad called my house and asked if he could speak with you.”
My heart stopped beating for about ten years. Or maybe it was a second. It definitely felt like ten years, though. “Oh my God,” I breathed, slapping a hand over my mouth.
“Don’t worry,” Jenny scoffed. “I covered for you, since I figured you must be someplace fabulous. I told him you were still sleeping, and I thanked him for being so understanding about you coming over. And he said, ‘Oh, no problem, Jenny. Good luck with your, uh...emergency. As if he was saying, 'Oh, good luck with that Chlamyida'.”
I burst out laughing, an explosive sound punctuated with a snort. “Oh my God, Jenny. My dad does not think you have Chlamydia.”
“Who has Chlamydia?” Harry’s voice mumbled drowsily.
I started, having forgotten that he was on the other side of the couch. He looked so innocent and confused, his eyes narrowed as he ran his hand through his curls.
“No one,” I assured him. After thinking for a moment, I corrected, “Actually, no, not no one. There are people in the world with Chlamydia. I just don’t know them.”
Harry opened his mouth to say something else, but I nudged him with my foot to keep him from speaking. So, instead, he got up and went into the kitchen, soon followed by the sound of a coffee maker revving to life.
“LEIGH,” Jenny scolded, breaking through my short calmness.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “What was that?”
“I said, ‘Tell me right now where you are.’ Because there better be a good reason for the fact I just almost had a heart attack. Like, ‘you banged Ed Sheeran’ good.”
“I didn’t bang anyone,” I responded automatically.
From the other room, there was a snicker, and I suddenly became very aware that Harry was listening in on the conversation. Blushing up a storm, I hurried down the hallway and hid in the bathroom, hoping that the walls were thick enough to contain the conversation.
“I didn’t bang anyone,” I repeated.
“Then it’s already not good enough to cover for you,” Jenny sighed. “I was so hoping you’d done something crazy.”
“I kind of did,” I mumbled.
I could almost see her ears perk up. “I’m listening.”
I took a deep breath before telling her the whole story: how Harry had snuck me out in the middle of the night, how he made me coffee to keep me awake, his fake plan, the intense making out, and even how he took a picture of the two of us.
Once I finished, there was the world’s longest silence. I didn’t know if it was good or bad.
Finally, after my hair turned gray and my face started to sprout wrinkles, Jenny breathed, “Leigh…Annabella…Petty. Oh my God, you are such a fucking badass.”
I snickered. “I’m totally not a badass.”
“You are, though.” There was the squeaking of a bed, and then her voice was a little faster, more rushed. “I never thought in a million, trillion years that you would sneak out of your house in the dead of night. Especially not with a boy. And you definitely wouldn’t sleep over his house afterward. With that steamy make-out session? Oh, girl. He’s making you the rebel-iest of rebels.”
I flushed and laughed lightly. “Oh my lord, Jenny,” was all I could think to say.
“No, seriously!” she insisted. “I don’t even recognize you anymore. But I do have a question. Why didn’t you have sex with him?”
“Jenny!” I scolded.
“I’m just wondering. I mean, you did already do it with Jared, right? So what’s the hold up?”
“I was with Jared for almost six months before I had sex with him,” I reminded her. “I’ve known Harry for a week.”
“Yeah, but the first time is over with. If you like him, go for it.”
“Are you trying to turn me into a slut or something? Can’t I just keep my morals without you lecturing me on losing them?”
“Probably not,” she replied frankly. “Wait, where are you right now?”
“In the bathroom,” I answered.
“What?! No! Hang up right now and go out there and schmooze with that boy. And then call me when you get home with all the details.”
“But-”
“NOW.”
And with that, the line went dead, leaving me alone in Harry’s bathroom. Which was actually furnished quite nicely, I noticed, with the light blue rug and toilet cozy and Rubber Ducky shower curtains.
“Did you pick out those decorations?” I joked as I entered the kitchen, where Harry was leaning over some kind of electric griddle, his hand over the top, trying to see if it was hot.
Harry turned to me and laughed. “No. Definitely not. Rubber ducks aren’t really my style.”
“Funny,” I commented drily as I pulled myself up onto the counter, letting my feet dangle over the side. “You definitely looked like a rubber ducky kind of guy.”
He turned to me long enough for me to catch his eye roll before turning back to the griddle. “Do you like anything in your pancakes?” he asked. “I think we have chocolate chips, blueberries, bananas…”
I made a face and shook my head. “Uh, no. I like my pancakes plain, thanks.”
“You’re boring,” he said simply before going into the fridge on his left. “I definitely want some blueberries.”
“Put blueberries in my pancakes, and you’re dead, Styles.”
“Is that a threat?” he questioned with raised eyebrows, turning to shoot me an amused look.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t make me have to show you just how much of a threat it is.”
♠ ♠ ♠
Alright, guys, I'm massively sorry about the late update. My computer keeled over, which I might have shared last time, but I didn't have anything to replace it. My mother's old laptop is not usable at all. So my father gave me this laptop to use temporarily, but it might not last long. This means that updates might have to happen once a week instead of a few times a week, like they usually are. I'm thinking about asking for a laptop for Christmas, though, so then things would go back to normal. But I just don't think I'll be able to update on my new tablet. Hopefully, I'll be able to write, though.And there's my spiel. Anyone who read that, I commend you. Hahaha.
Okay, so bbrox asked me to post what Leigh looks like, and I couldn't find an exact match. HOWEVER, I figured that I could show you a gist.
This is what Leigh's face looks like (though Leigh's nose is a little smaller and pointier):
Leigh's face
And this is Leigh's hair (except blonder, 'cause her hair is more of a dirty blonde):
Leigh's hair