Better for You

The previous two weeks had gone by without a word from Harry. Everything that we were thinking was openly portrayed through our glares at each other. Harry had been shoving me out of his way and shooting daggers into the back of my head for the past two weeks, and I had been no better. To be honest, we were acting childishly, but neither of us was prepared to give up our pride and talk to each other.

It's stupid really. I don't need Harry, we were never friends nor had I ever been close to him; I mean I had known him for what, 4 weeks? 3 of which had been spent ignoring him, so the fact that I was bothered by him was stupid.

Maybe it's because I know that he's hiding some story behind his haunting dark green eyes. Something about him had me hooked, I don't like him, but I want to know why he is the way he is. I'm a curious person, and mysterious people intrigued me, and that was what I was; intrigued.

I was planning to spend the day hanging around with Abby; however my mum had decided that she wanted to spend the day with me. The house that my parents had bought was around 30 minutes away, and so she picked me up at 10 am and took me to the house, showing me around. It was large and spacious which was unsurprising considering that both of my parents are heavily invested in their jobs.

My mum works for a clothing company in which she designs clothes for, hence why I get so many designer clothes. My father works high up in the accountancy sector for some huge American bank. My mum then showed me my room that she said that I could sleep in if ever needs be.

The room had a slanted ceiling with a window on it that had a thick ledge that could be used to sit on. The room wasn't too big actually; it was a nice size so that it didn't seem too big and empty nor too small and cramped.

I walked over and sat down on my comfortable bed, feeling the quilt in between my fingers, being reminded of home back in England. I missed England so much. I missed how it rained almost every day, how it would snow in the winter; but never on Christmas day. I missed the cool breeze and how my fingertips would freeze from its bitterness. I missed tea. I missed home.

Thinking of home made me fall back onto the bed and close my eyes, comparing America with England. I missed my friends from back home, I felt like I fitted in with them so well, and here I felt like an outsider. I loved Andy, Abby and the guys like family, but other than Andy I just couldn't relate to them. They just didn't quite understand me like my friends from back at home did.

I don't know how long I must have been lying like that for, but it must have been a while as I had dozed off. I awoke to my mother shaking my shoulder gently and telling me to come downstairs as my parents had set up a game of Monopoly.

Half way through the game I was somehow winning by quite some margin. My mum was almost bankrupt and my dad wasn't doing much better than my mum. "Your turn honey." My mum told me and I rolled the dice, getting a three, landing on a 'chance'. I picked up the card and grinned as it told me to collect £10 from each player. "This is so unfair." My mum groaned, folding her arms over her chest. "You've got to be cheating." She mumbled and I chuckled, looking at dad who laughed stiffly as he met my gaze.

After another hour or so of playing the tables had completely turned as my mother was now winning by quite some way and I only had £72 left! I rolled the dice and held my head in my hands as I had rolled a 2, landing on Mayfair, which my mum had put a hotel on. "Pay up!" My mum chimed and I glared at her as I stared at my money in my hands.

"Um, I don't think that you've got a hotel on your property." I told her and she furrowed her brows, her eyes flickering to the board.

"Yes I have, look, it's right the-" My mum began as I used my arm to brush everything on the board over. "No!" My mum complained, looking at me as I grinned childishly at her.

"What? I don't see a hotel!" I laughed, grinning and my mum narrowed her eyes at me playfully.

"Cheater!" She accused, pointing her index finger at me mockingly.

"Me?" I asked, faking innocence as I bought my hand to my chest. "I can't believe that you would accuse me of such a thing!" I told her, then bursting into giggles with her. My mum then sighed, and then began tidying up and so I started helping her while my dad sat there awkwardly before excusing himself.

I had pretended not to notice how my dad had been acting during the game, but I had. There was definite tension in the room. It wasn't always there; sometimes it was covered up by my mother and I's playfulness, but then as soon as the laughter left the room the tension sept back.

"I'm going to go upstairs for a bit." I excused myself before going upstairs, and into my room, flicking through boring things on my phone.

After around 15 minutes I heard shouting from downstairs and so leaned towards the wooden flooring, pressing my ear against the cold wood as I listened into my parent’s arguments. "You can't keep on using this against me Judy. How many times do I have to apologize?" My father shouted.

"Not enough. You're not even trying with us John, you're daughter has come to stay the day and you've been acting off for the entire time." My mother shouted back, and I could hear her slamming her hand down on the table.

"Right, because everything's my fault, isn't it?" My dad replied and my mother huffed.

"Why else is our marriage like it is right now?" My mum hissed.

"I'm tired of the same old arguments Judy. You either forgive me or you don't, and I don't think that you do." My dad replied, lowly and steadily as I heard footsteps walking, and then keys jingling.

"Fine, go and run away from your problems and get drunk like you always do." My mother spat and that was the end of their conversation as the front door slammed shut shortly after. Why were they fighting?

I know that their marriage had been on the rocks for quite some time. My father had started drinking too much, and my mother was having enough; but those fights weren't as bad as this. Even when they were fighting then you could tell that they still cared for each other, but this fight was different. It sounded defeated, like they were fighting because they knew that there was nothing left to fight for.

I had never been close with my father really. He was always at work or busy. Of course we had a relationship together, but I was in no way a 'daddy's girl'. Our relationship went downhill once he started drinking; I had mentally taken my mother's side, and felt sorry for her having to put up with my father's drunkenness. He would be rude to her, and after the night when he spat at her when she tried to take the whiskey from him, I never looked at him in the same way.

I had noticed that after that night my mum had become distant with him just like I had. My dad reacted to this distance the only way he knew how; alcohol. But when they'd fight then, despite the evident fury and anger, mum would fight my father because she wanted him to stop drinking as she cared about him. But now I don't even know why they were fighting.

I had always assumed that we'd moved to America as it would be a fresh start where my parents could move on from my father's drinking. However; apparently he hasn't stopped.

I was brought back into reality by the sound of my mother knocking on my door. "Come in." I called and she then appeared, walking over to me and sitting by me on my bed as she huffed.

"I know that you heard our fight and that you are probably wondering why we were fighting?" My mum asked and I sheepishly nodded my head, and my mother gave me a tight lipped smile. "We were once in-love you know; you're father and I. I was madly in-love with him, and as you know we married at the young age of 21. Then two years later we had you and we were still so in-love. But then two years ago I guess being so tied with a family and job and never really having a proper childhood really got to your father. As you know, this is when he started drinking, and things got worse when he began getting aggressive, and you know about that night he spat at me. Well, after then I became distant with him, leading him back to alcohol." My mother told me. This was the first time that she'd actually discussed my dad's drinking. However I wasn't going to question it as I wanted to know what happened.

"Then one night he didn't come home. He came back in the morning with messy hair and wearing the same clothes that he had gone out with. He stank of alcohol and cheap perfume and I realized that he's spent the night with someone else; that was when our relationship took a turn for the worst. We decided that if we wanted to move on from what he did then we’d have to move. So when the job offer in America came up of course we took it. But things haven't exactly gone well so far..." My mum told me, allowing the tears to fall down her face freely as I also did.

I then hugged my mum tightly whispering, "Oh mum, I'm so sorry." She sniffled, and then pulled away, forcing a smile onto her face.

"We'll be alright though, your father and I." My mum told me and I tried to smile at her but failed and
so just buried my head in the crook of her neck.

"I'm so, so sorry mum." I told her and she wrapped her arms around me and kissed the top of my head.

"It's alright; do you want me to drop you back off at your dorm?" My mum asked and I nodded against her neck before I pulled away.

"Yes please." I sniffled, and she smiled before getting up and walking out of my room. I quickly grabbed my stuff and followed her.

The car ride to the dorms had been quiet and filled with tension. I didn't really know what to say, I was still trying to digest the news. My father had been unfaithful to my mother. The thought of him being with some other than my mum bought a lump to my throat as more tears poured down my face.

Once we made it to the dorm I kissed my mum goodbye, promising to call her through my broken sobs. I watched her car drive away before I began walking up to the dorms, while receiving some weird looks. I must look a mess, a crying mess, with puffy eyes and red blotchy cheeks.

Once I made it to my dorm I could hear arguing, as I shakily grabbed the door handle and opening it to reveal a sight I never thought that I'd ever see. Harry and Abby looked to be in the midst of a deep argument. Once they heard me, both of their heads snapped in my direction; taking in my broken appearance.

I sniffed and gave Abby a tight smile before walking over to my bed and crawling into it and covering my face with my hands. "Izzy, what's the matter?" Abby asked warily and I heard two sets of footsteps walking towards my bed.

"Everything. Everything is messed up." I told them removing my hands from my face, and turning to face them. "I thought that I knew him. I didn't think that he'd ever do it." I sobbed, as more tears came running down my face at the thought of my father.

"Who? Mike?" Abby pushed and I shook my head 'no' as my answer, taking a deep breath.

"No, my father." I chocked and Abby and Harry's eyes both widened. I sighed, sitting up on my bed, with the covers over my legs, and wiped the tears from under my eyes with the pad of my thumb.

"What did he do?" Harry asked softly, sitting down on the edge of my bed. I stared at him, trying to decipher the emotion in his eyes. They looked to be sincere, but I had been fooled by them more than once already.

Harry seemed to pick up on my hesitance as he placed his hand on my leg in a comforting gesture and gifted me a soft smile. "You can tell me, I'm done with being a dick. I shouldn't have gone to Lucy and said what I said, and so for that I'm sorry." Harry apologized genuinely, and I looked to Abby then back to Harry and sighed.

"My father, he-" I began, stopping to take a deep breath as I flickered my eyes to my hands which were fiddling with each other in my lap. "He cheated on my mum." I told them, looking up to see their reactions. They both looked shocked, and sorry. Abby walked over to my side and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Izzy, I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through." Abby told me, and I bit my lip nodding, as I tried to hold back more tears.

"I just, I went to their house today, and I don't think that they've ever looked more distant. Abby, you know about my parent's arguments, but the way that I heard them arguing today; it was completely different. I could hear the distance in their voices, and I don't know if they're going to make it through this Abby. I really don't." I told them, more tears pricking my eyes and rushing down my face, as I tried to bury my face in my hands.

Harry's phone then went off in his pocket, and he picked it and, but must have clicked decline. "You can - take the call - if you want." I told Harry through my hiccups.
"Nah, it'll just be Zayn asking if I'm going to go to the party." Harry told me, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Oh yeah, you should probably go now if you wanna make it for the party." Abby told Harry, and I didn't question friendliness in her tone as I was too busy thinking about what would happen from here with regards to my family.

"No, it's fine. You go, I'll stay with Izzy." Harry replied, and my eyes would have popped out of my sockets if I wasn't stuck in this numb state.

"You sure? I can stay if you want." Abby asked, but Harry just shook his head no, with a soft expression. Abby gave him a tight lipped smile, kissed me on my cheek then left.

"You don't have to watch over me you know Harry, you can go to the party if you really want." I told Harry softly, but he looked at me like I was crazy.

"No, there's no way that I'm leaving you here alone. I know what pain can do to people when they go through it alone and I'm not going to let that happen to you." Harry told me, getting up and sitting right next to me.

His right knee touched mine, making fire ignite from there and allowing the warmth to spread through my body. "How do you know what pain does to people?" I asked quietly, and Harry tensed beside me.

"It doesn't matter." Harry replied quickly, shutting down my question the moment that it left my mouth, and I cursed myself for being so curious.

"Sorry, I was being nosey." I apologized and Harry shrugged his shoulders. "So, how come you and Abby were being friendly?" I asked, hoping that he took this as me being genuine and not jealous.

"She's not that bad to hang with I guess. She's really protective of you though!" Harry laughed and I chuckled, before the silence over took us. It wasn't an awkward silence though; we were both just deep in thought.

The silence was exactly what I needed to clear my head. I felt so bad for my mother having to put up with my father alone. He had never gone as far as to hitting her, but he still hurt her. Every twisted insult that came from his drunken mind hurt my mother who had tried to battle alone, trying to save the both of them.

"My sister." Harry suddenly spoke, after a few minutes of silence.

"What?" I asked confused, looking to Harry who had a hard expression on his face, as he stared
ahead into the wall about 15 ft from where we were sitting on my bed.

"How I know what pain does to people; it's because of my sister.” Harry began in a shaky voice, pausing for a second to gain composure, then continuing, “When I was fourteen and she was sixteen my parents split. I didn't take the news well, and hung out with the wrong crowd. But Gemma; she was completely different. She was so distant; she isolated herself from the world. She didn't say a word; hardly spoke unless she had to. She hid herself away in the security of her room." Harry answered, and I looked at him sincerely, hoping that he'd continue down this road.

Whenever I had been around him he had been guarded, with walls soaring up into the sky, and this was the first time that he had put them down, and given me a glance into his life. "I saw her less and less. If I ever wanted to see her I'd have to go to her room. She'd either be lying on her bed or sitting by the window, and would have this look in her eyes of emptiness. She was numb. And then one time I came home and looked in her room, only she wasn't there. I panicked and looked all over the house for her. I couldn't find her, so I assumed that maybe she’d gone out for what would have been the first time in 2 months. But then later that evening I went outside in the garden; and there she was; lying stone cold on the ground with blood pooling around her head. I called the ambulance quickly, and they got here fast, but they couldn't save her. Everything was a blur, and I was no longer dealing with separated parents but also a dead sister." Harry told me, a single tear trailing down his face.

I stared at him, taking in everything he had told me. I doubt that he was this honest to many people, and I felt privileged to know his story. I can't even imagine what it must have felt like; yes my parents are going through a very rough patch, but Harry's parents split entirely. And then he had a dead sister. How horrible must that be, to come home and find your sister lying cold on the ground?

"That's why I don't want you to go through this alone. I don't know if I could manage another death like that." Harry confessed, and I smiled at him softly, wrapping my arms around Harry. He must not be used to people showing affection towards him like this, as he noticeably tensed up as soon as my arms wrapped around him, but after a few moments he moulded into my arms. "Please promise me that you won't do what she did." Harry whispered quietly.

"I promise." I agreed, and gave Harry a tight squeeze before pulling away to look at Harry. He looked to be pretty upset about going on this trip down memory lane, but I felt honoured, also feeling glad that I had opened up to him as well. Maybe he was changing into the guy that I so wanted him to be?