Breathe

It seemed like everyone around me was walking on eggshells, like I was suddenly too delicate and fragile. Not that I saw many people or ventured out of my room much beyond going to class, even though I ended up missing a day or two, anyway, simply because I could hardly get out of bed. I would have missed more since the idea of doing any sort of work after what happened seemed daunting and pointless, but I realized that wasn’t a wise decision when finals were within a week or so. Timing was not my friend at the moment -- hadn’t been for a while.

It was mostly just Liv, Layla and Zoe because they’re all I saw anymore, which was nice and comforting. They mostly felt helpless because they couldn’t do much other than sit and talk to me about it, which I appreciated, but after a while I sort of wanted to be left alone.

Regardless, Liv checked up on me everyday, but it made sense since she lived with me and saw how depressed I was all the time. Layla, on the other hand, drove over every night from London Met to ask me how I was doing and brought all my favorite takeaway dishes to binge on. Zoe, for the most part, stuck with texting me and asking how I was feeling since she had personal studies and priorities to take care. It was a little weird for Zoe because she’d known Harry much longer and probably felt a bit awkward being stuck in the middle despite understanding my point of view. Not that there were sides to be chosen in this because I was always on Harry’s side and would continue to be.

The day it had all gone down, though, I wasn’t even sure how to explain everything that happened due to disbelief and without having a minor panic attack, so I had hoped that it would fall into its own when I saw my friends. However, when I had come home, I found the flat empty and was partly relieved and partly upset. I was sorely stuck between wanting to be comforted without having to properly talk about it yet and wanting to be left all alone to be consumed by my thoughts until it ate me away inside and I cracked.

Liv came home late that night, probably because she was at the library doing revision, and knocked on my bedroom door to find me lying in my bed with the lights off. She knew right away that something was off and asked me in that calm, loving voice hers what happened. I immediately started to cry, telling her in choked sobs and ragged breaths everything that had happened since my fight with Harry. Liv let me cry for hours, stroking her soft hands through my hair until I fell asleep with my head on her lap. Shortly after, she filled in the other girls as well and they arrived the next morning. The four of us somehow fit on my bed like a pile of puppies, cuddling together until it started to feel less like there wasn’t a lodge in my throat or a gap in my heart.

People always say that the best people in life were free. There was always giving, but you got a lot in return as well. I felt so incredibly lucky to have some of the best friends in the world who understood me and didn’t judge things that I so badly felt shame for. Given the hectic time with their schedules, they still stuck around for me until I felt close to okay again. On top of that, when I asked to not talk about it anymore, they respected that, too. I just didn’t have anything else to say because every time I did, all it would do was bring about waves of guilt and remorse in me. Everything I had to say, I’d said already, and I started to feel like a broken record that was stuck on the same few words. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I was just upset, I know I’m to blame and I love him so much.

And although we didn’t speak about it, I was constantly thinking about it. Every small corner and spot in my room reminded me of Harry and the time we spent in there. Everything I did, owned, saw, smelled and heard reminded me of Harry because he never left my mind. I somehow found a way to connect him to everything around me because he was so present in my life -- until now. That much I couldn't control nor could I ignore -- and I was okay with it.

What I wasn’t okay with was the silence. It had been four days since Harry and I had last seen each other and the truth about Josh came out. After Harry asked me to leave, I did just that, but for some reason, some naive, hopeful part of me was waiting for and wanting Harry to reach out after he’d cooled his head. But he didn’t. It was radio silence and the more I tried to pretend like he wasn’t ignoring me and that he just needed more time, the more I started to wonder what that meant for us. It was a thought I didn’t even want to touch upon because of what it could mean, because thinking about it made it so much more real and I didn’t feel ready.

I never felt ready for anything these days because it all seemed to be going in a direction that I could have never imagined.



“How’ve you been feeling?” Layla asked on Wednesday, walking through our front door with her spare key and rushing straight over to me where I was sat on the sofa.

She bent down giving me a kiss on my head and hugged me tightly. I gave her a meek smile in response, hugging her back. “I’m okay. You?” I asked.

“Tired,” she sighed, slumping down beside me. “My professors have been loading on the final papers so it doesn't coincide with the finals and quite frankly, I don’t want to do them. I’m so bloody burned out and tired from this semester. It needs to end -- like yesterday.”

“Senioritis got to you, too?” Liv asked, coming out of the kitchen with a cuppa in her hand.

“Big time,” Layla responded with an exaggerated pout. “What about you lot? Anything new?”

I shook my head slowly, not having much to offer since my days were pretty bleak, and watched as Liv and Layla exchanged a look between themselves as though they were being discreet. I raised an eyebrow, giving them a knowing look, basically asking them to just come out and say it because they weren’t as conspicuous as they thought. Liv let out an exasperated cry at being caught and threw her hand up in the air, walking over to sit with us. “We’re just worried, Blair. Do you blame us? We just want you to be okay.”

“Don’t blame you at all,” I replied back. “I just don’t know what to say because there hasn’t been much to talk about since Saturday. Harry’s not speaking to me -- so there’s that if you wanted to know.” I let out a hysterical laugh. “I don’t even know if that means we’re broken up or what.”

The moment I said it something seized in my chest, like ice clenching onto my heart, and I looked at my two best friends with my expression crumpling. Thinking about it in the back of my mind subconsciously was one thing, but actually saying it was another. Liv and Layla looked helpless, like they didn’t know what to say or do to actually help me. And that was the thing -- no one could do or say anything to save this. Not unless by some miracle Harry called me up now and told me it was fine, which I highly doubted at this rate. So, what did that mean? What did this silence fucking mean?  

“Oh, Blair,” Liv said softly.

“Oh my god,” I whispered almost in disbelief as my own words echoed back to me over and over like a chant in my head. “Do you think we’re broken up? Do you think this is over?”

“We don’t know,” Layla said. “He can’t break up with you without saying it to you -- it doesn’t work like that. This is more like in a fight, yeah? Don’t be disheartened.”

“Harry hasn’t spoken to me in four days,” I said to her.

“Give him time,” Liv insisted, with wide earnest eyes. “Harry just needs time. He’s probably at home in the same state as you and is just thinking. Give him as much time as he needs as long as that means you get him back.”

“I don’t want to wait anymore. I don’t know if I even can. I feel like everyday it just keeps building up and I can’t sit around and not know. I need to know.”

“Do you think you’ll feel better by knowing?” Layla asked me quietly while playing with her chipped nail varnish. “Knowing makes it more final, I think.”

“Probably not, no,” I shook my head after pausing to think for a moment. “It’s just hard. All I want is to turn back time and do something different. Make sure I didn’t end up where I was or where I am right now. I just want Harry back.”

“He’s still yours, Blair,” Liv said. “Harry’s crazy about you.”

I laughed humorlessly, wiping at my eyes weakly when I felt myself tearing up. “Harry’s not crazy about me anymore. I was terrible to him -- he never deserved that.”

“You messed up once,” Liv countered. “You weren’t terrible to him before.”

“Yeah, I know I only messed up once, but it was a pretty big one.” I let out a sigh, running my hands through my hair. “I just want to know what Harry’s thinking about -- what he wants to do. I know he’s mad at me, but I wish he’d yell at me some more and get out with it, you know? The silent treatment is just driving me mad if anything. I almost want him to make me pay for what I did and then take me back, just to let me know that I won’t lose him. So I know where we stand.”

Layla nodded understandingly, taking my hand in hers and holding it close. “I tried to speak to Niall about it to get an idea as to what’s happening on their end. The two of us went on a double date with Zayn and Zoe, so I brought it up.”

“What did they say?” Liv asked curiously with a furrow in her brows.

“Zoe got a bit uncomfortable when I brought it up in front of them. She wasn’t really saying anything and was just looking down at her drink. Zayn and Niall got super defensive and guarded, like they didn’t want to talk about it either, but they were more angry about it.”

“That’s not surprising or new. I knew they were mad at me,” I said matter of factly. The two girls turned to me with confused frowns and I nodded my head in confirmation. “None of them have so much so reached out to me since I saw them that day. I’m pretty sure Harry told them what happened, or they got a gist of it when Josh outed us. So, I’m assuming they’re all pissed.”

“That’s so stupid, though,” Liv said, a frown cutting through her expression. “Layla and I aren’t picking sides, like we understand Harry’s side of things. So, why are they picking sides? Nobody has to do that.”

“I don’t know,” I said with an exhausted and tired shrug. “It’s probably just that you lot know me better than they do. You know I wouldn’t do something like that on purpose or with intent. They don’t know that -- they probably think I’m a cheating bitch and scum for hurting their best mate. Like, I get it. I’d be mad at me, too.” Liv and Layla didn’t look convinced and still a bit annoyed, but didn’t push it further because they knew just as much as I did that this was a messy situation and that there wasn’t much to be done otherwise. “I mean if anything I feel guilty for being responsible for fucking things up between the group. The dynamic’s all ruined because of me.”

“Okay,” Liv said firmly speaking up. “I need you to stop putting all the blame on yourself. I get that you fucked up, I told you that you did, but so did Harry to an extent. He’s got a bit of blame in here, too. He was hiding certain things, he walked out. And don’t even get me started on fucking Josh. He fucked up the most.”

“When I see that fucker, I’m going to kill him,” Layla seethed. “Disgusting arse cock. Dirty little cunt. Mother fucking ugly monger.”

Someone had clearly been picking up insults from Niall.

“I started it, though,” I said to them grimly. “It just feels like it all sort of exploded on us -- like everything that could go wrong went wrong in that one day. And now I don’t know what to do. Am I meant to see Harry and reach out or do I wait?”

“Maybe you’ll see him at senior cookout,” Liv suggested. “Everyone’s going and it’s the day after tomorrow. Harry will have had plenty of time to cool off by then and I’m sure you can talk to him.”

I drew my knees up to my chest and rested my chin over them. “I wasn’t going to go, actually. I was just going to stay at home.”

“What?” Liv asked shrilly. “Why?”

“Kind of embarrassed, to be honest,” I replied meekly. “And don’t really feel up to socializing with anyone let alone the entire senior class.”

Liv and Layla gaped at me comically, their mouths hanging open and eyes wide in surprise. “Are you joking?” Liv asked. “You’re not going to the senior cookout?”

I shook my head resolutely. “No.”

“That’s so stupid, Blair,” Liv cried. “You’re a bloody senior -- you’ve had a long year and you deserve to go out there and have fun with your mates. I don’t think I know anyone who’s more excited to graduate than you are, so why would you want to miss out on the festivities now that it’s finally here? It makes no sense.”

“Yes, it makes sense,” I argued. “I’m not happy right now and I’m not excited about graduating anymore. Not after everything that has happened. I don’t wanna go out and party with everyone when I’m feeling so fucked up inside -- I can barely make it to class on a day to day basis, let alone this. And like I said, I’m embarrassed. Josh humiliated me in front of the entire frat. I can’t face them -- not this soon.”

“And why is it that you have to stay home and be embarrassed for what’s happened?” Layla asked me fiercely. “Because you messed up and you’re the girl? Why can’t it be Josh for taking advantage of a girl who was in a relationship with his frat brother? Why can’t it be Harry? Why do you have to hide yourself? It shouldn’t be that way at all. You should be allowed to go and have fun.”

“Layla’s right, Blair,” Liv agreed. “I know you’re upset and you don’t feel like doing anything, but you’ve been waiting for this for a long time. This could help take your mind off of it. If those boys get to go then so do you. You should come with me and Zoe and have fun. Fuck those boys. Fuck boys altogether -- who needs them?”

“You would say that,” Layla smirked like she just made the greatest joke. It worked because it warranted an unexpected laugh from me. The other two looked at me for a moment before bursting out laughing, too.

Liv looked embarrassed for the most part, her cheeks flushed. “Shut up.”

Layla ignored her, turning to look at me with bright, mischievous eyes. “Has she told you what happened with Dylan?” I shook my head and Layla widened her eyes gleefully before saying, “They kissed!”

“What?” I cried turning to look at a crimson Liv. “You two kissed and you hadn’t told me?”

“It only happened, like, yesterday,” Liv insisted. “It wasn’t that big of a deal and I know you’re not in the mood as of lately. I just wanted to be sensitive.”

“Doesn’t mean you don’t tell me about this!” I told her. “I need a change of topic other than my sad love life, so any and all stories like that are welcome. But, anyways, how was it? Give me details!”

Liv grinned, her cheeks pink and warm. “It was nice. I liked it a lot...rather different than kissing a boy, but also not really. She tasted better, to be honest. We were outside our building and saying goodbye and Dylan just did it. It was quick, but good.”

I grinned genuinely for the first time in a few days at the baby steps that Liv was making. “What does this mean? Where do you two stand now?”

“Not sure,” Liv shrugged. “Since we’re graduating, I don’t know if a relationship is a good idea, but I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“So...you’d want a girlfriend?” Layla asked.

Liv nodded albeit shyly. “Hoping for more progress during senior cookout because she kept insisting we hang out.” Liv turned to look at me with a firm expression. “So that means you have to go because I can’t do this alone.”

I gave her a small smile, contemplating the possibility of that. “We’ll see.”



After standing by the front door for a half hour, fully dressed and ready to go and struggling to decide as to whether or not going to the senior cookout would be a good idea, I finally decided to attend after all.   

It felt silly to not go and hide myself away at home, I had thought to myself. Liv and Layla both proved great points and I kept reminding myself of that on the walk over. Mostly, though, I wanted to go to see Harry. He still hadn’t reached out to me and despite agreeing to give him time, I realized I was impatient and I missed him. I missed talking to Harry and seeing his face, so I succumbed in the end and decided I should end up going. I wasn’t sure if he’d be up for talking about anything serious during the event, but I wanted to be optimistic. I wanted to walk out of there tonight knowing where we were. If anything, we didn’t have to talk about anything at all right away -- we could just have a good time and discuss things later on. As long as I got to see him.  

When I got there, I saw that Queen’s Lawn was decked out with graduation decorations. Colorful balloons, streamers with our school colors, and a big sign that said You Made It in big letters were strewn across the lawn from tree trunk to tree trunk. The entire senior class was crowded around the lawn, air smelling like grills and sausages and cheap beer. Off on the side towards the center, a small stage was propped up where a ton of people were gathered to see the musical acts. A lot of them were hired small town bands or singers and several of them were people in the graduating class who volunteered to do a small set from what I’d gathered from Liv. Currently, a duo was up there, a boy and a girl. The boy was playing the guitar while the girl was crooning out the lyrics to “Wonderwall” by Oasis. It was sweet and I couldn’t help but already feel better.  

Liv was right in saying that a change in atmosphere could be good for me. I pulled out my phone, texting her to ask where she was before wandering about on my own. When she finally texted me back, responding to the question, I wove my way through the crowd, halting my steps when I realized who she was with.

Standing in front of me was the entirety of Theta Chi, decked out in their red and white OX tank tops and matching snapbacks. I normally would have laughed at their cheesy pride, but I suddenly felt myself closing in. It wasn’t a surprise that Liv would be hanging out with the frats and sororities, but a warning would have been nice. The last time I’d seen most of these boys, Josh was calling me out for having sex with him (even if it was for a second) and I’d caused a definite rift between two of their brothers. I was sure I wasn’t their favorite person right now no matter how much time I spent with them before. It was awkward and I almost felt mad at Liv for leading me here. She probably didn’t realize, too caught up in having fun, but still.

I quickly turned around, about to leave when someone grabbed my arm. I turned around, my heart in my throat, expecting it to be one of the guys, but it was only Dylan.

“Hey, you,” she smiled brightly. “Where you off to?”

I smiled weakly, finding myself at a loss for words. “Um, nowhere, just. Yeah.”

“Liv’s been looking for you,” she said ignoring my sudden lack of vocabulary, tugging my arm back towards where I was initially headed. I almost pulled my arm back to run, but the deeper I got in, the more I noticed that everyone was kinda doing their own thing. No one was even looking over at me and I started to feel myself relax a bit. I was making this out to be about myself way too much. Or maybe they hadn’t noticed yet. Either way, I was here and I couldn’t run anymore. I’d look pathetic.

Dylan stopped in front of Liv, who was sat with Ed and Zoe. The three of them looked up and smiled at me, even Ed, which I was a bit surprised about. “Hi, babe,” Liv smiled sweetly, getting up to hug me. “You made it! I’m so proud of you.”

I let out a small chuckle. “Got dressed and stood by the door for thirty minutes before I could gather up the courage to do so.”

“I’m glad,” Liv said, pulling back and giving me another smile. “Come sit. We’re waiting for Zayn to bring us back food.”

I plopped myself down right between Ed and Liv, giving Zoe a wave, which she returned. Liv put a protective arm around me as I looked over at Ed on my other side. “Ed...what’s the good word?”

“Poppin,” Ed smiled. “Real good, actually. A bit nervous because I’m going to be performing today.”

“Oh, really?” I smiled excitedly. “That sounds great. What are you singing?”

“A few originals and a few covers, too.”

“Ed’s a proper artist now,” Zoe said, teasingly. “He’s got originals and everything.”

“Shut up,” Ed blushed, looking down at the bottle of beer in his hand. “I’m alright. Don’t expect anything major when I’m up there.”

“Even if you suck, I’ll be screaming at the top of my lungs for you,” I promised. “Don’t you worry about disappointing us.”

Ed laughed, shaking his head in disbelief and amusement. While the four of us chatted, Zayn strolled back with plates full of food for everyone. Zayn raised his eyebrows when seeing me, his expression unreadable. I waited patiently for him to say something as he passed the plates around, handing one to everyone before going over to sit beside Zoe.

I tried not to frown or let my expression give me away, but ouch. I didn’t expect much from Zayn, however, I’d be lying if I said that that didn’t sting. He didn’t say a single word to me. I knew Zayn was a man of few words, but a hello would have been nice. Ed didn’t have a problem talking to me, so what was Zayn’s deal? Then again, I suppose he was closer to Harry than Ed was. Ed didn’t have an obligation to dislike me like Zayn did. This was all suddenly feeling a bit childish, honestly.

Despite that, I didn’t say or do anything. The others weren’t making a big deal out of it, but Liv did shoot me another encouraging smile, which meant she probably noticed. She shared her sausages and chips with me, the two of us eating off of the same plate while she included me in her conversation with Dylan.

When a good half hour passed, I was starting to grow more and more curious as to where Harry might be. I hadn’t caught a glimpse of him once, but that wasn’t as surprising since I hadn’t actively sought him out. I was a bit scared to, paranoid about what would happen if I did, but now that I was feeling a lot better, I wanted to see him. I was close to asking Ed a few times where Harry was, but kept chickening out. My eyes darted around the lawn, looking for that familiar head of sweet, brown curls when I finally saw him a mere few feet away when I really looked. Harry was standing by a large tree with a few guys, including Louis, Liam and Niall, drinking from a bottle of beer and laughing about something.  

It was the first time in days that I was seeing him and something in me settled. It wasn’t much because the fact still remained that we weren’t speaking, but it made me feel content. He looked happy for what it was worth and really good, too, which lifted my hopes up by a small fraction that maybe this could go okay. Maybe I could talk to him while he was in this happy, cheerful mood and he could tell me that he’d been meaning to reach out to me, but was confused just like I was. Maybe things could be okay again. And Harry looked so good, too. Red was a really good color on him. I almost wanted to go up there and just kiss him like I could have had it been a week ago.

There was something different about him, though. Harry was louder than usual, more talkative, animated and energetic. It took me another moment to realize it was because he was pissed drunk. Harry never got like this unless he had a few drinks in him. His eyes were shinier and his lips were pink and wet, like he’d been licking over them too much. When he moved away from the spot where he’d been leaning on a tree for support, he couldn’t even walk in a straight line, which made me frown in concern. The cookout barely started two hours ago and he was already sloshed out of his mind. None of the others seemed as much concerned, but maybe because Harry seemed to be in such good spirits that they didn’t want to ruin it for him.

Harry staggered a few feet away to the drinks area, grabbing another beer, uncapping it and taking a swig with his fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle. His eyes were scanning over the crowd with a slight furrow in his brows and I started to feel myself panic, looking away in an effort to appear busy or distracted, but it was hard. My eyes kept darting over to check to see if he’d spotted me yet, but since his sunglasses were on, I couldn’t tell for sure.  

It was seemingly clear when Harry did spot me, though, because his body froze with his lips still wrapped around the bottle. A deep frown settled over Harry’s features as he stopped drinking, staring at me from where he was standing. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I stayed put, maintaining eye contact with him. It was unsettling because I couldn’t remember a time when Harry and I had been so strained and fucked up that I didn’t know whether or not I could talk to him. It was a hard pill to swallow when I looked at the whole picture and realized so much had changed. We’d never fought -- not like this -- and I hated it.

I had never, not once while knowing Harry this past year, ever felt intimidated by his presence. He was always welcoming and kind and so fucking wonderful. Right then, though, all I wanted was to cower away and hide somewhere because he looked so angry and put off just because I was there -- at a school event, no less -- where I was a student and had every right to be. It almost felt like I’d ruined his day by showing my face and that he was happy and okay when I wasn’t here.

It wasn’t a good feeling. I’d never seen him be rude or hostile to anyone -- well except for last week and now. He eventually turned away from me, swearing under his breath before chugging the rest of his drink down. Once done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and reached for another.  

“Oi,” Liam said to him with a laugh, despite the concern etched on his face. “Slow down, mate. You do want to be able to walk, don’t you?”

“Fuck it,” Harry called back, his eyes shooting over to me really quick. “Need to be really drunk for this one.”

“Harry--.”

“--I said, fuck it, Liam!”

Liam sighed, not saying anything more while Harry didn’t even seem apologetic for yelling. He continued to chug his beer down, reaching for another and when I saw Liam look over at me, probably noticing me for the first time as well, I looked away from them, feeling the warm burn on my cheeks. Ed must have noticed as he turned to look at me. “You alright?” he asked quietly since the boys were speaking distance, trying to meet my eyes.

I gave him a short, humorless laugh. “What do you think?” I asked. “Harry hates me. He wants to get drunk so he can forget I’m here. He can’t be around me sober...didn’t you hear?”

“Blair,” Ed said frustratedly. “Of course he cares about you. What happened last week just -- it fucked him up. You don’t understand.”

“You know I do. I don’t blame him, but I didn’t expect that.” My voice was shaking and I felt like I was on the brink of tearing up and crying again. I didn’t want to, of course, not when I was out here in front of the entire senior class and everyone was out to have a good time. I took a deep breath, composing myself and schooling my features to something more neutral.

Ed understood that the topic was still a bit touchy, so he simply put an arm around me. I let myself melt into his embrace, purposefully not trying to look over at Harry anymore. Ed and I talked after that about plans for when we graduated, mostly to get my mind off of Harry drunkenly screaming nonsense in the background. Ed told me how he got an internship at a record label and while that would require him to do a lot of bitch work for free, he was willing if only to get his foot into the industry. Along with that, he also wanted to do some gigs at pubs and small venues to see if he could garner some attention and gauge out whether or not people liked him.

The conversation reminded me once again that we were less than a month from graduating and everyone sort of had a plan as to what they were doing. And then there was me -- the only one who was actually once excited about graduating and getting out of there -- who didn’t have a plan or anything, really. I’d have to fix up my CV, scope out companies to apply to, figure out living arrangements, and so many other things. Just the thought of it made me feel nothing but tired and all I wanted was to not bother and go to sleep.

I wasn’t ready for this to all be over. I didn’t want to leave here with Harry hating me or being on bad terms with some of my friends or ending one of the best years of my life on a bad note. If this was how it was all going to go down, then I refused to let it end this way. I wanted to fix this even if it meant putting myself out there.

“Liv,” I said, turning to face her. “Mind coming up with me to get something to drink?”

Liv was just about to nod when she looked over by the drinks and spotted Harry downing his beer. She quirked an eyebrow at me curiously. “Uh -- you sure?”

I licked my lips feeling them dry up with how nervous I was and gave a shrug. “I think so, yeah.” When I turned to look back at Harry, talking to a few of the guys, I started to feel nervous again. “Urm, maybe we can all go in a group? I think that would be easier.”

“Sure,” Liv nodded. She looked back to Dylan to ask her to come with while I asked Ed, who easily agreed. I would ask Zayn and Zoe, but I felt weird doing so when they weren’t really talking to me. One obstacle at a time, though.

The four of us made our way over to the drinks area, which was pretty busy. Students were shuffling back and forth to get a bottle or two before going back to their spot. At first, Harry didn’t notice I was there. He wasn’t laughing with his friends anymore, instead, looking like he was deep in thought despite being surrounded by everyone. I grabbed a beer, dwindling by the sides and hoping he’d see me.  

It just seemed silly that I felt like I couldn’t approach him or say something. We weren’t broken up. He couldn’t break up with me without saying it and he hadn’t. This was more like a fight as Layla said and he was still my boyfriend, so I could go over to him if I wanted. The only thing stopping me from doing so was the fact that he wasn’t making a move to do the same. He hadn’t spoken to me at all in days and that was the saddest part of it all -- his silence. But maybe I was meant to make the first move. I was the one that did mess up and maybe he was waiting for me to come over and talk to him.

I searched for Ed, Liv and Dylan, spotting them standing off on the side with their drinks and talking to someone they knew. I could go over and join them instead of awkwardly standing about and obsessing over Harry, but I knew that even if I went there, I’d still be obsessing over Harry. It was a no brainer and since I was here and I’d made it this far, I owed it to myself to just do it. Just get it over with otherwise I’d go mad.

With a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching me -- which they weren’t -- I ventured out towards Harry while giving myself internal pep talks and taking rather large, deep breaths. When I was close, approaching him with slow steps, he spotted me. My heart rate picked up, making me want to almost turn around and go back to where the others were, but I didn’t. I locked eyes with Harry, hoping he’d see the desperation behind my eyes.

Instead, Harry froze, lips parted in surprise. His sunglasses were lifted to sit on top of his hair so I could see his eyes and the dark bruise circling one of them from the fight. There was a brief moment where I felt like he was okay -- that we could talk because he didn’t look as angry anymore. But then he swiftly changed his expression into something more disinterested. “Mates, let’s go get another drink, yeah?” Harry asked his friends, keeping his gaze locked on mine before turning around and leading them back to the coolers.

I frowned at the spot where he was previously stood feeling like I’d just been slapped by something cold and sharp. It didn’t occur to me that he’d just ignore me if I approached him. The worst I expected was him not being as nice or something, but not that. Completely taken aback and not at all what I expected, I turned around myself.

I bypassed my friends and found a spot by myself on the grass near the back where a few kids were smoking and lying about on the grass. If only there was a way to teleport myself back home and under the covers where it wouldn’t feel so fucked up, then I’d be okay because right now I felt anything but. I felt hurt, upset and for some odd reason like I didn’t belong there.

What Harry did was off putting and almost uncalled for. He saw me -- I knew he did because he wasn’t wearing his stupid sunglasses -- and just walked away. If he refused to speak to me and in retrospect not be with me anymore, then he could tell me. Harry didn’t have to bypass me or avoid me in public because I deserved more than that. After all we’d been through and all that we were to each other, I deserved more than that even if he didn’t think so.

Liv and Ed found me deep in thought a while after with my face scrunched up and frowning. Ed waved a hand in front of my face to snap me out of it before sitting down beside me. “Why the long face, Gallagher?” he asked. “What’s got you in a pout?”

I tried to ease the frown on my face as Liv sat down beside me, looking at me just as curiously as Ed, but it felt fruitless. I felt like fucking shit. “Harry just ignored me,” I told them, sucking in the corner of my lip into my mouth, hoping it didn’t sound as pathetic as it was. “I walked up to him to, I don’t know, chat, I guess. And he walked away. Just fucking ignored me like I mean nothing to him.”

“What the fuck,” Liv breathed out in an almost disbelief. I could relate.

Ed didn’t look as phased or bothered, though. “I wouldn’t worry about that. He’s doing it now to be a dick because he’s hurt and upset, but he cares about you.”

“That’s a funny way to show that he cares about me,” I said scoffing. “Harry doesn’t give a fuck. He’s out there getting pissed drunk and being obnoxious.”

“Blair,” Ed said carefully with a small smile on his lips. “If Harry had a drink for every fuck he gave about you, he’d be drunk for life.”

I stared at Ed in surprise, speechless as his words sent a surge of hope up my spine. Despite the fact that I knew it was silly to have any hope at this point, it was all I wanted -- any indication that Harry and I’d be okay and that this was just a rough patch. Ed gave me another smile before tipping his head back to drink from his bottle. I faced forward again thoughtfully, playing with the tips of my sandals, rubbing over the purple nail varnish I’d painted on my toes. Aside from the hope, I wanted to believe what Ed said -- in fact, I wanted to know it. Harry and I were best friends and we were so in love and together that it seemed almost crazy to think he’d suddenly stop caring about me after a mere few days.

When it came time for Ed to go up on stage and do his fifteen minute set, Liv and I grabbed our drinks and headed towards the stage, joining the large crowd. I tried not to actively look for Harry to see if he’d come around to see Ed sing and instead tried to focus on Ed getting his guitar tuned and ready to play. It worked well for the most part, but it grew harder when I could actually hear Harry speaking because he was so loud.

“When the fuck is Ed on?” I heard him shouting. “Ed, start fucking singing, mate.” Harry followed that with a loud cackling laugh that I’d grown to love, but right now it seemed almost unpleasant.

Eventually, curiosity got the best of me and I casually looked around to spot him, noticing that he was only a few feet away, stood with all the boys. There were a couple of sorority girls with them as well, but none of them seemed to be around Harry and mostly just with the other guys. Harry was too busy, fixated upon the stage and trying to look over all the people to see Ed, who’d just started strumming his guitar to the tune a Ke$ha song, which was typical.

Despite the good music and my initial plan to see Ed perform, I couldn’t tear my eyes off of Harry. I let myself really look at him without fearing that he’d look back or I’d get caught. It was safe with all the people around us since Ed garnered the biggest crowd of any act there and I could get away with it. Harry stood there, nodding along to the music and really all I wanted to do was go over and hold his hand or something. Anything to just be close to him. I was craving his familiar smell, his touch and the feel of his skin underneath my fingertips. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t go over and be with him because I had no idea where we stood as a couple. And that was the funny part about it all -- we weren’t even broken up, but I couldn’t be with him.

It wasn’t funny, though, mostly just sad.

I’d come here today thinking that I’d get some answers, but all I got was a numbing heartache and muddled thoughts.

As I was about to snap myself out of it and properly focus on Ed, because he was smashing it as usual with his next cover of Big Sean, Harry’s eyes flickered over to me almost seamlessly like he’d sought me out long before and knew exactly where I was standing. Our eyes locked and this time he didn’t look away and pretend like he didn’t see me standing there, something I hated and would do anything to change. His eyes and expression were unguarded and almost longing and sad. Every inch of my body was suddenly begging for me to go -- make my way over to Harry because this felt like an opening, but then the moment broke shortly after when he fixed his expression to something more hard with his lips pressed tight in a thin line.

I should have known. It was too easy after the way he’d been towards me during this entire event. It didn’t explain, though, why he was watching me now with such determination when all he’d done until now was avoid me -- when he made it so clear he didn’t even want me there. But then Harry shifted a bit back so that he was more included in the group that he was with. His eyes didn’t leave mine as he wrapped an arm around one of the girls with him.

My lips parted in astonishment despite the fact that I knew what was going to happen before it happened. Harry pulled the girl close to him, leaning down to whisper something in her ear that made her giggle and lean further into him. He then put his other arm around another girl to whisper sweet nothings into her ear as well. And through all of this, his eyes were trained on me, making sure he knew I was watching. If Harry was anything, he was an overachiever, flirting with two girls simultaneously and knowing exactly what it was doing to me.

And it fucking hurt. It felt like Harry was trying to make me have a taste of my own medicine and while a part of me knew I deserved that, it didn’t mean that I could accept seeing him with any other girl. It didn’t mean I could stand there and watch while he tried to pull two at the same time. Something heavy and ugly settled into my stomach and I knew I couldn’t be there any longer. Coming to the senior cookout was obviously a mistake despite Liv’s good intentions and efforts. If I hadn’t come, Harry wouldn't have ignored me, he wouldn’t be out here trying to get with girls, but another part of me knew that it hardly mattered I was there because it wasn’t like he was acknowledging me. He would have done all those things, anyway.

I pulled my gaze away from Harry, seeing that Dylan had joined Liv while I was looking at Harry and that the two of them were standing a bit ahead of me, trying to sneakily hold hands. I hoped they were distracted long enough to not notice me slip away, pushing through the crowd until I was sprinting back home.



Twenty minutes later, I found myself sat on my balcony, letting out choked sobs, like they were being ripped out of my chest. I couldn’t remember crying this much in my entire life -- not like back in the day where it was a couple of tears and just feeling blue for a little while. This was more like collapsing on the ground and having every inch of my emotions being pulled out of me involuntarily. It seemed that no matter how much I’d cried for the past few days, my tear quota wasn’t quite filled up yet. This time I couldn’t stop, nor did I want to.

I let myself get swallowed by it, because it was oddly comforting. I couldn’t get the picture of Harry and those girls out of my mind. I knew he did that to spite me and that was the worst part because I never thought that things would come this far. When I thought back to the way we started and how it had all come down to this -- this wasn’t what I wanted...it wasn’t supposed to end like this. It was never supposed to get this bad. Where was the warning? Because with Harry it had always been so easy that I couldn’t have suspected such a turn if my life depended on it.

I just needed to know if it was over. I needed to know if this was it because I couldn’t continue on like this. If Harry would just come out and tell me that he didn’t want me anymore and that he couldn’t bear to hold me then I’d leave him alone even though the thought of it flooded me with all this dread and pain and heartbreak. But I’d have an answer and a path to go down. I’d have something other than these mixed signals. A part of me felt like maybe the answer was right there, but I didn’t want to accept it, which was why I needed him to tell me.  

Maybe I should give up, then. Maybe this was how it was really meant to end.