Easy A+

Chapter 65

You make me wanna scream
At the top of my lungs
It hurts, but
I won't fight you

– The Neighbourhood, Afraid

. . . .

After a short nap, I stretch my aching limbs above my head. The bags of clothing from earlier are sat outside of the closet doors and Harry's shoes are missing from the mat to the right of the dresser. There's a single piece of notebook paper placed underneath my phone with his spiky handwriting scrawled across the blue lines.

I got a call from Beckman asking me to go in to collect my things and Lilly came with me to help. I think it's best if Lilly and I stay at my mum's for the night. We need a night away from each other because I'd rather not end up in another argument.

– Harry

It was short and directly to the point, unlike the other letters he's ever written to me. I sit the note aside and get out of bed, grab my phone, then open the sliding door to the deck. I find Harris' number in my contacts, desperately needing to vent and catch up with him and his life in his new home.

The phone rings three times before he picks up.

"Hey, Vi. What's up?"

"I just wanted to call to see how you were doing...and I desperately need to talk."

The line crackles a bit on his end and there's a bit of talking in the background.

"I'm sorry, Vi, I can't talk right now. I have to get the rest of my furniture in the flat before tomorrow. I can talk tomorrow though."

I dig my toe into the hardwood of the floor and my fingers fumble around with the string of my shorts.

"No, it's okay. It's not a big deal."

"Seriously, Violet, just please call me if you desperately need me. I have to go."

I assure him I will and hang up. The house is dead silent. All the lights are off, giving an ominous gloom to the gray walls, and the thunderous boom of the storm isn't helping either. I want Harry with me. I want us to be okay again. He's my best friend and it breaks my heart when we fight like this.

We both need to learn to talk out our feelings instead of stretching them out and waiting for them to disappear into the past to move on.

With my phone still on, I press Harry's contact name and when it immediately goes to voicemail, I call again. Once the same process repeats itself, I slam the door shut and slip my shoes on. I run out of the house with the rain pelting down against my body and slip inside my car. I rummage back through my mind and remember where exactly Harry's parent's house is located.

The streets are slick with a thick coat of sticky rain and the air outside is unbearably humid. The rain has only let up a little bit in the past half hour or so, but once I pull up to Harry's parents' house I notice his car sitting at the lower end of the driveway. The living room is lit up as well as is a single light upstairs.

Getting even more wet as I run through the rain, I make it to the tiny porch and ring the doorbell, shivering inside my light jacket. I can see Harry sitting back on the couch with his legs propped up on the coffee table, watching the flat screen, with a blanket wrapped over his thighs. He stands up and walks over, switching the foyer light on. The door swings open and his expression drops into a frown. He stands in front of me with his arms crossed over his white t-shirt, his shoulder leaning against the door and frown lines stretched into his skin.

"What are you doing here? You shouldn't be driving in this weather."

"I should be asking you the same question. Why aren't you home?"