The People We Regret - H.S.

c.4

songs for the chapter (I have a spotify "strwbryoatmlk")

From Now On- The Features
Cornflake Girl- Tori Amos
Sunlight- Hozier
Ironic- Alanis Morissette
I Got A Girl- Tripping Daisy

-

Adeline's p.o.v

"What did you do to that poor boy, Adeline."

"I haven't even sat down with my lunch and you are already giving me the third degree." I look to Dakota knowing she told Zayn all about Harry before I could even get the chance to defend myself. "...And his name is Harry."

I finally sit down at the lunch table across from Zayn with Dakota next to me. They had already been gossiping about before I had arrived. Knowing Dakota she already told Zayn every embarrassing thing I did that night. The drinks, the dancing, the forcing Harry into my antics, going to the river. Everything.

"Ya know she's wrong, whatever she told you was a lie," I say seriously. "I did not kidnap him, I did not force him to do anything. Everything she said is a lie."

"Really, then what is your version of the mystery boy?" Zayn taunts me putting his folded hands underneath his chin and his elbows on the table.

"He's not a mystery boy, first of all. His name is Harry I already told you that."

"I am so sorry ma'am your right I should refer to your new boyfriend by his name. How disrespectful of me." Zayn taunts me again but this one is more effective. My face falters a little but I quickly cover it with a laugh, that I hope they don't notice.

Harry is not my boyfriend.

"I went to get some more shots from the kitchen and he was sitting on the floor, looking quite sad-" Apparently something I said was funny because Dakota burst out laughing next to me.

"He literally told you that he wasn't sad, Adeline!" She says still laughing.

"Okay, and I just said he looked sad. I'm not saying my actions are justified but that is why I did it."

Zayn was always the artistic one in the group neither me nor Dakota displaying even a fraction of the talent he possessed. His love of art had always been apparent to me but I never really mentioned it because even eleven-year-old Adeline could tell it was an off-limits topic by the way he would flip his notebook over anything someone walked behind him or the way his little arms would create a barrier between his art and the rest of the world, or anytime it was brought by another classmate or a teacher, who happened to notice, the apple of his cheeks, the tips of his nose and ears, and the base of his neck would flush and probably feel hot to the touch. As we got older and closer he was more open with his art but I knew never to push him too hard about it. It's always more special when he shows me a piece because he wants to and not because he feels like that's what I want. Knowing that he's happy and proud of himself warms my heart from the inside out.

"Okay well, what's he look like?"

"Um... well he's got curly brown hair, he's tall... and was wearing all black."

"If I'm murder I hope to god you are not the one to witness it."

That made me giggle a little. I mean what did he expect from me it was dark, I was drunk and I'm not that great at remembering faces in the first place. So I think really hard back to when we were alone even though it's a little blurry.

"Ooh Oh he's British, like you, well not really like you, your accents are different and he had a friend but he was Irish," I say proud of myself for pulling that from the blurry night. Even more impressed that I remembered his friend.