Love, Harry [l.s]

fourteen

Harry's POV:

My breaths are rapid and shallow when I hear the person on the other end pick up their phone and speak. "Hello? This is Anne speaking."

My hands tremble as I hold the phone up to my ear, not speaking, just listening. My mum's voice is calm and soothing, a certain warming comfort to her accent, which is almost identical to my own. 

It sounds as if she has no idea her son is on the other end and has been awaiting a phone call like this since he was three years old.

But the more that I think about it, she has no reason to suspect a thing. I remain silent as doubts begin to run through my head. 

What if she doesn't want to talk to me, or what if I make a fool of myself and she blocks my phone number? Or even worse, what if she gets mad for some reason that I'm trying to get in touch?

I know Skylar and Chris said that she's wanted to get in touch with me to some degree and cares about me and Gemma deeply, but that doesn't even register in my brain right now. All I can think about is my mom awaiting me to speak, and the consequences that will follow if I do.

"Hello?" She asks again. This time her tone of voice is tinged with a mix of mild curiosity and slight confusion. I clear my throat, trying to push my doubts and sudden fears into the back of my head.

I'm pacing in my room, anxious as ever. But for some reason, I can't get myself to open my damn mouth and just say 'Hi, Mum. It's Harry.' like any other teenager would with if they called their parents.

Four simple words are all that need to be said. Words that I've recited in await of this moment for years. And here I am in that exact moment, completely unable to say them.

In a moment of weakness, I hang up the phone without making a noise or even saying hello to her. Maybe this is all happening too fast, or maybe I'm not prepared enough to talk to my mum. I'm not quite sure what just happened, but I just didn't feel ready for that conversation.

As someone who likes to plan ahead and make sure everything is thought out and in order, since everything else in my life as a foster child is chaotic and unstructured, I need to better prepare myself for this.

But how do I do just that? I don't have a fucking clue.

I hurriedly walk over to my desk and take a picture of the letter and send it to both Louis and Tommy so they can read it. Then I call Louis, and he picks up on the first ring.

"Hey Haz, what's up?" His casual tone is a stark contrast from my wavering and uptight one.

If I were to look in the mirror right now, it would probably look like someone shoved a cucumber up my ass because my face is surely red and stressed out and my breathing is shaky and rapid.

I begin to ramble before I even have a chance to sort out my own thoughts. "Louis, I called her and she answered and it went so badly and I didn't even say anything and what if she doesn't want to call me back or what if she-"

"Woah, loverboy, slow down. Who is she, and what are you talking about?"

"My mum,"

"Like your biological one?"

"Yeah. I got a letter back from two of my parents' old friends and the one guy, Skylar, gave me my mum and dad's phone numbers to call. That is, assuming they didn't change them since Chris and Skylar last talked to them. So I called my mum's number, Anne, and she picked up," I explain, trying to calm my breathing as I do so.

"Wait, that's crazy, but in a good way. Okay, so she picked up the phone, and then what?"

I feel the regret of not answering her back flood through me as I recap the events that just happened. "Nothing happened. I panicked and wasn't sure if I was ready, so I hung up and called you."