Chapter 34

1.5K 41 2
                                    

FAITHLYN'S POV

In all honesty, I could never- in my life time- hold a grudge against anyone. I try really hard to hate someone for more than a day but the truth is that the next day, that problem from yesterday doesn't bother me as much as it did.

I was no longer mad or upset with Harry. I still loved him after all the things he had said and done yesterday. No, I won't ever forget the words he said because I take the insults that are thrown at me into my heart and hold them there. I know that is a shit thing to do to myself, but I can't help it. I have always held insults in my head and they always came back to memory at random times, reminding me that for that split second that my boyfriend was annoyed, he took his anger out on me.

I push that thought to the back of my mind. I don't want to think negatively today because it's Harry's birthday and I want us to be happy today.

It is currently Sunday morning, 7:00 AM, and I was getting ready to surprise Harry by showing up at his house with all of his presents that I had bought him over this past week when we weren't together. He had texted me a once this morning but being the horrible girlfriend that I am, I did not reply to play it off as if I am still mad at him. While he is freaking out that I haven't replied, I am going to go over to his house and we will spend the day doing whatever he wants.

So in a way, I am an awful girlfriend, but my surprise presents even it out.

I decided on wearing a plain grey dress that was loose and flowy. The sleeves on it were short and the dress ended right above my knee caps. I looked in the mirror and saw that I looked like I was thirteen again with a plain grey dress and no makeup. I huff at my reflection and add a red,blue, and black flannel on top of the dress.

My hair was wavy from the braid that I had it in last night so today my hair was in gorgeous wavy locks. I washed my face before swiping a few layers of mascara on to my long eyelashes. I didn't want to wear tons of makeup today. I leave it at that and go down stairs to where my mom was in the kitchen, as always.

I haven't talked to her much since she got home. I don't think she even told me happy birthday. I'm not horribly offended or anything. Sure, I'm a little upset that even my friends threw me a surprise party and my mom didn't even know that I was now eighteen, but it's alright because I haven't known how old Mom was for the past few years. I lost count after thirty-five.

"Good morning, Faith." Mom cheers as she sits at the glass kitchen table, newspaper in one hand and coffee mug in the other. Typical old parent.

"Good morning." I begin to pop a bagel into the toaster and scroll through a few other messages that Harry has sent which make my heart ache.

Good morning, Baby girl. I hope I get to see you today.

I just want to apologize to you again for last night. I'm sorry that I hurt you again.

I'm so sorry, Faithlyn. Just please reply to me. You don't have to even hangout with me today. Just please text me back and tell me that you are okay and that you didn't get kidnapped last night.

God I love that boy. He is so sweet and sensitive, yet such an asshole and a dick. Does he honestly think that I would leave him by himself on his birthday? Even if we had broken up, I would still spend his birthday with him because we can still be friends.

I slip my phone back into the front pocket that lies on the left side of my chest of my dress without replying. I do feel guilty for making him this way, but it will all be worth it when I get there.

By the time it is 8:30 AM, Mom let me borrow her car considering that I can't carry all of Harry's gifts while I ride a long board. So Mom being the generous and happy person she is, she tossed me the keys and helped me load the small blue Honda with Harry's gifts and the cake that we both made for him about five minutes ago. I bit my lip as I tried to suppress my smile from excitement. I know that he will like at least one of the gifts that I bought him. Even if he doesn't like any of my presents, I know that he isn't going to tell me if he doesn't. He always thinks that 'it's the thought that counts' or some shit like that.

Leave Me Alone (h.s.)Where stories live. Discover now