Bad Friend

31- Jamaica

Jamaica, July 2016

"Here you are!"

I took the key card from the receptionist and thanked him, turning towards the elevator that would take me up to my room. "Come on, Cher," I said softly, tugging on her leash a little so that she would follow. With a duffle bag slung over my shoulder, I headed up to my hotel room.

"Hotel room" was a bit of a stretch. I was in what I would consider a motel, in the smallest room I'd ever been in before and miles away from where Harry and the rest of his team were staying. In theory, I didn't really mind that I was in a small room for the week. A place to sleep was a place to sleep. But I had Cher with me on this trip, and she barely had any room to turn in a circle and find a comfortable place to rest on the floor.

"This is the last time we ever go to Emily and Jeff for anything," I muttered to Cher, who was sitting in the bathtub and smiling up at me, not a care in the world that we barely had any room.

I was trying my hand at surprising Harry. Since he had been on set filming his movie, every visit had been scheduled and cleared with him. It was an attempt to avoid Emily, and so far I had been successful. In the last few months I'd only seen her a handful of times, and had spoken to her even less. I didn't know what her intentions were or if her condescension was just a part of her personality, but to be honest I didn't really care. The less time I spent with her the better.

That being said, I really wanted to surprise Harry on this trip. We'd had a huge fight about it in the first place, and after I was able to cool down, I knew I had to make it up to him. I had a quick temper, and I let it get the best of me. I still felt like I was entitled to be a little angry with him, but when I hung up the phone after Harry and I had yelled at each other back and forth, even I knew I went too far.

Harry told me about his "writing retreat" about a week before he had to leave, which was right after he finished filming in London.

To say I was pissed was an understatement. And when I called to apologize the next day for the screaming match we had, Emily answered instead of Harry. She dropped a hint that Jeff had been planning this trip for months and that everyone knew about it. Except for me, obviously. Emily didn't say that to me, but it was implied.

I was livid. With Emily, with Harry, with Jeff. With all of them. Not even trying to hide the venom in my voice, I told Emily to put Harry on the phone.

"Listen, Gwen, I don't know why, but I understand you're upset, but Harry's really busy, and I don't think it's a good idea for you to add stress to an already—"

"Listen, Emily," I interrupted. "What you don't seem to understand is that I called to talk to Harry, not you, so put him. On. The. Phone."

"Hey Gwen, listen, now's not really a good—"

"Harry Styles, you better make time for me or I swear to God—"

"Alright! God, what is up with you?"

He thought I had an attitude? He had another thing coming. "What's up with me? What's up with me is that your little assistant told me that you and Jeff have been planning this trip to Jamaica for months," I seethed.

I heard Harry sigh, and a very small, very vindictive part of me felt satisfied for having caught him, but mostly I was just tired of catching him in his lies and omissions of the truth. The same thing happened when I found out about his fling with Kendall Jenner, and after we cleared that up I thought we were through with keeping that stuff from each other, but here we are once again. I didn't understand why we kept going in circles like this. It was exhausting.