red herring [h.s.]

58. (*)

TW: use of psychedelic drugs

Stella

"Harry, this is so nice." I dreamily spoke while looking over our scenery.

We had finally made it to Canada after a few days of road tripping. The van struggled a little to take us to Chicago and we had some troubles with it, but got it going again. We stayed in Chicago for a day and then continued driving, having now made it to Toronto after four days.

We'd stay here for two nights and then head to Montréal for one, before driving through to Vermont for the final weekend.

This week was going by way too quick.

I felt him wrapping his arms around me from behind as he hummed into my neck, "I know. Wished we could stay here a little longer."

I smiled and leaned back into him, keeping my eyes on the camping ground in front of us. We parked our van a little off to the side for some privacy, but still had the view of a national Canadian park. It had woods and lakes and it was so gorgeous. Like a literal painting.

"Don't you miss New York?" I mused softly. Harry squeezed my sides gently, "A bit. Like this is nice, but I'm a city boy. I like having everything close by and in reach. I like that there's a pizza place around the corner that's open at four in the morning."

I chuckled at his explanation, "All for pizza, hm?"

"Well, now that I've had Chicago pizza, I don't think the one in New York is going to cut it anymore." He joked. We gave into the hype and had typical Chicago-style pizza, which was heavenly. We groaned nearly all the way through dinner. The other nights we had some cosier food in our camper van, just heating up some stuff or eating typical camping food.

The van was a dream though. It had everything we needed even if it was such a tight little space. The only thing it didn't have, was a shower. Harry and I had been showering in public showers. We even snuck into a gym in Chicago for a quick wash-up, near getting caught by the security guard before we sprinted out only half dressed and jumped into the van.

I felt so alive.

It was like I was leaving all my thoughts behind in Washington and starting fresh. With him. It felt incredible.

I stopped worrying about the amount of money he was spending on this, I stopped worrying about what we were both going to be doing for a job after this. I stopped worrying.

My parents saw it in my face, how carefree I was, when they waved us off. They each hugged Harry tightly and it nearly made me cry of how wholesome it felt to have him in my childhood home. I still couldn't believe he took a random flight out to DC and surprised me on Friday morning. It was acts like that that proved his love to me. I had never been one for too many words, they were too easy to doubt. Actions were not.

It was why I was convinced that Jeremy had been in love with me too. He couldn't have faked that much for so many years. And neither could Harry.

I hadn't even thought much about the entire month in the Catskills, to be honest. So much time of those weeks was just a blur to me due to how sleepless and emotional I felt. I couldn't remember anything of that first week besides staring up at the ceiling of that dreadful bedroom constantly.

I didn't give much thought to Kristina, or the gang, or the killing, or the many women Harry had slept with. I accepted the lies, forgave him, ditched the score board between us and got back to the beginning. And it was good. I surprised myself with how I handled it honestly, and I wondered when it was going to come crashing down.