Heartstrings ➳ z.m.

eight - skylar

Chapter Eight – Skylar

            “You weren’t at the store.” There was no venom in Trinity’s voice, her tone was stoic, and her eyes were only slightly narrowed. She wasn’t even accusing me. She was just simply stating it, because I had told her that Michael needed me back in the shop for a bit when quite obviously that was a lie. “I called, because I was going to make dinner, and I wanted to know if you were hungry too.” Her head tilted to the side a bit, hazel eyes squinting even smaller. “But you weren’t there. And neither was Michael.”

            I bit my lip, shrugging slightly and tugging my fingers through my chocolate hair. I had two options, now. Either convince Trinity that I was actually telling the truth (which I knew probably wouldn’t work) or act indifferent. I couldn’t tell her where I actually was, that was for sure. “Hmm, oh?” I shrugged off my jacket just to avoid eye contact even longer, but then Trinity’s dainty hand was latched onto my arm.

            “Wait! Spill.”

            And now I genuinely was confused. I pulled my brows together, meeting her gaze. “What?”

            “Whose number is that?”

            My eyes widened as I took in the scribbled digits that started at about my wrist and ran about halfway to my elbow. I had completely forgotten about that being there.

            Trinity raised her brows expectantly.

            I shrugged, shaking her off the hang up my coat. Lowly, so she could barely hear, I mumbled, “It’s Louis’?”

            Even still, it was enough to set her off into a fit of giggles. She squealed and jumped and her eyes got wide (it was pretty much the same reaction that I had had, honestly) and then she battered questions out of me until I had to wet my lips between every sentence because I was talking them dry.

            “Can I come with you tomorrow?” She asked, a hopeful glow tinting her face.

            Well I couldn’t exactly tell her no.

            “Well… Uh… Sure.”

            “Oh, I remember you!” Louis grinned to Trinity as he answered the door, swinging it open.

            I tried to ignore the little stab that I felt, pushing inside without a proper greeting.

            “Oh it’s you again,” Harry groaned jokingly from his spot on the couch, sprawled wide. Almost as if he wanted to make sure that I knew he was joking, though, he grinned, his dimples showing.

            His smile was almost as nice as Louis’.

            Almost.

            “Don’t you have your own apartment, Curls?” I shot back, and he pretended to be offended, waving the remote around dramatically.

            “And miss out on the pleasure of seeing you? I would never!”

            “Oh I’m sure.” I rolled my eyes lightly, nodding at Liam, who was watching us with a soft smile on his face. “I really hope you don’t mind me trashing your place, Liam.”

            He shook his head, eyes glancing from the TV to me. “No, no, I don’t mind, really. And it’s nice to be around somebody other than the lads, you know?” As if to emphasize his point, Liam nudged Harry’s feet from his coffee table with a swat of his hands. “See what I mean?”