June
HARRY STYLES
"So anyway...yeah. It's not me, it's you."
Jamie blinked at me with her big brown doe eyes, and I almost felt sorry for her until she raised her hand to slap me right across the face. I deserved it, but the stinging sensation took all my sympathy away.
"You're such a fucking bastard," she kicked my sheets off to stand to her feet, scrambling to get dressed. "You're a waste of fucking space, you're a loser, and you're pathetic."
I parted my lips to remind her that she was just moaning my name and clawing at my back a half hour ago but decided at the last minute that I didn't really want another slap. "Okay."
She faltered on zipping her skirt up. "Okay?"
My eyes bounced around the room as I tried to figure out what else she wanted me to say. "Yeah."
Her face contorted into some kind of horrified expression like I just confessed to being a serial killer. "You know what? This is great. This is perfect, actually. You're not even that good in bed, and what the fuck else do we even do anyway? It's not like you talk to me, because God forbid we have an actual conversation."
Curiously more than anything, I propped myself up on my elbows and tilted my head at her. "What would you have wanted to talk about?"
Her silence was louder than any answer she could have given me as she finished getting herself dressed. She knew as well as I did that we had nothing in common, and this was just for fun. "I don't know, maybe the fact that you're incapable of human emotion. And do you know how pathetic it is that as a 24-year-old man, you're still just having sex with no strings attached? Like you're a fucking teenager? That's disgusting."
Now that was just unfair. I told her from the very beginning that this was casual, and she was smiling when she agreed and said that was fine with her. So was it more pathetic for me to have that mindset? Or more pathetic for her to willingly agree to it if she secretly expected more?
"Well, I had fun while it lasted, so," I swung my legs over the bed to stand in just my boxer briefs. "I've got nothing bad to say about you."
"Yeah? Well, fuck you, Harry," she pointed bitterly at me. "Have fun fucking yourself from now on. Prick."
I followed her as she swung the door open to jog down the stairs, just so I could make sure to lock up behind her before I'd take a shower. As she opened the front door to leave, she was met with my best friend, his fist raised to knock. I had to try not to laugh at the way she visibly frightened him.
"Hey, Jamie," he said.
"Fuck you, Zayn."
His jaw dropped as we both watched her leave, scoffing to himself as he stepped inside. "The hell did I do?"
"Doesn't matter, that's over now."
"Yeah, I could have guessed," he mumbled, heading toward the living room. "What happened?"
I shrugged and made my way into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. "I'm just bored. She's boring."
He laughed from the couch as he scrolled on his phone. "I don't even know why I ask, as if one of these days you're just gonna be happy with any of these poor girls you find."
I tossed the beer cap in the trash. "Yeah, I wouldn't know what that's like."
"Well, you know what, H? Maybe someday you might just figure it out."
"Just seems like a waste of time," I walked over to join him, sitting on the opposite side of the sectional. "Sex is easier."
"Yeah, God forbid you have a real conversation with anyone."
