CyberBully | h.s au

Six

*1 week later*

Sunday was my least favorite day in the summer. During the school year it was, of course, Monday, but in the summer my parents made me go to church on Sunday morning. And that's why it's the worst.

"Sweetheart!" I heard my mom call from downstairs, "Your dad is waiting in the car for us. Hurry up!"

I left my phone in my room, sick of all the cyberbullying that has been happening lately. Ever since my run in with Harry and his friends at the park, I haven't stopped getting anonymous texts asking me how 'daddy' was. At first it brought tears to my eyes but now after getting the same texts over and over again saying the same thing like 'How's daddy?' 'I can't believe you fell for that. You loser.' , they've lost there effect on me. Which isn't necessarily a good thing, since I'm sure they will notice it's not bothering me anymore and find a new way to cyberbully me.

When I got to our car it was already turned on and ready to go. I plopped into the backseat with a huge sigh and crossed my short arms. My moms head whipped around as she flashed me a bright smile. My face did not reflect hers.

"Oh wipe that scowl off your face sweetie. What's the matter? You use to love going to church."

Use to. I hated almost everything to do with anything remotely social now. And chances are I'd see Harry and his family here since they always went to Sunday mass. 

To answer my moms question I unfolded my arms and peered around her seat to look at the time above the armrest.

"Whats the matter? It's 6:45 am. On Sunday!" I exclaimed and crossed my arms again before leaning back in my seat. I could see out of the corner of my eye my dads disappointed look, but I could care less right now. I was put in a grumpy mood ever since Harry made me cry when he was over my house for dinner.

"Don't talk like that to your mother, Claire." my dad shook his head.

"Sorry." I mumbled and closed my eyes to make the short ride over to the church seem shorter.

10 minutes later we were pulling into the church parking lot. I stepped out of the car and fixed my white lace dress that landed just above my knees. My hair was parted to the right with a braid going into my bun. I had applied a soft red lipstick and mascara with blush. It was the most make up I've worn in a while but why not look good when in the presence of God.

When we reached the inside of the church I heard my mom squeal before I turned to see Harry's mom ushering us over to where their family sat. I wanted to groan but I kept it in and faked a smile her way, walking behind my mother as we made our way to their pew. I could feel Harry's eyes burning into my body but I refused to look at him. 

It seemed like I could never get away from him because my mom took a seat on the other side next to Anne and my dad went beside her, leaving me next to Harry. I stood staring at my mom and Anne talking my anger bubbling inside me. I couldn't be mad at her for leaving me though, she didn't know how mean Harry was to me. 

I took a deep breath before slowly sitting down next to him. I made sure not to look his way because I knew that would only end badly. I could still feel his eyes on me but I tried my hardest to ignore it.

When the mass started I closed my eyes and listened to what the priest was saying. As much as I tried to ignore the fact that Harry's eyes were still burning into my skull, I couldn't. Even with my eyes closed I could feel his stare. It was maddening. If he was so disgusted by me, then why did he want to look at me? It was so infuriating that when 20 minutes went by and I still felt his stare, I snapped.

"What do you want?" I whisper yelled, my eyes big with anger and my mouth letting out small pants just from my small burst. 

I regretted even giving into him because when the same smug smirk that he always wore when teasing me appeared, I wanted to punch his lips then kiss them.

He didn't respond but only turned to the front of the room, leaving me confused as I gaped at him. I huffed and turned back to the front.

When 5 minutes past and I felt his stare on me again, I almost stood up and yelled at him. I don't now why it was making me so angry but it was.

"Harry," I almost whined while turning to look at him. "Why are you staring at me."

He let out a small chuckle, "You're cute when you're angry."

My face must've changed instantly because his seemed to reflect mine. We were both looking at each other with parted lips and big eyes.

"Wha-what did you just sa-"

"I didn't mean that." he quickly interrupted, turning to face the front. "Fucking idiot." he whispered to himself. 

My heart was beating so fast I could've sworn the whole church could hear it beating against my ribcage. I shakily turned to the front of the church, unsure if I had even heard him right. I didn't know what to think my heart was beating too fast and my stomach was swarming with those stupid butterflies. Just a few weeks ago he was telling me that me and him could never work, and now he was calling me cute?

I knew it wasn't some kind of joke because his face after he said it just gave away that he was just as surprised that he said it that I was surprised by hearing it. I needed to talk with him after church.