slipping through my fingers (h.s)

results day blues

"Come on Til, you're going to have to open it at some point," Harry sighed, soothingly rubbing his hand across his 18 year old daughter's back. "I know you've done really well,"

She shook her head, the envelope in her hand beginning to become soft in-between her fingers, which were now drenched with sweat. "I can't, Dad,"

The school sports hall was packed with a hundred teenagers and their parents- some looked gleeful whilst others were in tears. It was the day that Tilly had spent the last two years studying for, you and Harry putting up with Tilly chanting different phrases at you in French, and trying to explain the Industrial revolution to you both over and over again, which usually resulted in Harry ending up fast asleep at the other end of the sofa. You knew that she hadn't slept all night- black bags lined underneath her green eyes, which she had tried desperately to cover with a layer of concealer.

"I can open it for you," Lottie smirked as she tried to snatch it from her sister's hand.

"No!" Tilly cried, her lips trembling. "I want to do it,"

"Well get on with it, then," Lottie joked as you glanced over at her, brows furrowed.

"Give your sister some space, you will be nervous when you have to open your results next year too,"

Tilly glanced, wide-eyed, around the hall, as her friendship group began to march towards her, beckoning her to tell them whether she had gotten the grades she needed to get into university. She slumped into Harry's arms, her heart racing, her eyes beginning to become glossy. Her face almost turned a shade of green before she quickly turned around and darted outside, Harry chasing after her.

"Tilly, where are you going, baby!" Harry shouted, struggling to keep up. He found her sat outside on a set of stairs, mascara now streaming down her face. Her cheeks were a shade of bright red as she struggled to breathe, a wheeze escaping her lungs every few seconds. Harry scrambled around his bag to find his inhaler before pressing it up to her lips.

"Deep breaths, babygirl," he sighed, sitting down next to her. "You're okay, Daddy's got you,"

They sat like that for a few minutes, with her cradled in his arms, the august breeze ruffling Harry's soft brown hair, which he had grown back down to his shoulders.

"I think," she whispered. "I think I'm ready to open it, Daddy,"

"Okay, baby," he smiled. "I'm going to be so proud of you, no matter what. You know that, don't you? I'm always proud of you,"

Her lips curled up slightly at the corners as he said this, her eyes still red with tears as she began to tear open the top of the envelope, revealing the letters inside.

"Oh no," she began to sob, her breathing picking up again. "Oh no, oh no, no, no, no,"

She threw the papers onto the ground in front of her before holding her head in her hands. Harry reached down to pick them up, adjusting his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose.

He almost gasped as he began to read the letters on the page. "Til, that's amazing!"

"It's not, it's shit Dad, don't lie to me," she shouted. "All that for nothing,"

"I wouldn't have been able to get those grades, Til," he tried to soothe her. "I'm so proud of you,"

She looked up as she was greeted by you and Lottie, who had finally found her and Harry outside of the hall, her eyes now lined with black.

"What's wrong, darling?" you asked, as she stared back up at you whilst biting your lip.

"I haven't got in," she stuttered. "I needed AAA to get into Manchester, and I only got AAB, and I-"

"Only," Harry tutted. "Have you checked UCAS? You never know, maybe they'll still accept you,"

She shook her head, her head burrowed in his t-shirt, which was now stained with her mascara.

"I don't want to," she wept. "I bet they haven't,"

"I can do it for you, if you like," Harry replied, and she began to unlock her phone and passed it to him.

"Oh god, I don't know how this works," he chuckled, trying to keep his tone light. "Wait, hold on, wait,"

His face began to light up.

"What," Tilly sniffled, trying to wipe the smeared makeup from around her eyes.

"You're in!" he shouted. "It says you're going to Manchester,"

"You're lying," Tilly hissed.

"I wouldn't lie to you, baby, look," Harry smiled.

He held the phone out to her, and her eyes lit up as she saw confetti on the screen. "You're joking, this must be a joke, I-"

"My baby is going to uni!" he shouted, jumping up with her still in his arms. "Hold on, I've got to tell Nanny Anne and Aunty Gemma, they're going to be so happy,"

"But why, Daddy," she whispered. "Why would they still take me, I did shit, I am shit at everything,"

He cupped her chin in his hands and turned it towards him, his eyes widened, a line forming in-between his eyebrows. "Don't you dare talk about yourself like that, you know that's not true,"

"It is," she moaned.

"No," he said sternly, "It's not,"

"Okay, it's not," she sighed. "But I only got a B in French,"

"Only!" he laughed. "I only got a C in my French GCSE, I was awful at it- Nanny Anne would tell you. And you know you can speak French, I've heard you, so why does it matter what a piece of paper says,"

She exhaled slowly. "You're right. It's just a letter,"

"That's right," he smiled. "And you know I'm so proud of you, don't you? You make me more and more proud every-day, I love you," He peppered a kiss to her forehead.

"I love you too," she smirked.