Misadventure

50

Harry's POV

"This is totally unfair," I complained to Louis in my bedroom, which apparently we now would have to share for the rest of break. "For the past two years she acted like she was too good to even visit us. But the second we decide to do something with the attic, she suddenly wants to stay here?"

"I'm sorry, Haz," Louis said, rubbing my shoulders.

We were both on my tiny bed. I was lying on my stomach, facing to gaze out the window. Louis was sat straddling my lower back, rubbing his hands gently along my neck and shoulders over my shirt.

"It is strange timing," he agreed.

"Exactly." I was thankful Louis was here to take my side on this. Dad couldn't. He was over the moon excited that Gemma was finally willing to see him. As annoying as it was, I couldn't fault him. "I wish she would have picked a different time to visit. She's ruining our plans."

Maybe this was an exaggeration. Still. As awful as it was, a part of me felt horribly jealous. When I'd first moved to Manchester, it had taken months before Dad and I were as warm to each other as he was being to Gemma right now.

All because for so long, she hadn't wanted anything to do with him. But I had been so desperate for a parent to be in my life, he didn't have to work so hard to earn my affection.

"She's probably here, because she knows you're on break from school. I bet she wants to see you too," Louis said.

His words made logical sense, which only made me irritated. "Why would she even want to see me anyways?" I asked sadly. "All we do anymore is argue."

"Louis hummed softly, kneading a stubborn knot above my shoulder blade. "Because shes your sister, and she loves you. Because your visit with her over winter break was such a disaster."

"So?"

"She probably just want to make things right with you. I mean, she bought you a car for christ's sake."

"Well I don't want to see her." I pouted, still staring out the window.

It was raining, the evening sky a murky grey color. Puddles formed in the driveway, reflecting yellow from the streetlights near where Dad's truck, my car, and Gemma's car were parked.

The sight stirred up an odd feeling in my gut. Evan didn't drop her off? It was out of character for her to drive herself.

I chalked it up to her wanting an easy escape plan, incase she felt uncomfortable and wanted to leave. After all, she hadn't seen Dad in ages. She probably wasn't sure what to expect.

"Do you want to practice piano?" Louis asked suddenly.

I was taken aback. He rarely played anymore. I used to think drugs were the explanation. But the more time passed, the longer he stayed sober, the more I resigned to the idea that maybe not every passion was meant to last forever.

I also had a feeling he wouldn't give himself permission to pull the plug, even if he wanted to. He couldn't without disappointing his parents. The thought scared me a bit. I worried about him cracking under too much pressure. I worried about him relapsing.

When I looked at him, he was staring at me quizzically.

I realized he was still waiting for an answer.

"The real question is, do you want to practice piano?" I asked. Even though it was his idea, I still wanted him to feel like he had a choice in the matter.

"I thought it might take your mind off things. Remember when I spent the night at your place in Eastbourne?"

I nodded. There was a sudden lump in my throat. That night was a memory that neither of us talk about much.