The Clique

Chapter Sixteen

Indigo's POV

The comfort that sleep brought was fading quickly as I desperately tried to claw my way back into peaceful unconsciousness. My body soon won the silent battle as my eye lids fluttered open, revealing my cluttered bedroom and allowing the flurry of thoughts to blur my mind once again. My cognizance immediately drifted to Harry, as it tended to do a lot lately, and the aftermath of the previous night's events caused a panic to erupt in my chest.

I couldn't help but feel as if I should hate him, or at least resent him for the trouble he has most certainly caused in not only my relationship with him but also with my mother and father, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The vulnerability of his words held an immeasurable truth that no actor could procure. He was innocent of being evil and for now that was good enough for me.

My reverie was broken by the light buzz of my phone on the night stand. Unfurling myself from the comfort of my grey duvet, I gingerly reached for my phone as a message from Harry popped up.

*Can we please talk? I can come to you?*

Some ignorant part of me whispered to ignore the text for a few hours as I collected my thoughts, but the stronger, more dominant part yelled for me to be near him. I chose the latter, obviously.

*No, I'll come to you. Text me a time and address and I'll be there*

As I awaited his reply, I pulled some skinny jeans and a jumper from my drawers and quickly changed before applying a small amount of concealer under my eyes to cover the tired bruises under them.

Grabbing my phone, I tip toed down stairs, hoping to avoid my parents completely and slipping out quietly, but luck has never been on my side and I soon heard the sound of my father clearing his throat loudly behind me just as I was about to reach the front door.

"Indigo." He said sternly, his eyebrows so deeply furrowed I thought they would merge into one.

"Dad." I countered shortly.

"Where are you going?" He placed his hands on his hips, covered in his stupid dark blue slacks. Why can't he just wear track pants or something, he's just at home for f.ucks sake.

I mentally face palmed and groaned before considering lying to him. "I'm going to..."

"To?"

"Harry's" I softly whispered awaiting his impending explosion.

But it never came. "I know." Well that was not what I was expecting.

"What?"

"He texted me a few minutes ago to let me know you would be with him, telling me his address and the times you will be gone." My mouth parted in surprise.

"Why?" I questioned stupidly.

"Because I told him to. But that's not the point, your mother and I want to have a discussion with you before you leave." He quickly turned into the lounge room, expecting me to follow, which I soon did.

This is so weird. Why would Harry willingly update my father on things?

My mother was already sitting on the crème couch as my father sat beside her, leaving an arm chair across from them for me. This felt unsurprisingly like they were ganging up on me.

My mother's mouth was set in a firm line as she glanced at me with unsure eyes. I inherited her blue orbs, but most people say I look like my father, to be honest I don't see myself in either of them. "Honey, you know that as your mother I'll always love you."

I mentally prepared myself for a lecture as she offered a forced smile before continuing, "I'll always support you, but are you sure this boy is good for you?"