Prove It (H.S)

Chapter Twenty Four

I wake up to my alarm, mascara smeared across my face and hair matted around my head like a helmet. I fell asleep...oh great! Three hours ago! I was up all night trying to come up with a scenario that would make it seem like Harry having Aubrey's number made sense. I couldn't.

There is no good reason for that piece of paper to be in his jeans, there simply isn't. Now, there is a reason for him to lie about who's number it was, but I don't want to know that one.

I crawl out of bed, rushing to the bathroom to wash my face. My hair. This is a problem. It looks like a jungle of blonde vines and feels like wire. I try my best to brush through it, then straightening it. Well at least I look presentable.

I hardly try on my makeup, seeing as it's impossible to cover up the bags under my eyes. I slowly pull on my shorts and blue t-shirt, sliding my feet into flip flops. This is just gonna have to do.

I grab my books and make my way to the oh-so-dreaded philosophy class. Not only will Harry be there, but he'll be there with a waiting excuse, or explanation as to why I found my ex-best friend's phone number pushed in the front pocket of his skinny jeans. Not to mention, I sit next to him.

I walk into the room, and Harry is already sitting in his regular spot. I stand in the doorway, pondering whether or not I'll sit with him. As I think, I feel a light tap on my elbow. I turn my head to find Bennett, feet kicked up on the table, sunglasses in hand. "Hey there, beautiful," he says, a sly grin on his face.

I just stare at him, stunned by his language. Maybe Harry and I aren't really together right now, wait are we? Whatever, either way, Bennett is Harry's friend, and shouldn't be hitting on me. "Ms.Hoffman, would you like to take a seat?" Professor Grant speaks, causing Harry to turn around, his eyes glued to mine.

I nod slightly, before rushing to sit down in the nearest seat, across from Bennett. I glance over to Harry, who's face has fallen, and when he sees me look at him, he turns away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry's POV~

Knowing that Claire was in that room, but not next to me left a horrible feeling in my stomach. All through out class, I couldn't stop turning around to look at her. I fucked up big time, and she's not going to want to hear me apologize.

"Claire!" I catch her before she walks out. She turns around, her eyes tired. "I, uh, can we talk?" My voice breaks, and she sighs. Shrugging, she says,"I don't know, what is there to talk about?" Damn, is she really doing this?

"Everything," I say, taking her wrist in my hand and leading her out of the building. She pulls away from my grasp when we stop near a bench. Her blue eyes are staring into mine, waiting for me to speak. I clear my throat. "Claire, this whole thing was a misunderstanding. Aubrey and I bumped into each other, and she starting flirting with me, but I didn't flirt back. I didn't want to. Then, she just slipped the paper in, and I forgot to throw it away. I know I should've right when I got it but I-." I'm cut off when she raises a hand, silencing me.

"Harry, that's not really what bothered me the most. It's the fact that you tried to lie about it. I trusted you. I really did. But I don't even know if I can anymore." Ouch. I thread my fingers through my hair in frustration and Claire's eyes dart everywhere but at me. "I know, I still haven't been able to figure out why I lied," I say, sighing in defeat.

"Well," she says, pulling her books tighter into her chest,"Let me know when you do." She walks away, leaving me standing alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I run around like a mad man looking for Zayn. I really need to talk to him, especially after my conversation with Claire post philosophy a few minutes ago. Aubrey can't be around anymore, and the only way that's going to happen is if she's no longer with Zayn.

I finally spot him sitting against one of the walls of Royce Hall, a book open on his lap. I walk up to him, slowly. When he spots me, a flicker of anger is clear in his brown eyes. "What do you want?" He spits, closing the book he was reading. I sit down next to him.

"Listen, mate. I love you like a brother, and I hate that this whole situation has gotten so out of hand," I say, getting a scowl out of Zayn. "You mean the situation you started?" He asks, raising his eyebrows. I sigh,"Yes."

He nods, signaling me to go on. "I'm gonna say something, and I really don't want you to punch me in the face. I just need you to hear me out." He looks at me, uncertainty taking over his expression. "Okay," he says.

"I know that you know that Aubrey has a thing for me, and I know that you love her. Honestly, I think she cares about you too, but not how you think she does. I wouldn't tell you all these things if I didn't think it was really a problem. I know that it must suck to be in the position you're in and-," I'm interrupted when Zayn speaks. "Just get to the point, Harry."

I'm pleasantly surprised by his calm demeanor. "Oh, okay, yeah. Uh, I know this is a crazy thing to request, but you need to break up with Aubrey. She's fucking up my relationship with Claire, and it's not fair. You deserve someone that really loves you, Zayn." When I look at him, his eyes are stuck to the ground, and I think I see tears forming. Oh no.

"Zayn?" I ask, hoping to God he's not gonna start crying on me. "I know what I have to do, I just don't want to let her go. I don't want to believe it, Harry," he says dryly. I nod, getting up from my spot. "Well, I wish you luck, lad," I say, beginning to walk away when Zayn's voice stops me. "No, Harry. I want you to be there when I talk to her."