The "Biggest" Fan (EN)

18.

"How are you?" Lottie's voice was annoyingly loud, like fingernails on a chalkboard. Everything around me was too noisy, and I just wanted to bury my head in the ground and stay there for the rest of my life.

I walked into the kitchen without saying a word. My head felt like it was made of lead, and I still felt dizzy. What else did I expect?

"I'll manage," I croaked, my voice dry and scratchy. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to go back to bed and hide under the covers. I probably would've stayed there all day if my mouth wasn't so disastrously dry.

"Did something happen last night?" She asked, and when I turned around, she looked genuinely concerned. "You never drink that much. I've never seen you so drunk..."

"I just... Got carried away, that's all", I mumbled, hoping she'd drop it. I grabbed a glass of cold water, trying to shake off the chills that ran down my spine as I drank it. Relief in the form of water, but even that felt like it wasn't enough.

"I get that you were really trying to get along with Harry for me, but was he really that unbearable last night?" She joked, laughing lightly. A part of me wondered if she consciously was trying to torture me.

I froze. The sound of his name was like a trigger, sending a shot of adrenaline through my system. My pulse quickened, and I had to look away, focusing on a glass of water in my hand, but even the idea of drinking any more of it made me want to puke.

"Nah, he's alright. It was quite fun with him, actually," I said quickly, hoping to shut down the conversation. But the memories of last night slammed into my head, uninvited and violent. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"So, you're like friends now?" She raised an eyebrow, clearly teasing me, trying to hide the little glint of joy in her voice.

"Yeah, I guess," I muttered, but in my head, I was already lost. Friends?  What friends do that? I really thought we were friends. But after last night... What the hell had happened?

My lips still tingled from the kiss. I could still smell his hair, still see those green eyes like they were branded on my mind. Why the hell was I drunk? Why had I let it happen? And why couldn't I stop thinking about it?

Then it hit me. Harry knew exactly what he was doing. He'd been playing me from the start. What a coincidence that he suddenly became so interested in Lottie, popping up at our place all the time. He'd used her to get to me. And I let him.

"Harry asked if you're okay. You weren't replying to his texts," Lottie said, looking at her phone.

She was right. I hadn't responded to him. Every time I saw a message from him, my chest tightened, like something heavy was weighing me down. I didn't want to talk to him. Not now. Not ever.

"My phone died," I lied, and without thinking, I made a quick escape to my room. Fuck. I couldn't handle even a second more of talking about him. Just one more second and I was going to puke. Maybe it was the hangover, or maybe the thought of Harry. Not really sure.

Fuck, this was probably what I deserved. For being so damn stupid. For thinking it was a good idea to kiss Harry back. What the hell was I thinking? Why would I ever kiss him?

I held my phone, not even wanting to read the messages from Harry. But my fingers betrayed me, and I opened them anyway. He seemed worried, apologizing for last night.

Me: I'm fine, stop texting.

What the hell are we supposed to do now? Pretend nothing happened?

Harry: Are you mad at me?

Me: I don't know.

Harry: Don't forget it was you who kissed me too.