Constant // Harry Styles

Chapter Two: "Where is he?"

"It's not fall break already, is it?" My father asked, cutting the lawn mower off and checking his watch. As I climbed out of my car, the crisp, salty air from the beach a few blocks away stung the insides of my lungs.

"No," I said, closing the car door. "Why are you mowing the lawn this late in the season?  It feels like winter is going to be here tomorrow."

My father pulled his tiny-framed glasses from his face and began to wipe them on his faded, gray sweatshirt. He looked older every time I saw him and a little more fragile, probably because he was nearing the time of retirement. For many people, retirement was something to look forward to. For my father, it meant the end of something he loved and made a lifestyle of. You could only be in the Marine Corps for 30 years, and he was on year 29. Talk about dedication. Today in particular, his high-and-tight cut hair was a lighter shade of gray and he had an extra wrinkle or two in his forehead. He cocked his head at me once his glasses were clear and resting back on the bridge of his nose. "Everything okay? It's not usual that we see a Rory on the weekends, unless it's break."

"A girl can't just drive home for the night?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

My dad shrugged. "As long as I'm not paying for the gas money."

I laughed. "It only took me quarter of a tank of gas to get here anyway, old man."

My dad winced and scrunched his nose. "Ooh, 'old man.' You cut me deep, buddy."  My father cracked a tired grin and reached out an arm to me. He walked me into the house, giving me a reassuring squeeze as we stepped into the front door and greeted my confused mother.

"Rory? Everything alright?" She asked, her eyes scanning me up and down. I could feel the judgment already and I hadn't even been in her presence in for a full 30 seconds. I made sure that, before I drove home this morning, I put on the bulkiest sweater I could find in my closet just to hide my body from her.  

"Are you alright?" My father asked my mother. I had to admit, I was about to ask her the same thing. She was wearing a heavy amount of black mascara on her eyelashes that made it look like spider legs coming off of her eyes. Half of one fake eyelash was peeling up on the end of her right eye and sticking to the vibrant pink and purple blended eyeshadow coated onto her eyelids. A Barbie-pink lipstick topped the whole look off. Not her usual makeup at all. "You look like an easy-bake oven blew up in your face, Callie."

My mother gawked at her husband and put her hands on her tiny waist. "Well, Frank, I'll have you know that this is what most girls are doing these days. It says so in Cosmopolitan Magazine. I'll bet Rory will back me on this one. I know she sees girls looking like this on campus all the time."

I curled my upper lip and shook my head slowly. "No, mom... no..."

"You two..." My mom said, rolling her eyes and dragging a long, sequined nail along her bottom lip to shape up the line of her lipstick. "Anyway, what is Rory doing here? Not that I mind, we just had no idea..."

It was obvious that I didn't ever just drop in to see my family, but I didn't want to have to explain to anyone that I was literally running from my problems. The Kappa Sig Tri-Delt party later today was stressing me out. I wanted to be there for Cameron. He had asked me to go, right? But what Harry said to me... That was the most he and I had ever talked, and he definitely didn't make me feel any kind of welcome to this party. I decided the previous night that I would just drive two hours home and stay the night. That way, I wasn't even in the area of the party. My father wouldn't want to discuss petty problems like this and my mother would want to over-discuss it, so what was I to say?

"Today is National Visit Your Parents Day," my father interrupted my thoughts. "She thought it would be fun to be a part of it with us."  For as outwardly unemotional as I was, my father could read me too easily sometimes, covering for me when he thought I needed it, like a best friend would.