My Babysitters Are Idiots // One Direction [Book 1: Idiot Series]

Chapter Ten - Scars

Mica.

He just won't talk to me. I know I should have never tried to hurt myself again, it's turned Harry against me.

He was sitting across from me at the table, eating away and not daring to look up. I kept my stare on him as I ate slowly, glancing at my arms every now and again. I don't know why I kept looking at them, I couldn't stop.

"So, Mica, you have to go back to school soon, right? Since your, uh, Jaw is healed," Liam asked, trying desperately to start a conversation.

"Summer break just started, so no, I don't," I replied without looking up at him.

"Didn't you already have summer break?" Zayn asked me.

"No, that was just a couple days off. It wasn't summer break."

"Oh, alright."

"How are you feeling?" Louis asked, shooting me a worried glare from where he was sat. I knew why he asked; the whole Jacob thing, the whole cutting thing.

"Fine, thanks," I mumbled, taking another bite. I looked up at Harry who's plate was empty as he got up, walking over to the dish washer and putting his plate in before walking upstairs. I heard his bedroom door shut and I sighed.

"He's just in a bad mood. Ignore him," Niall huffed, rolling his eyes as he took another bite in to his dinner.

"It's my fault," I muttered.

"It isn't, Mica, don't say that. He's just a bit upset that you'd try it again, y'know?" Zayn said, tripping over his words as if desperately trying to find something to say that would make me feel better.

It didn't.

"Try what?" Liam asked, eyes shooting between Zayn and I.

"Nothing," I mumbled before finally lifting my head up and looking around at the four boys, only to find that all eyes were on me. 

I sat uncomfortably as they all continued to awkwardly stare between me and each other, whilst playing with my now cold food with my fork.

"You should talk to him," Louis suggested, sounding proud with his decision.

"He won't wanna talk to me."

"Just try him."

"Bu-"

"Go!" Zayn and Louis both ordered in sync, eyes wide and voices serious.

I sighed and got up, walking up the stairs and leaving my plate on the table for the bossy boys to clean up themselves. I slowly made my way over to the room Harry was staying in. I stared at the door; I was afraid to knock. I didn't know why, though. I didn't wanna see his disappointed face staring at me, his eyes shooting between both my wrists, and his tired sighs as if he was so sick of me.

He was so sick of me.

Though, I knocked anyway. I heard some noises and a slight thump sound before Harry's voice ran though, "Come in."

Slowly, I lifted my hand to the door handle and pushed the door open, my hands shaking and sweating. Harry was just pulling a hoodie down his torso before he sat on his bed, and instantly I was confused. It was summer, and it wasn't only warm in my house; it was hot. It was annoyingly hot. It was walk around in a bikini hot.

"Are you cold?" I asked, my eyebrows furrowed together.

He was looking at his phone, then sighed, slipping it into his pocket. "N- yeah... I am."