Broken Defender

Chapter Twenty-Three ~ Hate & Hormones

It seemed like yesterday changed everything. After our little encounter with my mother, she had become overbearingly opinionated when it came to how I was to spend my time. She had not forbidden Harry like I was frightened she would, no she actually thought it good that I was becoming social... but she wanted to make sure I was making the right decisions. To her, he didn't seem to be the right decision. She blamed him for my hormonal actions... in her eyes his conduct had been completely unacceptable. And maybe it was unacceptable... maybe had he been some other guy I would have pushed him away. But this was Harry, and for some reason I wasn't sure how that made a difference, but it did.

You're being irresponsible. She had shouted at me.

I could remember the tone in her voice perfectly... it still rang in my ears loud and clear.

You're both at an extremely hormonal time in life, and you have to be careful.

Careful. She wants me to be careful. What did she even mean by that word? She said it so forcefully, as though I were some stupid ordinary teenaged girl who let boys do whatever they wanted with me. I was careful. I am careful. Sometimes I feel as though I'm the most mature girl in school... but then I guess shewould see him as threatening. Mom doesn't know him at all... not like I do. He doesn't scare me like he scares her. He's sweet, and caring, and thoughtful, and everything I want him to be. And he loves me... and I love him. This can work. I know it can.

My mom's interruption of our fickle romance wasn't the only thing different about today though. School was different too. Harry and I sat alone again; like we had the day prior... and Zayn seemed anything but happy with this new arrangement. He seemed a bit infuriated actually, and he expressed only hostility toward the two of us while Harry was quick to express equal hostility in return. All day they fired insults at each other, some of them seemed stupid to me, yet somehow both Zayn and Harry found insult and disgust in each one. Only one insult had seemed the most lethal, and maybe that was because it included me.

Hey prick! Zayn had called after him in the hallway.

Harry stiffened instantly. His grip around my waist tightened as he turned to look at Zayn over his shoulder.

That little bitch o' yours better be good enough in bed to make up for her shitty face. I recalled him say.

A laugh pulled the corners of his lips into a brutish smile, and I felt like the elevator in my stomach had just plummeted twenty feet. That degenerate remark made Harry's face fall as he looked at me through the corner of his eye, hoping that I had not been too badly affected by Zayn's words.

Go fuck yourself Zayn. Harry had jabbed right back.

Go fuck your slut. Zayn retorted.

Harry was already prepared to snap at that time, and all I could do was calm him. My hand gripped at his as I pulled him along down the hallway, hoping he would ignore Zayn's remarks.

Please, don't. I whispered.

Like the previous day in the cafeteria, he seemed to find tranquility in my words, and he took a big breath, closing his eyes as his nostrils flared in fury. His teeth braced tightly together as he tried to will away the natural instinct to snap, to turn and rip Zayn's face off.

It was like this all day actually. They spoke venomously to each other on and off... and I was a bit curious actually as to what went on when I wasn't around. Harry only seemed to reign in his anger when I asked him to. He never approached Zayn at all when I was standing by. So what level of hostility would rise up between them when I wasn't there to hold him back? What went on when we were separated?