Fiendish

Chapter 42

Keep it one hundred girl I ain't no saint, but he the only reason that I'm feeling this way.

-Bryson Tiller, Don't

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Carmen's Pov.

I was stopped at a red light and was trying to calm down. I didn't know what was wrong with Harry and to be quite honest, I was scared to find out. The light turned green and I accelerated onward. My hands were shaking madly and I had to refrain myself from picking up my phone and calling Harry. He hung up on me when I was hoping he'd stay on the phone until I got there. I called him back a few times, but he didn't answer.

Why, Harry? What have you gotten yourself into? Why are you at the university? God, I feel like I'm going to vomit.

I got to the school after when felt like hours of driver. It always seemed as if when you're rushing somewhere, it took forever to get to your destination.

I drove through the parking lot until I spotted Harry's vehicle. I hurried and parked my car next to his and hopped quickly out. Some people were milling around the property, but paid no attention to me as I hurried around my car to Harry's.

"Harry." I called his name through his tinted window. Worry laced my voice and I went for the door handle. I pulled and swung it open. I stepped toward Harry and took his hand in mine.

"Harry?" I practically whispered his name and my heart ached.

Harry's eyes were red, as was the tip of his cheeks and his neck. His eyes were glossed over and he held a cigarette between his fingers. I squeezed Harry's hand, hopping he would look at me or return the grip on my hand. He didn't do either. He took another drag of his cigarettes, letting the toxic fumes fill his lungs.

"Harry? What's going on?" I asked and he didn't answer. He didn't answer. He continued to stare straight ahead. Harry's eyes held a far off look to them and I didn't know what to say. I was just about to open my mouth and ask something stupid like, 'Are you okay?', but Harry spoke up, surprising me.

"You know that feeling you get," Harry began, his voice cracking and thick with emotion. "When...you don't know what the fuck to do and you feel like throwing up?"

No, I didn't know. I couldn't even begin to understand what Harry was talking about or what he was feeling.

"Harry, what's going on?" I asked, trying my best to keep my voice calm. As soon as I asked that question, Harry went mute once again. "Harry, w-why are you here? What's going-"

"I saw my fucking mother, Carmen." Harry told me and my words froze on my tongue. I should have guessed it and my heart went out to Harry. Why would he come here? I thought he didn't want to see her; I thought he didn't want to talk to her.

"Will you please tell me what happened?" I asked in a low voice. I didn't want to upset him and I didn't want to force him into telling me.

"You don't have to talk about if you're not ready to." I told him and, finally, Harry's once limp hand tightened around mine. He pulled me to him and I stepped into his car. Harry's hands went to my waist and sat me on his lap. I blushed at the position I was in and pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. Harry bent over and closed the door and relaxed back into his seat.