Love to Hate You (A Harry Styles Love Story)

Chapter 15 - That Time I Thought I Was Gonna Die

A/N: Woah okay. It’s been a while, huh? Last time I updated, it was 2012. My gawsh.

Honestly,I don't think I would have updated if it wouldn't have been for the comments on the previous chapter. You guys are so absolutely sweet and just plain fantastic. :* And a lot of you attempted to guilt trip me. And, well, after a long, long, looooong time, it worked. And seriously this time, I actually know where the story is going. How amazing is that?!!

(And I understand it's a short update. But at least it's an update.)

Well, I hope you like it??

- Autumn's Point of View - 

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Ah, the age-old question. I, as a shy tween, would shrug and try not to make eye contact with the person asking. Harry, on the other hand, would avert his eyes, cross his arms, and coolly reply.

“I’m going to be a rockstar.”

He would say it so confidently that the adults, who usually would be delighted to crush such unlikely dreams as his, would shut their mouths.

It was great that they did, considering that aspiring rockstar would actually become a rockstar. And he would owe me about £20 to this day, if I still remembered correctly. I sighed to myself as I dialed seven digits on the phone, remembering my 16-year-old self betting on Harry’s X-Factor stardom. The phone rang and rang until a groggy voice picked up.

“Hullo?” said the voice on the other end.

“Mum,” I said and hurriedly added, “sorry for waking you up. I keep forgetting the time difference!”

I questioned my own words to which my mother replied, “It’s fine, darling. I wasn’t sleeping, just a bit tired is all. Not all of us can barely lift a finger and earn this month’s rent, can we?”

Her words made me cringe, as they were so obviously directed at my father, who I had long-grown tired of blaming for not having a big happy family like in the movies. Nonetheless, I decided not to give my mother a snide remark, considering she was dangerous when she was tired and she kind of had a right to blame the guy. Cheating, even if it was years upon years ago, is not cool. If there is one thing I hate is a cheater, because being a cheater leads to being a liar.

“So, how is everyone?” I asked, attempting to change the subject.

“The usual, you know,” she said, and I could the clattering of pots and pans from the other end.

I was just about to reply when she let out an excited “except!”

“Except what?”

“Except,” I could practically hear her grinning, “that Nathan boy came by. Remember the one you used to fancy?”

“What?” I questioned, knocking over the plate of grapes that I had been fiddling with. “What did he want?”

That may have been the only question I asked aloud, but there were so many more I wanted to know:

 Does he remember me?

How does he know where I live?

and the most important question,

Does he still have that hot-as-hell body?

Mm-mm good.

My mother’s raspy voice interrupted my more perverted thoughts with something my classy side raised her glass of champagne to.