LA to The Bay

Chapter 48: San Francisco (1)

China Town, San Francisco

I really should be enjoying San Francisco a whole lot more than I am, but my experience is being ruined simply because I'm allowing myself to wallow in self-pity by thinking about Harry, like totally all the time, and specifically the fact that I haven't seen him since we got here. Him or Louis or Lottie, Marty and Juno for that matter. But seriously, where are they? They're clearly off together enjoying themselves somewhere exclusive, just like in Las Vegas, and I was a fool to even contemplate that just because we were together these past few days that it would have any effect on the strength of their bond.

Still, if I had any of the power that he claims I do then surely we would be together now, not giving a damn what anyone else might say, and that includes ex-boyfriends and hanger on females. Yet here I am, wedged between Jayden and Stevo, as they fight over the last spring roll at the restaurant in China Town Leah has brought us to. This is karma punishing me for actually enjoying myself yesterday, isn't it? Because we all know that Niamh is not allowed to enjoy herself, so damn her for even trying.

On paper San Francisco should be great, and Leah has packed together a cool schedule of a trolley ride before dinner, a bar afterwards and then Alcatraz and a catamaran ride around the Bay tomorrow, and all in a place that is brimming with culture and buzzing with life. I should be bowled over by the fact that America actually has it in itself to be so progressive, but instead all I can muster is the idea of drowning myself in the oversized bowl of ramen I just ordered.

By the time we arrive at the uber trendy "Alchemist" bar, our evenings final destination I'm despairing and I can't believe that in less than twenty-four hours I've managed to plummet so easily from having the time of my life right back in to the depths of the abyss I have fought so hard to claw my way out of, and all because I was foolish enough to let some curly haired douche bag charm his way in to my pants. And to think that in the end he barely even had to try, I practically served myself up on a plate for him. So I've only got myself to blame, and I need shake myself up before it's too late; I'm in one of the best cities in the world, enjoying this chilled hipster enclave, so I just need to get a grip and sip down harder on this fine rioja and try to forget that Bass Lake ever even happened.

Sounds easy enough right? Well it would be if only Harry, Louis and the entourage hadn't just slinked by, finally arriving. What is it with their timing? Are they secretly hooked up and listened to my inner most ramblings and so know to pounce just as I'm managing to reclaim my self-esteem and move forward with the evening?

And a sly smile like I barely even exist is all that I get as he walks passed the table I'm sitting at with Ana and Duncan. I'm stunned as he stands at the bar, his arm around Louis, the girls looking up at them like they're some kind of God's.

'I need the toilet.' I stand up and barge passed them, not even granting them with a look. I'm such a flake, I scathe myself as I sit with my head between my legs on the toilet. I should have known that all it would take was one sulking pout from Marty and that's it, I'm thrown out to the trash like a used bin bag. Or maybe this was all part of the plan, for Harry to get what he wants from me, and then use Marty's tears as an excuse to make a quick exit?

Damn it, once again he's been listening in on my thoughts, and now as I'm standing here at the bottom of the stairs, in the cellar where the toilet is located and he's there at the top, the way his arms are crossed and his foot is tapping against the wall indicating that he's not on his own way down here; he's obviously waiting. So he just gets to ignore me one minute and lurk around stairways obviously waiting for me like I'm some closet secret.

I gulp as I contemplate my next move; I can run back in to the toilet and attempt to climb out of the window or I can battle the stairs. Both options present logistical hurdles, it's just a matter of figuring out the pros and cons of each. If I'm quick and keep my head down then the stairs is unfortunately the easiest.

'So what, you're not even going to say hello?' Harry balks at me, apparently offended as I reach for the handle of the door at the top of the stairs.

'Hello.' I speak flatly, still reaching for the handle, but he knocks my hand away.

'Is something the matter?' He sounds cross. Like what does he actually get to be cross about?

'I don't know; is there?' I look at him wide eyed with disbelief.

'Did I do something wrong?' Sensing my mood his own anger is dissipating, seemingly replaced by panic. 'Why did you ignore me this morning?'

'I didn't ignore you? When did I ever ignore you?' I'm confused that somehow the situation has turned and he's blaming me for this standoff.

'When I smiled at you this morning on the bus, you just blanked me.'

'I smiled back!'

'Barely.' Now it's his turn to speak flatly.

'Don't turn this around on me.' I snap, remembering, 'where have you been all day? Off with your bestie and girlfriends, bragging about your conquest last night?'

'No of course not, we were just having a meal together, since it's nearly the end of the trip and you must have seen that Marty was upset earlier?

'Yeah because she's in love with you.'

'Well I'm not in love with her.' He looks at me sternly, holding my gaze for a few seconds before his eyes evrntually soften. 'Plus, I'd never do that to you, why would you say such a thing?'

I look at the floor suddenly ashamed of myself. Ashamed of my overzealous imagination and that I am so quick to cast him down the path of immorality. Ashamed for being mean to him by not responding to his gesture this morning. It never occurred to me that he might need some reassurance here too.

'I'm sorry.' I look up at him. Unconsciously I've climbed the final step and we are now on the same level. There's barely inches between us and I'm suddenly understanding the meaning behind the need to take a cold shower, for that is exactly what I need right now. Every time I'm near him it's the same thing; the same rush of adrenaline and the need to touch him. I reach to his hair and he lowers his mouth to mine, both of us desperate to re-unite and validate the strength of our escalating feelings for each other.

'What the hell?' The door pushes open and Harry is knocked to the side whilst I'm forced back down a few steps. 'Is something going on here?' The voice stammers and it takes me a few seconds to process that Louis is standing in the doorway. 'Seriously, can someone actually tell me what his going on here?' I can't tell if he's panicking or angry.

'I'm so sorry man.' Harry is stuttering and I brace myself for what he is about to tell Louis; that it was all me, that I've thrown myself, that he had no choice, but instead he reaches his hand down to me and I stare up unsure how to react. But there's little time to contemplate as he's encouraging me back up the stairs and once there he pulls me into him, quickly wrapping his arm around me tightly.

'Niamh?' Louis's voice is quiet and trembling. 'Please tell me this isn't what I think it is? I mean, I've heard all the rumours but I didn't think it was actually true.' Rumours? 'And you've barely even bothered to hide it.'

'I can explain.' I finally speak.

'You have to know that he's just using you don't you?' He ignores my plea to explain myself, still ranting.

'That's not true man!' Harry spits, and I cling on to him, starting to worry that more than an argument is about to break out.

'He just using you,' Louise repeats, 'until he gets in to your knickers and then he'll toss you just like he always does.'

'It's not like that this time.' He's stern again, his voice even deeper than usual whilst I look at the floor again. Full of shame again.

'Oh wait, you already did?' Louis mouth falls open. 'Fucking great! Fucking great man!' He kicks at the door, finally realising the extent of our betrayal.