The Trouble With Us

nineteen

Harry's P. O. V.

I missed her. I don't know why, but I did. I haven't seen her in six years, and I didn't know that she would have changed this much. When I saw her at the party... time, my mind...basically my life stopped right before my very eyes. She was, and is, absolutely gorgeous, she's like something that could only be dreamed of. We spent some time together on Monday which gave me the advantage of getting to know her older, mature side. I wanted to kiss her so bad, it was like a natural instinct to me, but there was always a nagging thought about what Zach would do if he found out. She hadn't lost her entertaining sense of humour, wit, and kindness. And then I went on this camping trip, it was only for a few days but I missed her dearly. She will never know this however, because she is simply too good for me. I don't know where these sudden feelings and urges have come from, but I can't get rid of them. The urge to just hold her, be with her, kiss her; she is on my mind all of the time. I now watch her stand next to me, asking me how my trip was. It was good of course, apart from the girls who were idiotic and incredibly promiscuous; nothing compared to Olivia. I watch her closely, I just can't stop staring at her. I pick my phone up again, glancing at her again before I unlock my phone; she looks frustrated.

As I dial the number in to listen to my voice mails I watch Olivia to see that she begins to panic? What is going on...?

She tries time and time again to yank my phone out of my hands, but I'm too tall for her and easily hold it above her reach. I hold the phone against my ear and watch as she turns more aggravated. What the hell has gotten into her?

"Harry hang up! Now! Put the f*cking phone down." She shouts, her voice so off that it almost scares me.

"Olivia what the hell is wrong? I'm just listening to my voice mails it's no big deal-"

"Harry..."

And then I stop, because a desperate call for my name echoes through the phone speaker. It sounds so lost, so scared, so sad. It's Olivia. Everything around me disappears, all of my surroundings. My sole focus is on Olivia, speaking to me, crying to me through the phone. She sounds so upset that it makes the hairs on my arms rise.

"Harry...you know what? You wanna know something pathetic? I like you. And I've liked you ever since I was eleven.

This can't be real. I can't believe this.

"Ever since you've called me 'little Livvie', ever since you've referred to me as a little sister. When I heard you were coming back I was over the moon. And then the party came and then I went out and bought this nice outfit JUST for you Harry. I put in my best effort to look nice for you because I thought I had a chance. That's why I was so upset too by the way, because I walked down the stairs and thought that you were going to kiss my best friend. The other day up at the waterfall? What was that about? I feel like we had a good time and then I get a text from some girl tonight off your phone who has sent me a picture of a naked girl on your lap! What the hell Harry! My brother was right, I should have stayed away from you."

Someone was texting her off my phone? What picture? What the f*ck?

"You sucked me in and have spat me out. I feel embarrassed and humiliated because I thought maybe there could have...could have been a chance between us or I don't know, I sound f*cking stupid and now here I am at lord knows what time in the morning calling you because I hate you and you've made me a very fragile person Harry. Am I just another toy for you to play with? Because I don't want to be, so don't bother talking to me ever again."

And then it's over. I look up to see where Olivia was once standing and see that she has gone. I'm frozen in place, chilled to the bone. Olivia has had feelings for me for six long years and I didn't have a single clue. I feel gutted, I feel confused, and I feel sick. What picture was she talking about? I scroll through my message log with her to find that someone had been texting her. I'm betting it was Naomi. I find the picture before I read the texts. I physically gag when I see the picture. When the f*ck was this taken? I zoom in and realise that it was taken when I was asleep, but it doesn't look like it since my face is blurred out. The other girl...Zoe I think her name was, is sitting nude on top of me. My vision goes red with anger. This is all of those b*tches faults. She even had the nerve to place my hand on her breast. I feel the bile rise in my throat. I need to explain to Olivia what happened, and I need to do it now. I can't believe she was acting so calm before...when I was so unaware of what happened.

Olivia's P.O.V

"Harry please hang up." I whisper, feeling a burn in my throat.

I can't watch him listen to it, I feel my eyes begin to water and soon enough there are multiples tears running down my cheeks. I don't know what I said while I was drunk on the phone, but I know it's not f*cking good. His perfect face is almost unreadable, but I can tell he is incredibly confused; I don't blame him. Meanwhile, I'm feeling like I'm going to throw up. I watch his knuckles whiten as he tightens his grip on his phone, his jaw clenching.

I turn on my heel and storm out of the kitchen, upstairs to my room, and lock the door. I rest my back on the door and slide down onto the ground in a crumpled heap, I can't help it anymore. Uncontrollable sobs fall; fall deeply from my burning throat. Out of anything that could happen between us, it has to be something stupid like this. The worst part is, I don't even know what I said. My brother is still in the bathroom, thank god. I can still hear the water running from the shower. I try to stop crying but as soon as I think of the picture I begin to cry again, I just can't stop. As I try to calm down and control my hysterical breathing, I hear footsteps coming up the stairs, and they stop right outside my door. I try my hardest to keep quiet but it's too difficult. I hear him put his hands gently on the door, I can hear his heavy breathing. I wait for a gentle knock on the door, but it never comes. I hear him sigh deeply, and then he leaves the hallway. His distant footsteps are the only reassurance I have to know that he is back down stairs, followed by a loud slam of the front door.

What have I done?