i'm dead | harry styles

chapter eight

Sorry for the cover changing. I just have so many and I like them all. (I get tired of them easily.)

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"I'm fine! I'm fine!" I yell at the guy, desperately. Looking over his shoulder, I realize Harry's gone.

"You scraped your knee." The tanned guy points out.

I look down at the wound and gag, "Shit."

Feeling like a cripple as I walk with a limp, the stranger with pretty blue eyes and brown hair, helps me toward an ambulance. I've said no so many times since it's just a wound with blood running down my leg (no big deal). I really need to find Him. Who's Chelsea? Why did he run off like that?

"She has an open wound. It can get infected." The guy says to the nurse inside the opened ambulance.

"Whoa, crybaby." A girl inside the ambulance mocks, breathing from an oxygen mask. Sounding like an old lady. I guess she fainted by the hot weather and being crowded by sweaty bodies. Or being rude takes a lot of her energy.

I decide to ignore her as I'm pulled in and sat down. As I'm being treated I see the stranger still there as if he's waiting for something.

"You can go now." I smile at him.

He doesn't say anything back. Maybe he didn't hear me. When the nurse finishes with me, I get out of the ambulance and I cross my arms against my chest, feeling my knee sting every step I take.

"I'm Charles."

"Bonnie." I say, looking for Harry.

"Are you looking for someone?"

"Well, I'm babysitting this guy and he's a pain in the ass."

"He can't be worse than my friends. I lost 'em like thirty minutes ago and they're not answering their phones."

"I'll help you look for your friends, if you help me look for mine."

"Okay." He says, "Describe this bloke."

I picture Harry on the lake at the time when the sun was hitting his face and the leaves were falling on him. Red cheeks, jaded eyes, pale lips.

"His eyes are green," I start by saying, a smile playing on my lips. "Not too green. He's tall, like very tall, his hair is like..." Charles is giving me a look. Blush creeps from my neck to my cheeks and I clear my throat. "He's wearing a black t-shirt and ripped jeans."

"You like this guy."

I snort, "Not really."

Twenty minutes of walking under the sun, we find Harry alone in the crowd, his hands inside his pockets and shoulders raised up to his ears. He looks awkward and I notice Charles containing a laugh.

"Harry," I touch him and he turns to me. "What's wrong with you? You can't keep running off like that."

He parts his lips and then closes his mouth when he notices Charles.

"Come on, we need to find Charles' friends." I hold his hand, pulling him with me.

He wouldn't speak to me, no matter how many questions I ask him. Charles even tried speaking to him, but he would just look down. Doesn't matter how good he is hiding his emotions, I can tell he's sad.

Charles' friends are two men that love beers - and love each other. We stand all together while everyone else begin to jump to the beat. Charles' watch marks three in the afternoon and Harry won't still speak to me.

"Would you excuse us?" I say, pulling Harry somewhere else. "What's wrong with you?"

"It wasn't her."

"Who?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Do you want to leave?" I pick up his chin, he closes his eyes.

"Ever since I got here, Bonnie." This stings me. I really hoped for a good time.

"Okay, we'll leave. Where do you want to go?"

"Anywhere quiet really." He avoids eye contact.

"Okay." I nod, "But can I hold your hand? I'm afraid you'll leave me again." I smile a little.

He doesn't respond, but I hold it anyway.

"I think it's time for us to hit another town."

"Oh you two are on a road trip?" Charles asks.

"Yeah. It was nice meeting you lots."

"Hey, um," Charles takes out his phone. "Can I have your number?"

"I broke my phone this morning." I bite my bottom lip. "It's not an excuse. I swear. I was mad - not that I have short temper-"

"Just ask for his number." Harry whispers behind me.

"Um, can I have yours?"

Charles blinks, "Sure."

___

"Scott, then Charles. Each town we stop at, you find someone."

"You're just mad because you didn't find Chelsea."

I'm the one driving, following the signs to take us somewhere else.

"When I touched her, she turned around and it wasn't her. She had the same red hair, brown eyes, freckles, but it wasn't her." He says, vaguely as if he's remembering when it happened.

"Who is this Chelsea anyways?" I smirk. "An old lover? A crush?"

"I'll tell you the things you need to know for my book. Nothing more."

"Ouch, H. I thought we were friends. You can tell me. You know about Matty and me-"

"Because you're very open about it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That your life is public, princess. I've known you all my life. And you didn't even know it. What you said yesterday about your parents I already knew it. I knew already that your family and you are the richest people in town. Sorry to rain on your parade, but the things you were sharing with me yesterday were old news, they weren't special." He continues, "I don't like you. Didn't like you before and after I met you. How do you think I stand you? Because I need your talent. I'm using you the way you're using me, so I don't feel like talking about my personal stuff."

I stop the car on the stopping lane of the highway. I turn off the engine. I meet his unexpected dark eyes.

"You're so mean. So angry." I say, my hands are shaking. "Angry at yourself! This is all part of your disorder shit, isn't it? Do I have to swallow it and continue like nothing happened? Because I don't even know how to deal with retarded people. Especially when they think they're dead. I don't know if you mean to be like the way you are to me, but I still stand you, fucktard. Because I'm not using you anymore. Actually, I like going to new places with you. Every town is an inspiration for this stupid book!"

His eyes widen, and I notice his chest raising and falling, hard.

"Sorry for trying to be your friend. The only one you'd have in your life." I add.

"I'd be your only one, too."

"I have friends." I laugh.

He leans toward me, eyes squinting, noses almost touching.

"Did they ring you when you left?"

"That's it." I grit my teeth. "We're going to a new town in Scotland so I can write how much you suck!"

His lips almost touch mine and a small, soft gasp leave my mouth. He was just leaning closer to twist the keys and turn the truck again on. I look at his long fingers touching the keys and feel his breath on my cheek.

"Let's."