Which Direction? {A Frat Boy Harry Fanfiction}

Chapter 21

"Yeah I do," he said calmly. I closed my eyes.

"It's kind of a long story..." 

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A string of spanish swear words were exchanged between my mom and my dad. My mom's bun had come undone and was now stuck to her face with nervousness. Her lips were quivering, my dad rumbling with hurtful words.

"You're going to wake up the kids!" just as my mom spoke with her strong comeback, my brother ran down the stairs to me. I enveloped him in my arms, cradling his jerking breath.

"Shhhh Adan. They're just fighting," I held his head close to my chest, "It's going to be fine. Go back to bed--"

"I don't give a shit about the kids. ¡No quiero que los niños!" 

The tears were falling from my blinking eyes, like they did everynight. Like they did everytime they fought like this. I hated it, I hated the thought that I was crying. I hate the way one human being could make me cry so hard. I stared up at the peeling ceiling, in a lame attempt to blink back the stinging tears. But nothing helped. Lately it's been more and more often. I would always sit here hidden on the steps of the stairs, praying for it to end. I never liked it when they woke up Adan, that's how I knew things were getting bad.

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I don't know why I found the need to tell Harry, I don't know why I even thought he would listen. But he did. He listened to me start at the very beginning, from the time the very first fight had happened. To the last time, the one memory that always came back to me, like just now. I thought I would burst into tears at any moment, but I didn't. After everything I've been through, it's gonna take a lot more out of me to make me cry.

"Chelsea I--" 

"I don't want your pity Harry. I've gotten enough pity. I've grown from it. It's not that I'm glad it happened. But it's made me who I am today," my personal life spilled from my lips unwillingly. 

"I've always known you were different Chelsea," his voice was barely a whisper. I smiled, it was one of the most genuine things someone has ever said to me. It's always been, "Are you okay?" "I'm so sorry!" "You must've had things so hard." 

"Well yeah. And that's the last time." 

"What?" he asked confused.

"That was the last fight. That night he left..." 

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"Theresa Florentina Sofia Garcia!" my dad's heavy spanish accent was thick from always switching back and forth between the two languages. I was raised with Spanish, and only Spanish. But Adan wasn't. Ever since my brother began to talk, my parents were too busy fighting to work together to teach him a language. I had to teach him. 

My mom backfired spitting spanish into his face. He knew he was defeated, that she wasn't going to take this any longer. I was scared, I was petrified. But more than that, I was proud. I was proud that my mom was finally talking back to him and standing up for herself. 

"I'm sick and tired of this. I want you out! I want you out of this house by the end of the night," her voice was low with every tremble, "I'm serious." 

My dad's hands unclenched, his breathing was slower. He closed his eyes. Just when I thought it was over, I saw my dad's large hand lift up. His palm made contact with my mom's pale face in an instant. Her inferior hands threw themselves up in pain to examine the welt, but by then my dad was gone. He had turned in his place and stormed to his room to pack up. He was listening to her. 

She had gotten hurt. Not just this time, but many times. And in that moment sitting and comforting my little brother I made a promise to myself. I would never, ever let a guy hurt me. 

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"And that was it?" Harry asked his eyes still full of concern, "You never heard from him again?"

"Nope," I said taking the last bite of my sandwich sloppily, "and I never plan to." 

"Something tells me--"

"What?"

"Nevermind." 

"Harry, tell me," my tone harsh, before I could catch myself. 

"No it's nothing. It's just something tells me that you've never really talked about it before," he shrugged shyly not wanting to anger me.

"It's true," I whispered, "You're actually the first person." 

"And what about your brother?" he asked. 

"Still with my mom."

"Oh, so you're still close to your mom then," he asked casually.

"No," my eyes fluttered with agitation, "I'm not." 

"Why no-" 

"Ever since the whole college idea came up. Let's just say--" I paused to take a deep breath, "--we were never really on the same page." 

"But she eventually let you go?"

"No well, I kind of just left," he was speechless. He brought his elbows to rest up on the small table, unable to fathom words to say. I shook my head at the awkardness, "Anyways..." 

"Anyways..." He rolled his head to look up at the sky before his mouth pulled into a cheeky grin, "C'mon! I wanna show you something." The small napkin was ripped off my lap, his hand pulling me up from my seat. He ran me across the hard deck. We were moving. The boat was moving. I can't believe I hadn't even noticed it before, that we were moving. I looked behind me, the shore was no longer in sight. 

"Harry-" 

"Shhh c'mon!" he said still pulling me along chuckling. He finally stopped at the other end of the boat. He placed my hands gently on the stocky, white railing in front of us. This end of the boat was just as nice as the other. His hands let go of mine as he looked over the edge.

The sun was just meeting the horizon, at a splotch of purple and orange. The milky shades of blue were surrounding all the edges, with clouds dotted in between. It was magnificant. The last bit of shine from the sun was evident as we stood in silence.

"Isn't it--"

"--amazing?" I finished for him under my breath. I looked over at him, as he slid his hand over mine on the railing. The warmth from his hand was comforting my edginess from remembering my past. We were both looking out at the sunset before us. I never thought anything like this would ever happen to me. I never thought that I'd be leaving my little town, and be here on a boat with Harry. Harry. 

By the time the sun had set, we had gradually moved closer together. He snaked his strong arm around my waist, pulling me in closer to him. His body heat was keeping me warm from the wind that was beginning to pick up. 

"Harry. This was amazing," I whispered afraid to not let anything ruin the moment. 

"I'm glad," he said, "I don't know if this is what dates are supposed to be like--feel like. But if they are, then I want to do it with you again...and again." 

"Are you asking me out again?" I asked turning myself around from under his grasp to face him. He placed his other hand lightly onto my hip, holding me inches from himself. 

"Was I?" his smirk was evident. But before I could playfully slap him, he crushed his soft lips into mine. The darkness of the sky and stars gradually starting to luminate above us, setting up the scene for the perfect kiss. His hand slowly moved to feel the sides of my body, my own fingers instantly pressing to his mess of hair. His supple lips bent onto mine, caressing. I could feel the eagerness in his lips, his tongue asking me for entrance. I happily obliged, parting my lips slightly to allow him. His sweet, nervous tongue danced along my inner mouth. I followed his motions. I giggled against the feeling, the best feeling. 

"What was that for?" I asked him once he slowly pulled away, trying to hide the smile on his face. 

"That was for opening up to me," he placed a chaste kiss to my forehead, "And for making this one of the best nights of my life."