Twist Of Fate

S'mores

"Mus, we're making s'mores, want to join?" Kate asks, popping her head into my room. I divert my gaze from the ceiling to her face, and shake my head.
"No thanks, I'm good." I say, my eyes landing back on the ceiling.
"Are you sick?" I shake my head.
"I'm fine. Just want to be left alone," I murmur. "Go and enjoy yourself."
"Okay." Kate says slowly. "But if you feel like joining us soon, feel free to come out into the backyard." I nod my head and hear the room door shut. Another tear - one out of a hundred - trickles down the side of my face, and lands on the tear-stained bed sheet. With the palm of my right hand I wipe my wet face. There's really no point in doing so because it'll be stained with tears again. Suddenly, my phone starts to ring, startling me. I roll onto my side, and pick it up.
"Hi, mama." I say, accepting the call. I have a separate ringtone for her, so I don't need to check the caller id when she calls.
"Hey, Mouse!" Mama yells in my ear. Usually her high spirits lift mine, if and when I'm ever sad. However, today I don't think anything's going to work.
"How're you? Long time no talk." I turn back over on my back and stare at the ceiling.
"I'm good, Mouse. What about you? Tell me all about what's been going on in college so far."
"Nothing much. Lectures, assignments, more assignments." I roll my eyes.
"Hey! No negative thinking, or pushing negative vibes toward your college work."
"Sorry," I mumble.
"What else, Mouse? Come on, there must be a lot more to tell me, right?"
"Not really, ma. Plus, I'm not really in the mood to talk now. Long day."
"Oh." I can tell that her mother buzzer has gone off, and she knows something's off. "What's wrong, Mouse?"
"N-Nothing," I stutter hastily. "Just tired."
"Something's not right, and I can tell. Stop lying!" Mama scolds me.
"I'm not! Ma, I need to finish off another college assignment. Can we please talk later?" I can bet she has heard the hint of begging in my tone.
"Okay." Ma says, drawing out the word. "But if anything is wrong, feel free to tell me, okay?"
"Yeah, I will." I clear my throat. "Bye, take care. Love you."
"Love you too, babe. Bye," mama says. "Tell me if something's wrong!"
"Yeah, I will, don't worry." I end the call and throw my phone back on the bed. I need to go down sometime, but I don't want to do so right now. I'm a coward, and it's horrible of me to be okay being one. Sighing, I sit up and pass a hand through my hair.
"You can do it," I murmur. Huffing, I get off the bed, and pull my shirt down to cover my bare stomach. Lying in bed often makes my bra change position, my shirt ride up my stomach, and the legs of my pants roll up, too. It's honestly very frustrating. The worst part of this whole situation is that I feel like I'm the bad guy, even though I know I've done the right thing. What I've done is in Harry's best interests, and...not mine, actually. When you love someone, or something, you're supposed to set them free, right? That's what I've done. Yet I'm so damn selfish that I want to rush into Harry's arms, and beg him to take me back. God, I'm desperate and confused. Help me, I mentally cry out.
"These taste great!" I hear Niall yell from downstairs and then a door slams shut. Gosh, they're back. It's my house and I'm right. Therefore, there's nothing to be afraid or ashamed about. Nothing, whatsoever. This is probably why mama warned me to stay away from the hassle of relationships. When I met Harry and when he told me that he likes me, all of mama's words sounded like crap. Now, they sound logical and right. I step out of my room door and shut it behind me gently, so as not to make a sound. In my sock-clad feet, I tip-toe down the stairs. This is another time that I'm not listening to mama. She says never to wear socks on the stairs. However, I am never one to listen to her warnings. I bend down a little, so that I can see through the railings if anyone's in the hallway. So far, the coast is clear. Finally, I reach the last step and run into the kitchen. I feel like a goddamn robber. In my own house!
"Hey, Mus!" Niall says, entering the kitchen through the backdoor. There's a plate in his right hand, piled high with s'mores.
"Hi," I murmur.
"Come with me," Niall grabs hold of my hand.
"Where?" I ask, trying to tug my hand out of his tight grasp.
"To the lounge. Everyone's in there and ready to dig into these fresh s'mores." Niall holds the plate up and smiles. "Especially, me."
"Niall, I don't want to. Please don't," I tug at my hand again. However, my efforts are in vain.
"Nonsense! What's a party without the host?"
"Niall, listen!" However, Niall, apparently, doesn't want to. He keeps dragging me toward the lounge. What's up with these boys and them tugging me into situations I don't want to be in? I hate it. Niall pulls me into the lounge, and I keep my eyes downcast.
"You can go and sit in Harry's lap, as always. Just don't make out, we're eating." Niall says, pushing me toward where Harry's sitting. I can see his boots. For some reason, my eyes refuse to remove their gaze from the floor.
"Sit with me, for once!" Kate exclaims, grabbing my hand and pulling me down on the sofa beside her. A plate of s'mores, and marshmallows is shoved onto my lap. The smell is heavenly, so I dig in.
"Great fire place out back, Mus." Liam says, and I look up to find his mouth stuffed with food.
"Thanks," I murmur.
"Seriously, anytime you guys want to make s'mores, enjoy a night around the campfire, or roast marshmallows, just come over." Kate says, as if it's her house. I don't mind, though. I only mind the arrival of one person and I think he knows it, too.
"I-I don't think we'll be coming back to Germantown for a long time," Harry says. His voice is so down in the dumps that my eyes automatically meet his. Forget his voice, Harry looks so bad. I don't know how a person can seem so weak after only a few hours. He was fine before, but he isn't right now. His face seems to have lost light, and so do his eyes. Harry's gaze burns holes into my face and body. I hate the power he has over me. I will not succumb. Suddenly, I realize that Harry's not holding a plate and neither is his mouth full with food, like the others. I lean into Kate.
"Please make a plate for Harry and give it to him." I whisper in her ear.
"Why?" Kate says, loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. I place my index finger over my lips to shush her. "Do it yourself. Heck, why doesn't he do it?" This time she whispers.
"Please." I plead her with my eyes. "For me." Sighing, Kate gets up. She picks up a clean plate, spoons out five marshmallows, two s'mores and some extra chocolate syrup.
"Here, Harry." Kate says, holding the plate out for him to take.
"No, thanks, Kate. I'm fine," Harry says. He gives her a weak smile. A smile that hurts my heart. Harry's smiles are always full of life and they're contagious like Niall's. However, today his smile is forced and barely there. She moves the plate further toward Harry.
"Come on, take it. Otherwise, some people will keep bothering me," Kate insists. Not very subtly, Kate looks toward me, and then back at Harry. His eyes meet mine again, and a smile - sad, but a better one then the last - adorns his face.
"Then, some people should come themselves. I prefer first-hand delivery, not second-hand." Harry says, speaking each word at me.
"Look, just take the damn plate, so that I can finish my own food." Kate places the plate on his lap and heads back toward me.
"Thanks anyway, Kate." Harry stresses on her name, but I know who the thanks is directed at and so does she.
"Fuck this." I murmur, getting up and marching out of the lounge.