Never Meant To Be (h.s)

31. The Things We Lose

The day of Donna's party dawned, as festive as Doom's Day. It was raining, the sky so dark I'd been tricked into oversleeping. The house was quiet too. Apparently, even Freya hadn't woken up. But then again, she'd gone to sleep later than I did, Lucas keeping her company.

I reached for my phone, blinking a few times to remove the blurriness from my eyes. I had a bunch of messages from Isabelle, Amelia and some other friends. There was one from Harry, a "goodnight" message I hadn't read the night before.

I stared at the words, a moment, then another, before closing the screen, putting my phone away, and rolling away. My face buried in a pillow, I attempted to push the image of Harry's face from my mind - regular occurrence of late. The more I talked to him, unable to resist at all, the more deranged I got. I wasn't sure what it was, what it meant, how it happened - I just knew it was going to be the death of me.

After a few minutes of failed exorcism, I got out of bed. I spent a long time in the bathroom, trying to refresh myself. When I was halfway satisfied, I made my way out. It was as I walked out of the bathroom that my eye caught the clock and I read the time - two 'o' clock!

Great. I'd wasted half a day already. I was more surprised that Freya hadn't woken up since she was so much more particular about this kind of thing.

I went up to her room, pushing the door open, about to call for her to wake up when I took in the full scene - Freya, nuzzled close to Lucas, their arms around each other, and . . . and - was he naked?!

"Oh my God!" The words left my lips sharper than I'd intended and Freya stirred. Her eyes opened and she stretched, her gaze landing on me just moments later.

"Morning, Soph." She sent me a lazy smile, a sheer contrast to the grimace I had probably woken up to. "What time is it?"

"Two," I said, sharply. "In the afternoon."

Freya blinked, as if she didn't comprehend my words, before sitting up straighter. The movement had Luke moving and half a minute later, he was awake too.

Not for long.

"Hey," was the first thing the boy said. "Why're you standing their, Sophie? Come - join us." He gestured with his hand.

"No, thanks," I said drily.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side," he muttered, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"Is it really two in the afternoon?" Freya was glancing between the window, which revealed the pouring rain, and me.

"Grab a watch if you don't believe me."

I guess there was a catch in my tone because Freya looked at me and frowned. "Why're you so mad?"

"Can't exactly be happy when two of your friends are butt naked in one bed."

"Wha-?" Freya looked at me, confused, before turning to Lucas. Her eyes widened before she turned back to me. "We didn't-"

"I'm not butt-naked, Sophie," Lucas just sounded bored. "Promise." He shuffled, presumably moving out of the bed and I turned around.

"Spare me the-"

"Oh, shut up, Moore. No need to be so dramatic."

Right. Maybe that was it - me overreacting. I slowly turned back to them, keeping my gaze lowered until the final moment. Luke wasn't butt-naked but he still wasn't wearing a shirt. And all Freya was wearing over her undergarments was a sweatshirt. They weren't being entirely innocent. But what could I do about it?