Back To December

sixteen

"Thanks for meeting me, Cassidy."

"It's fine, I figured we should talk, anyway," I smiled, pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite her, Starbucks being unusually empty for lunchtime on a Saturday. I did a double take when I saw her hair. "Soph! Your hair, it's black!"

"Mhmm," she smiled nervously and taking a sip of her drink – hot chocolate, I could smell it. "Is it… Does it look okay? I got it done yesterday afternoon…"

"It looks amazing, wow!" I reached out to touch it. "It's really nice, I like it. It suits you!" I smiled reassuringly at her. She shrugged her shoulders and stared into the mug in her hands. I sighed, running a hand through my hair and waiting for her to speak.

It had been almost two weeks since 'Harry-gate', as Zayn was calling it – he's the only person I'd told about what had happened – and even though I'd text and rang Sophie a few times, she hadn't got back to me until last night, when she asked me to meet her today. Harry had avoided me as much as possible and, to be honest, I was getting a bit pissed off with it all. "So," I looked at her. "How come you're in London?"

"Just to see you," she shrugged her shoulders and I nodded, pursing my lips together as I wondered what it was that I'd supposedly done wrong, and wondering why she'd called if she was going to be this way with me.

"Look, Soph, have I done something to you?"

"What? No, why?" she scrunched her face up in confusion and I smiled at the guy who placed my chai tea latte in front of me.

"You've avoided me for two weeks, Harry's avoided me for two weeks. You finally call me back and it's like you don't even want to be here, like someone's holding a gun to your head forcing you to be polite." I raised eyebrow.

"I just…" Sophie sighed, running a hand through her shiny hair. "I know you're not going to like what I have to say, that's all…" she paused, and I took a sip of my drink as I waited for her to continue. "You and Louis… It's real, right? You love him, he loves you."

"Yes."

"There's no chance of you changing your mind and falling for, I don't know… Harry?"

"What? No," I snorted.

"Well in that case, you might want to tell Harry that," Sophie scoffed. "He's- when I was there the other week, how much of our conversation did-"

"Argument." I interrupted.

"Disagreement," she corrected, narrowing her eyes. "How much of it did you hear?"

"Enough."

"He- we- I think I like him, Cass," Sophie sighed loudly. "I thought he liked me, too. But when he realised you'd stayed, when we woke up that morning… He turned into this big jealous mess, going on about if I thought you'd heard us, if you knew I was there, if you'd mind that we'd slept together. I kept trying to change the subject but he always brought it back to you."

"That's not my fault," I mumbled. "Is that why you've been ignoring me? I warned you not to get involved with Harry. He's a nice guy, I love him because he's one of my best friends, but he's a whore. I told you that."

"I've spoken to him, Cass. I've been speaking to him a lot this past week," she admitted and I couldn't help feeling jealous. So they'd talk to each other, but neither of them would talk to me? Fine. Bitches. "Do you and Louis really have to rub your relationship in Harry's face? How's he supposed to get over you if you're there all the time?"

"We're not- he's not- he said he was happy for us!"

"Yeah okay," Sophie rolled her eyes. "He is happy for you, but he's fucking heartbroken too, Cassidy. He's still in love with you. He still wants to be your friend too, but you're always with Louis and he's starting to resent you both, no matter how much he tries to hide it. I can tell."