Rylie's POV
By Monday, I was nervous. Harry and I have actually only spent a few days as friends and one or two days of us ignoring each other. Besides that, we were together. I wasn't sure how it would go with the "just friends" thing. I have avoided texting him unless it was important. When I do text him, I would delete the texts before my parents could check my phone.
I raised my hand and knocked on the door. Instead of Harry opening it like I had expected him to, Gemma did instead. She looked stressed and I was sure it was because of wedding plans. I wasn't sure why she was planning so early if she didn't expect to have the wedding until a year or so from now.
"Hey Rylie," Gemma whispers, pulling me into a hug. She surprised me yet again. "I am sorry. I am so confused," she added, pulling away and rubbing her forehead.
I didn't have to get to Harry just yet, I suppose. I sat down onto the couch and motioned for her to take a seat beside me.
"What's wrong?" I ask, raising a brow.
"Will wants me to move back to England with him when he goes back. If I do, I won't be able to come back to America for a year or so from now. That will be around the wedding time," Gemma explains. I should have known it was something more than just wedding plans.
"You should go Gemma. He is your husband-to-be," I say, smiling.
"I want to go, I really do. But I will miss Harry and you," she whispers, chewing on the bottom of her lip.
I half smiled and murmured, "Gemma that is what Skype is for. I am sure Harry will be fine with it too."
Gemma still looks uncertain. "Do you really think I should?" she finally whispered.
I only nod and a smile slowly slips onto her face. She pulls me into another hug. "Thanks Rylie, you are the best made of honor ever," she whispered.
Gemma left to go and tell Will the good news. I went to Harry's room to find him slumped over a textbook with a pen in his hand. He looked so cute when he looked deep in thought. I fake a cough and Harry raises his head up to look over at me.
"Oh hey Rylie, I didn't know you were here," Harry said, closing the book and placing the pen in a cup.
I go over to his desk and read the cover. "Physics, nice," I say, a smile naturally slipping onto my face when I am around Harry.
"Yeah, just college work," Harry states, making a face.
I picked up my guitar and sat down on his bed. I shouldn't be so comfortable around him, but I was.
"Ready to get this show on the road?"
Harry picks up his own guitar and sits down beside me. "That line is the oldest in the book," he scoffs.
I roll my eyes and turn so I am facing him. "Now, let's begin with the simplest chords," I instruct. I place my fingers on my guitar and Harry mimics me. I strum a few and wait for him to repeat it. His were unturned, but better than nothing. I reached over to tune his guitar.
"You are a prodigy," I praise, half smiling.
"A prodigy? I don't know anything about these things."
"Don't call guitars 'things'. You will hurt its feelings," I tease, nudging him.
The familiar smile of his spreads across his face. The rest of the lesson went well. It could have went better if Harry would have stopped joking around. I actually liked the fact he joked around with me though. It would have been boring if it had just been us sitting there strumming the guitars.
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Reasons
FanfictionRylie was a normal kid; she grew up in a normal family. Well, if you could even say it was an average family. She was an obedient teenager. She listened to her parents and did her best to stay out of trouble. But then Harry came into her life. They...