Unpredictable

Chapter 5

When I woke up, I had 9 voicemails from Harry, despite the fact that he asked me to call him.

Rubbing my eyes, I listened to them.

1: "Ella? I'm really, really sorry about last night, about... Yeah. I shouldn't have tried to force you to do anything, and I shouldn't have gotten mad. Call me back, yeah?"

2: "Look, I know you're probably annoyed at me, and you should be, I'm a jerk. Which is why I'm not going to call you or ask you out again. Even though I really like you. Okay. Bye."

3: "Fuck this, actually. Seriously. Fuck. This. I like you and that's all. So please, please forgive me?"

4: "Ella? Are you mad at me? Because I said I'm sorry. And I mean it. And I promise I'll never do anything again to annoy you, I just want you to see how sorry I am."

5: "Look, I realise how... Odd I sound. But there's a reason. I swear. I can explain. Call me back, Ella, please."

By the time I got to voicemail 6, he sounded slurry and sleepy, as though he was drunk. "I like you lots lots lots. A hundred million. I think you like me as well but I don't know if you do or not and that makes me sad. Very very sad."

7: "You're pretty and small I like your hair you have scary lovely eyes but you shouldn't cover yourself up because you are a sexy pretty lady and you have nice shoes and you kiss good and I want to kiss you again and-"

8: "You're very mean not calling me back I hate hate hate you I never want to see you again. Bye bye meany lady."

9: "I think I might be drunk so I'm probably saying some stuff I'll regret. But I'm only drunk 'cos I'm sad. Goodbye."

By the end, I didn't really know what to think: he had gone from apologetic, to self-pitying, to angry, to drunk, to complimentary, to mean in the space of under five minutes. To be honest, I hadn't really been mad at him last night: he had tried to have sex with me, I

had refused, and it's not like he had hurt me, or left me there.

I punched in his number, and yawned.

"Hello?" Harry's voice was scratchy and tired-sounding, as though he had only just woken up.

"Hi. It's Ella."

"Oh, Ella. Hi." I liked the way my name sounded in his mouth; soft and quiet, longer than when other people said it. "Oh, shit. Ella."

"Yeah. Listen, I just got your voicemails." I paused. "Are you... How are you?"

"Me?" He laughed. "Hungover. Tired. Embarrassed. You?"

"Uhm..." I fiddled with the corner of my duvet.

"Look, I am sorry." He sighed. "I understand if you don't want to see me again-"

"I do." I whispered, but he heard me.

"What?"

"I want to see you again. I... I really like you. And I don't care about last night, it wasn't really your fault, I'm not mad or anything." I thought he had hung up, but after a few seconds he replied.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

"Great!" I could hear the grin in his voice. "I'll pick you up at 7 then? For band rehearsal?"

"Okay, cool." I was about to say goodbye, when Harry asked:

"Just, just making sure - how many times did I drunk call you last night?"

"Four." I smiled, and hung up.

(A/N: hi! If you're reading this thank you so much! I know that this story is kind of slightly crappy at the moment but I'm going to try to make it better! And it means a lot that you all are reading this :* If you could maybe vote then that would be awesome, but if you can't be arsed and just want to read my fanfic then feel free to ignore these notes, I won't mind!)