How Cliche (Narry Storan)

How Cliche (Narry Storan) Part 9

I had waited since the beginning to see Harry get hurt. I knew all along that it was going to eventually happen and I didn't want it to happen but in a sick way, I did. I wanted him to learn but at the same time I wanted it to happen for him the easy way. The way he didn't want.

"Chelsea wants to meet me," he told me from his spot on my front porch while I stood in the doorway. "And I want you to come along."

I raised an eyebrow. "You honestly want me to come along? On your date?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. I've done it before, haven't I? And didn't I promise to keep your friendship?"

It was my turn to shrug. He had promised but he hadn't kept it very well. He had finally made an effort to talk to me again, but it didn't seem to last very long. A few quick sentences here or there and he was gone again. This was the longest we'd talked since he forgot our plans that one day. I wished I could have been happier about the fact that we were speaking fully again. It didn't seem all right, however, so I was trying to keep my distance without actually being away from Harry.

"What are we planning on doing?" I asked once we had been walking for quite a bit.

"Chelsea wants to meet me at the rec. park," he answered, leaving it at that.

So we walked to the rec. park, leaving nothing but silence between us. I never liked the rec. park much. It was never a staple in the lives of Harry and me, so we had no use for it. Chelsea was sitting at one of the picnic benches in the pavilion when we reached her. She was powdering her nose and didn't notice when we reached the table until Harry greeted her with a pet name that made me cringe. She looked up from her compact and smiled. Then her eyes flicked to me and her smile became a little phonier.

"Oh," she said, faking sweetness. "You brought Niall, I see."

Harry glanced to me but didn't say anything. Chelsea just perked up her smile once again and stood up.
"Well, I'll just get this over with." She sighed and walked around the table to Harry. "Sweetie," she started, looking into his eyes. Harry raised his eyebrows expectantly. She sighed again. "Gosh, Harry. You're making this too hard," she giggled.

Harry grinned. I took a step back so it wouldn't look like I was intruding. And to hide the extreme jealousy and urge to reach forward and rip out Chelsea's bleached blonde hair. She dropped her hands back to her side and took a deep breath, folded her hands in front of her and said, "Okay, Harry, this isn't easy to say, but...there's someone else."

His grin faded and my jaw dropped. A horrible sense of victory soared through my body down to my fingertips. "What?" he asked in a small voice.

Her grin had not faded. She shrugged a little innocently. "Well, yeah, it's this guy on the tennis team. I've known him for a little while and-"

"Are you...breaking up with me?" Harry interrupted, his face contorted into an expression of uncertainty, eyebrows stitched together and lips pulled down into a frown.

I couldn't stop watching. I knew I should have walked away or stopped them but a terribly selfish part of me wanted to see Harry get ruthlessly crushed. The better part of me-the part that still believed nothing had changed between Harry and I-wanted to intervene and save my lying, heartbreaking best friend from any pain he might have to endure.

Chelsea smiled and put a reassuring hand back on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but there's someone else."

Harry's face fell even further if that was possible. "Sweetie?" he repeated. "Are you kidding me with this? You're breaking up with me and yet...Chels, I..." he trailed off while Chelsea shot me a glance I couldn't read. I just stared straight back at her, making sure she knew how much she hurt my best friend.

She bit her lip and patted Harry's shoulder one final time, then twisted off the ring on her finger and placed it in his palm. "I'll see you around, alright?"

And then she turned around and sauntered off. She didn't walk, she sauntered. Harry stayed completely still, watching her go. "I can't believe it," he finally said when she was out of sight.

I laughed involuntarily. "Haz, come on, get serious."

He turned sharply to look at me, a look of pain and confusion on his face. "What do you mean, 'get serious,' Niall? My girlfriend just broke up with me and you're telling me to get serious? What do you want me to do?" he practically shouted, his voice cracking slightly when the corners of his eyes became pinched to hold back tears.

Something snapped. I was telling Harry the truth whether he wanted it or not and that moment was possibly the worst moment I could have picked. "I don't know if you've noticed, Harry, but Chelsea wasn't your average, everyday girl," I said, making sure my words were dripping in venom and that he got the point.

"What are you saying?" he shot back, now cured of his impending tears. "That just because I'm not the most...most...just because I'm not the greatest person in the world I can't ever get someone like her?

"That's basically it, Harry, right. That's exactly what I'm saying. Three months ago, we would've been ripping someone like her to shreds in the comfort and familiarity of the diner. We would see someone like her on the street and crack a joke about how Barbie is real. And people like her would be doing the same thing to us."

He opened his mouth to interject but I kept going. I knew what he was going to say. "We do that because she's fake, Harry. Okay? She was fake with you and she's going to be fake without you. Having someone who cares about her is not going to change the way she is or the things she does and then your feelings go to waste. She didn't see that you genuinely cared for her and you didn't see that she didn't care one bit. You're so blind," I finished, shaking my head.

Harry had gone from looking completely enraged to utterly stumped. "Niall," he started softly. "I had no idea...I was just...I wasn't really..."

I shook my head again. I was beyond flustered to the point where there were no words to describe what I was feeling. "Save it," I snapped.

"Ni, come on," he tried when I turned around to walk away.

"Leave me alone, Harry," I said loudly enough for him to hear. I was planning on losing him for good this time.

"Let me talk to you, please," he tried again. "Here, do you want the ring? Will that make you feel better?"

I stopped walking and whipped around to face him, astonished that he would even attempt to offer me something that had once been Chelsea's not two minutes ago. "Don't you get it, Harry?" He had stopped walking as well to watch me blankly. "Every time I walk away from you, I don't expect you to follow me. I want you to stay away. You can't fix everything by talking about it. And you certainly can't fix everything by bugging me until I've reached the point where I just never want to speak to you or see you again."

It sounded so much more horrible when I actually said it than it did in my head. He bit his lip, looked down at the ground then looked back up at me. "It's reached that point, hasn't it?" he asked quietly. Despite our distance and his tone of voice, I heard him perfectly; he may as well have been shouting.

"I think it has," I responded just as quietly. I sounded so much calmer than I felt.

"Okay," he simply said, lifting his arms up slightly in a useless gesture then allowing them to drop to his side, a signal of defeat. "You can walk away now."

It wasn't an order or a request. It was more a dismal statement with words that hurt to say from someone trying to hide the pain of losing a girlfriend and a best friend in the same day, let alone in a matter of minutes. I stood facing him, though, unable to move.

"I won't follow you," he promised when I hadn't moved. Finally, I nodded and turned around, walking slowly away. I was tempted to turn back around but I just couldn't. Because this time I knew Harry had kept his word. He wasn't going to follow me.