Dare You to Move (Punk Harry Styles)

Chapter Eleven

((A/N: Not edited as usual. Short chapter, but a fast update, yes? Picture that Selene draws on the side (obviously not my drawing, but I don't know how to give the credit to whoever drew it). PLEASE comment, or vote, comments would be so appreciated and would help me tremendously with my writing. But if you just want to vote, or just read and enjoy, that's fine, too. Thanks for reading! :) ))

“You what?” I exclaimed, jumping up from the couch. A look of disgust covered my face as I stared at her in disbelief.

“We—” She started to repeat.

“No!” I yelled at her angrily, covering my ears. “I heard what you said! But what the actual fuck, Shelly?! First you tell me Jordan had been hiding at your house for the past two years, since last year, and that pissed me off enough. But then you tell me you went and kissed him?! My brother? Who I thought you only idolized but then I come to find you’ve had a crush on all this time?”

Shelly sprung up from the couch as well, yelling back at me. “It wasn’t just a crush! It was mutual!”

My jaw dropped. “What the hell do you mean it was mutual? He’s four years older than you! How could it be mutual?”

“Because he kissed me back! That’s how I know it was mutual!” No longer was she whimpering on the couch, slowly confessing to me. Now we were in an all-out argument.

“He was drunk, you idiot! That means nothing if he didn’t know what he was doing. What did he say in the morning once he was sober?” I challenged her, my eyes narrowed and my breath short.

She frowned, looking away, but her fists still balled up into fists. “He left before I woke up… but he came back the next night, and he kissed me.”

I rolled my eyes, totally fed up with her and her warped opinion of my brother. “After him manipulating you for two years, you still wanted him?” I asked in disbelief.

“He wasn’t manipulating me! Jordan wanted me, too!” She argued, getting up in my face suddenly.

“Oh, so one drunk kiss equals him completely wanting you? Drunk or sober?” I asked her incredulously.

“You don’t know anything!” She screamed at me, her face flushed red with anger.

“He’s never wanted you, and he never will!” I screamed back at her.

My head snapped to the side, my cheek burning with the sting of her slap. I clutched my face in pain, staring at her in shock. She stared back at me, her face going from raging to horror at what she had just done. Sure, we had our tiffs here and there, but we’d never had a real fight, let alone hit each other. Tears streamed down my face at the pain of the slap, emotionally and physically. Without a word, I grabbed my things and started to leave.

“Selene, wait!” Shelly called after me, trying to stop me. “I’m so sorry, I—”

“Save it,” I snapped at her, turning around and sending her a silencing look before walking out her door and slamming it behind me. I was beyond pissed as I rode my bike home, wiping at my eyes repeatedly to get the tears to go away. But they wouldn’t stop and I had to stop riding a few times so I could see where I was going. I burst into my empty house, storming upstairs and slamming that door closed with a bang.

“How could she?!” I screamed at no one. Pounding my fists into my bed, I shrieked with a blind rage. It wasn’t just her kissing Jordan, which seemed minor now. If she had just kissed him once, I’d be fine. But no, for two years without giving me as much as a hint, she let him hide over at her house because he was too drunk. Jordan was not the brother I thought he was.

But not only that, but Shelly had slapped me! We’d been friends since middle school when I chose to sit next to the new girl at lunch so she wasn’t alone. She was the friend I fought with the most, but it had never gotten this bad before. And over what? Because I said that my brother would never really want her? Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but that shouldn’t have earned me a slap. And damn did my face hurt.

With one last grunt, I hit my mattress for the last time and collapsed onto it, still crying. Was this the end of our friendship? Could I forgive her? Should I forgive her? After a few minutes of crying, I took a deep breath and sat up. At that moment my phone began to buzz from my pocket. When I pulled it out, I instantly silenced it; Shelly was calling me. Sighing, I decided to distract myself by taking out my drawing pad.

I usually just doodled and didn’t make anything worth showing anyone, but this time I put all my frustration into the drawing. The annoyance and anger with Shelly keeping so much from me, and then hitting me all in the same day; and the frustration of not being able to decide what I wanted with or from Harry.

Suddenly inspired, I drew him. I drew his lean upper body, shading the arms and drawing some of his tattoos on his arms; like the swallows that peaked out of his t-shirts, and all the other ink covering his left arm. Sketching out his hair and face, I made him look off to the side, his arms behind his head and his brows furrowed while a trace of a smirk was left on his lips.

Finishing up with drawing his cross necklace dangling from his neck, I smiled at what I had created. The picture didn’t do him justice, but it was probably the best thing I’d ever drawn.