Fake - A Harry Styles Fan Fiction

Chapter 8

I wake up to the fresh smell of bacon and the crisp smell of waffles. My mom must be cooking breakfast this morning. She never cooks breakfast for anyone, but I guess she's in a good mood.

I manage to flop out of my sheets and onto the floor, sliding my slippers on my feet.

I trudge to the bathroom, put my hair up into a sloppy bun, and slowly strip off my old, dingy clothes. I stumble into the shower, turning the dial to warm. The water beads smack into my shoulders and back, giving me a light massage.

After about ten minutes, I decide to actually clean myself. I don't bother to wash my hair considering I've already wasted enough time in the shower. The food my mom is making me must be cold.

Once I'm done showering, I step out of the shower, onto the cold tile, and wrap my towel around my figure. I then walk over to the sink and begin to brush my teeth.

About fifteen minutes have gone by and I am still naked. I can only imagine my ice cold waffles sitting on the counter next to my bacon.

I walk out of the bathroom and to my neatly organized closet. Further toward the back of my closet lies a hot pink strapless dress that catches my eye. The weather is nice and it's sunny outside so why not?

I haven't worn this dress in a few months so I'm surprised it still fits. It hugs my small figure nicely and is about mid-thigh length. This was a good idea.

I don't realize how hungry I am until my stomach starts to growl so I grab my white flats, my phone, my keys, and my pink clutch and leave my room.

By the time I get to my food on the counter, it is pretty cold. The waffles are mushy and cold and the bacon is dry and crispy.

I wasted my own food. Great.

I pick up my plate and walk over to the trash can, turning my head to not witness this heartbreaking moment. I slowly open the lid, tilt my plate over the deepest, darkest hole, and hesitantly shake the substances off of my plate. I slowly walk over to the sink and set my plate on the right side.

My stomach is still growling so I reach over to the fruit bowl, pick out a fat peach, and ash it off.

Just as I'm about to bite into this peach, my dad cuts me off.

"Hey Leah, you got school today?"

"No. I'm ditching," I sarcastically remark. How many times do I have to keep reminding him that I'm on summer break? Seriously, it's getting old.

"Hey, no need for the attitude. I was just playing around."

I roll my eyes and mumble a weak "whatever."

"I'm sorry, what?" he asks.

"Nothing. So where's mom at?"

"She went to the store. She'll be back in about an hour. Maybe two. Why?"

"Just wondering," I reply.

My dad shrugs and walks back over to the living room where the TV is playing. I follow him to the couch and sit down beside him.

Right when I took a glance at the screen, I knew exactly what I was looking at. Harry had an interview today.

"Don't you dare touch that remote," I threatened. My dad seemed shocked by my sudden interest in what was on the TV but when he heard the name "Harry Styles," he knew just what could have gotten my attention so quickly.

"So Harry, who is the new Mrs. Styles you've been hanging out with?" the girl interviewing harry asks.

"She's uh, my girlfriend."