Hot (Harry Styles Fanfiction)

28

            “Hi!! there’s this pre season game thing at a park tuesday, wanna come? it’ll be loads of fun…there’s ice cream. xx H.”

            “never heard of a pre season game? And ice cream? I’m sold. –A.”

            “well, it’s not really an actual game…kind of a thing on the down low. Of course the ice cream would be the selling point, not me playing… -H.”

            “it’s illegal??? how is playing a game illegal??well duh, ice cream is too good! –A.”

            “what?? Nooo, it’s not illegal….it’s just that no one knows about it, like officially and well it’s against usc. thanks gorgeous, good to know you’re using me for food. –H.”

            “…I’ll be there, but I swear, if you get in trouble, I’m running for the hills. And you know I’ll beat your scrawny ass! And hey! I’m not using you for food…not totally. –A.”         

            I nearly ran into my father while I was texting Harry.

            “Hey,” I said grimly.

            “Aria,” my father replied nodding. Great, we were back to our usual father daughter relationship where we would acknowledge each other formally and honestly, generally avoid each other.

            I glanced back at Harry’s reply and started walking to the kitchen.

            “Aria, I would like to talk with you,” my father said suddenly. I turned around, pocketing my phone.

            “Um. Ok. Now?”

            “Yes, please. If you are available,” he said, hands behind his back. He had a stoic expression on his face, his “strictly-business” look as I coined it. I felt like I was almost in physical pain restraining myself from rolling my eyes.

            “Yeah, now is fine,” I sighed. I followed my father into his office room, closed the door, and sat on the seat in front of his desk. He took a moment, swiveling in his leather chair before stilling himself with his hands on the cherry oak desk.

            “Have you told Harry what I asked you to do?” he asked. I watched him silently as anger started sketching on his face. His nostrils flared and I could see his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth.

            “No, I haven’t,” I responded, putting him out of his misery. But of course, he did not realize how much misery I was in. I felt like my mind was constantly battling itself yesterday and today, unsure if I should tell Harry that my father wanted me to spy on his uncle or actually just go through with it.

            My father visibly relaxed, leaning back in his seat.

            “Good. I don’t want your feelings for this boy getting in the way of our family,” he said as though he gave a shit about this family.

            “You mean this business?” I said, mimicking his position, though considerably far more tense on my part.

            “Same thing dear,” my father waved off.

            “Now, I’m sure you have many questions as to why I want you to look around Jon’s things,” my father continued, snarling when he said Jon’s name.

            “And now you want to tell me?” I raised my eyebrows.

            “I wanted to see if you’d tell that boyfriend of yours, but you are obviously still invested in this business properly. I’m quite proud of you. I was not sure if you’d break my trust or not,” he said. If he knew that I was on the verge of telling Harry last evening at the park, my father would not look so smug.