Living with Styles

eight

I fell asleep with an empty stomach last night. I'm starving.

I walk downstairs, still in my pajamas.

"Goodmorning, Isabella." Harry takes a nervous sip of his coffee.

I ignore him completely.

I get out some cereal and pour it into a bowl, then add some milk.

"I thought you didn't like any of the cereal we had." Harry points out.

I don't even look at him. I pretend he's not even there.

I take my bowl up to my room and eat in silence. It's no use locking the door anymore, since Harry can get in anyway.

There's a knock on the door. I ignore him and put my earbuds in. 'Breakaway' by Kelly Clarkson starts playing. My mom's favorite song. It's been about two months since the accident, but tears stream down my cheeks as I softly sing the chorus.

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes til' I touch the sky
And I'll make a wish
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget all the ones that I love
I'll take a risk
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway

I walk up to my dresser and pull open the top right drawer. I shuffle through the socks and finally find the picture at the bottom. I pick it up and study it.

On the back, in my mom's handwriting, is written: The Styles, June 1999, DisneyWorld

The song is still playing as I lay on my bed again and pull the picture up to my chest.

-

*Harry's POV*

"Isabella?" I stand in the entryway of her room.

She says nothing.

"I-I'm," I was about to apologize, but she just turns on her side with her back facing me.

I walk away before she gets too upset again.

If only she'd let me explain myself. She would understand. But she closes herself off. She only thinks of how she feels and how this all affected her. But what about me? How did all of this affect me?

-

*Bella's POV*

I haven't talked to Harry in at least a week. I don't want to look at him. I don't even want to think about him.

It's Friday and Harry has invited the boys over. He knows I act different with them, because it's rude to associate other people with my personal issues.

I get dressed in some black jeans and a blue flannel.

I walk downstairs and am greeted by a super happy blonde, Irish boy who embraces me in a hug.

I smile weakly. "Hi, Niall."

He smiles. "How have you been, Bella?"

I sigh and look down at the floor. Niall notices and gives me another warm hug. "Everything is going to be ok." He whispers.

No, it's not.

I continue to ignore Harry as I walk into the kitchen.

Everyone else is really happy and the mood is all jovial.

"Bella!!" They all say in unison.

"Hi guys." I smile.

We've all come to know each other over the past several weeks. Harry and I would usually go over to their house, but quite recently, they've been coming here.