HEY GUYS! this is the second to last chapter i'm going to write. sorry but my inspiration is gettin on low. hope you guys enjoy!
Chapter 12
I sat up in my bed and rubbed my forehead. It had been a big night last night. I didn't know what happened to Liam after I left. Maybe he went back home? The last thing I remember was Harry throwing up in the back seat of the limo and then I cleaned it up. I stumbled out of bed and quickly changed. I tied my messy hair up in a bun and went down stairs for breakfast. It was pretty quiet so I assumed everyone else was asleep. I entered the kitchen and saw Harry with his back to me.
"Morning," I yawned. He still didn't turn around to face me so I just assumed that he was a little hung over from last night. I walked over to the cupboard, got out a box of Cornflakes and started making some breakfast. I plopped down on the stool opposite to Harry and started eating. I looked up at him and realised he wasn't happy.
"What's up babe?" I asked, my mouth full of soggy Cornflakes.
In reply he pushed a magazine towards me. On the front cover were pictures of Harry staggering out of the house from last night, clearly very drunk.
"Oh Harry! Don't worry! I'm sure it's not that bad! Everyone gets drunk once or twice."
"Page 13," he muttered. I looked at him confused and then flipped to page 13 and looked at the pictures.
"Crap! Harry I'm sorry! It's not what it looks like!"
"Then what is it Jaida? Because it looks like you are kissing my best friend! How long has this been going on? Why didn't you just break up with me? I would've been fine with it!"
"He kissed me!" I explained.
"Oh yeah, sure he did Jaida. That's what they all say! I can't believe you would ever do something like this to me! All I've ever done is try and be the best boyfriend I can and this is what I get in return? You go off and snog my best friend?" As Harry's voice rose, so did my anger.
"You were freakin drunk last night Harry. Do you not remember that? Who do you think looked after you last night? Who took you home? Who cleaned up your flippin vomit from the back seat? Me. I did everything. So don't you complain about me being a bad girlfriend when you clearly need to look in the mirror."
Harry ran his hands through his hair. "I think you should leave," he said avoiding eye contact.
"Gladly," I spat back. I ran upstairs, threw all my belongings into a bag and ran back down stairs. Harry was waiting at the door, holding it open. I stopped; wanting to say something nasty, wanting to slap him. But I just couldn't so instead I walked out the door and didn't turn back.
After a train ride and 2 bus rides, I finally reached the apartment. I slowly walked up the stairs, going over the recent events in my head. Pain throbbed in my heart. Everything hurt. I reached the apartment and turned the key. Not apartment 13, but apartment 15. Mum was sitting on the couch and was surprised to see me walk in.
"Mum, when's the next flight back home?"
