Boys Don't Cry

Just A Bit Busy

March

On Saturday, it had been exactly three and a half weeks since the fateful moment in Louis' car which had shredded Isabel's heart into barely redeemable scraps. Not that she was counting.

When she'd arrived to the boys' house carrying a plate covered by silver foil, Harry stubbornly sat with his legs in Caitlin's lap not looking in Isabel's direction, sipping from his cup with tight lips and keeping his eyes trained on the television screen. Everyone else apart from Caitlin had gathered around Isabel's plate excitedly, and she could almost hear Harry rolling his eyes and gritting his teeth.

"I had a lot of free time the last few days," Isabel said. Seeing as she was now avoiding the library at all costs, and her friends were busy doing things without her, she really did.

"So I made flapjacks. To say thanks for letting me stay the night I – that one time."

"I love flapjacks!" Liv exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Oh, Harry loves flapjacks!"

"Would you like one Harry?" Isabel asked, shooting him a small smile.

"No," he snapped, not even looking at her as he stared down at his phone.

"I used to make them all the time when I was little with my sister," Isabel told the others.

"She used to make me do all the work, so I got quite good."

"Do they have raisins in?" Caitlin called from her place on the sofa. She wasn't looking at Isabel either; she seemed to be directly addressing Zayn, avoiding Isabel's eyes completely.

"Isabel doesn't like raisins," Harry grumbled. Isabel swallowed a piece of flapjack, glancing at him curiously, but despite the fact he was flushing his expression hadn't changed at all.

"Ew, I won't have one then," Caitlin declared, wrinkling her nose up in disgust. "They're gonna be dry."

They were all too skint to go out tonight and so instead were watching Star Wars back to back and getting almightily drunk from a cacophony of spirits at the boys' house. Zayn, Olivia, Niall and Isabel sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the television, while Harry and Caitlin sat above them on the sofa, glaring down at the rest of them like angry, predatory lions.

Once or twice she'd felt someone's gaze burning into her, and when she turned to look she'd found Harry staring, his lips pressed together and his eyebrows downturned into a frown, his eyes blazing. He looked away as soon as she noticed, but it left her feeling uneasy, her stomach churning.

"This is so fucking boring," Olivia announced loudly. "Star Wars is fucking shit."

"It's amazing," Niall said incredulously, "you clearly just don't have enough brain to understand."

"Fuck off, yes I do. But it's complete crap. I've sat through two already, I've had enough of deserts."

She shuffled over from her position besides Zayn to sit next to Isabel, reaching for the vodka.

"You know when they started filming the desert parts in Tunisia, there was a rainstorm for the first time in fifty years, and they had to cancel filming," Isabel offered, blushing crimson when everyone looked over at her in disbelief and a beat of silence followed.

"Woah, no way?" Niall replied, but he was the only one who seemed to be impressed. Isabel took to staring at the floor, not wanting to even look in Caitlin and Harry's direction out of paralysing fear that the combination of their scowls would fry her on the spot.

"What do you suggest we do then, Livvy?" Zayn asked, saving Isabel by changing the subject.
"Let's play a game. Come on, you grumpy little shits," Olivia said, pulling on Harry's leg. He sighed, but didn't disagree as he came to sit down beside them.