CHAPTER FOUR
The whole weekend I keep my phone off. Sleep called to me, and on Saturday I slept in until three in the afternoon. Apart of it was awesome, that I slept more than half the day away, but that also meant I was currently wide awake, wandering around my house with nothing to do. I contemplate on maybe calling Liam, asking to go to a movie - but I knew he'd probably already have plans.
When I looked in the mirror, I saw that the bridge of my nose was red and swollen. I looked like some sort of freak, my face swollen like that. Stupid bitch.
I'm heating up a hot pocket, leaning against the counter when the front door opens and closes. I hear footsteps, and my dad comes into view. He stops at the dining room table, placing his briefcase on top of it before turning and noticing me in the kitchen. I itch to retreat to my room, away from him.
"Didn't know you were home," He says, rummaging through the pantry.
"Yeah " I reply, my leg bouncing up and down. My dad comes into the kitchen with a box of macaroni in his hand.
"Do you want some dinner?"
"No thanks. I-" The microwave beeps, and I turn around to get my hot pocket. "Sorry," I said, before rushing out of the kitchen and basically sprinting up the stairs.
-
Sometime later, after my dad pokes his head in to tell me he's going to the office, there's a knock on the front door. I figure its Liam, except usually he'd just walk in.
"What are you doing here?" Are my first words as I open the door, seeing the stranger who has haunted me for the past few days. The boy was still nameless, the boy with the cross tattoo and lip piercings.
He's leaning against the doorfame, looking almost casual with his arms crossed and a look of mockery on his face. I remember slapping him, the red mark I left on his ivory-colored cheek. "Hey, Honor." He winks.
I cross my arms over my chest, contemplating on slamming the door in his face. "How do you know where I live? I don't even know your name."
"Harry."
"How do you-"
"Stop with the annoying questions." He interrupts, pushing off the door frame, his amused look gone. "I want to know why you were following me yesterday."
"I wasn't following you, I-"
"Yes you were." He interrupts again.
"No I wasn't! I was outside because some-"
"Stop lying." Harry grabs my arms, throwing me off balance. I would've fallen if he hadn't been holding me in a death grip. "Are you working for Rich?"
"You're hurting me," I say, barely above a whisper. His fingers were digging into my arms, and I could feel the bruises forming.
"Are you?!" He asks more persistently, getting into my face.
"No! I have no-"
"Honor?" Harry turns ever so slightly so I could see over his shoulder. Liam stood a few yards away, a look of concern and surprise on his features.
"Who the hell are you?" Harry asks, dropping his hands from my arms. I take the opportunity and step back, away from him.
"Her best friend, who the hell are you?" Liam takes a step toward Harry.
"Leave," I growl at Harry, slipping in between him and Liam. Harry looks at me, his eyebrows drawn together.
"This isn't over," He hisses, stalking off. What isn't over?
"What did he want?" Liam asks, watching him walk towards a small black sedan parked across the street. We watch him ride off before I answer Liam.
"Just... I don't know, actually," I furrow my eyebrows, remembering what Harry said just moments before. Who is Rich? What isn't over?
"That guy's crazy, anyway." Liam dismisses. "Do you want to go to Café Baby? They're having an open mic night for poetry." Liam says, giving a small smile.
"Sure." I reply unevenly, shutting the front door behind me. As we walk to Liam's car, I can't stop thinking about Harry's ridiculous actions and accusations. My arms ache where his fingers pressed viciously into my skin, small purple bruises already forming in their wake.
