Silk || hs

Fuck This Shit, I'm Out

The weekend passes by fairly quickly and I am able to actually get my mind off Harry for most of it. My mother keeps me pretty busy cleaning the house and shopping for some new winter clothes. I normally hate shopping, but it has proven to be very distracting in the last three days, so I'm very thankful for it just this once. On Sunday, I make the three hour drive back to campus and manage to carry a boat load of new clothes into my dorm. It truly is a victory when you only have to make one trip from the car after a holiday break.

The next day, I sit next to John again during history class and he tells me all about his Thanksgiving and how much Fortnite he was able to play since we didn't have class. He asks me about my break and I shrug, telling him little aside from how good my Mac 'n' cheese was. Harry and I don't speak and we hardly look at each other the whole class. He just sits there at the front stealing glances at me like he normally does, but I keep my gaze away from him. The less I look at him, the more I will forget about my frustration. Harry is the kind of person who is just too charming and attractive to be mad at for very long, so like avoiding Medusa's paralyzing gaze, I must avoid Harry's as well.

Harry smiles at me as I leave class, but we don't really say anything other than forced hello's. John looks at me in confusion as I continue walking with him from class for the first time in a few weeks. He begins to taunt me, but he falls silent as I look at him with a pleading expression that communicates something similar to "I'm dying inside, so please shut the hell up. Thanks."

I walk with John to the campus Starbucks where we get coffee and he tells me all about his girlfriend and how excited he is to spend formal with her. This is the first time I have heard him even mention formal, and I'm a little confused as to why he hasn't said anything about it until now. Maybe he has said something about it and I was just too busy staring at Harry to pay attention to him. That could be an entirely plausible explanation because Harry seems to pull my attention away from everything else like the world's strongest fucking magnet. It's really annoying, actually.

"Are you excited for the bus ride?" John addresses me, pulling me out of my trance which has once again been a result of Harry taking control of my thoughts.

Trying to focus on John, I realize what he has just asked me and it dawns on me that I have no idea what he is talking about.

"What bus ride?" I inquire, taking a sip of my barely-touched Starbucks açaí berry-infused tea.

John looks at me like I have just said something stupid and I shake my head in annoyance with how little Harry has actually told me about this thing. We've texted some since Friday, but the conversations have really been about nothing, so I don't know if it's fair to count that as communicating. Our only other communication has been through our snapchat streak, but like our texts, nothing is ever said there. I admit that sometimes I don't even send him a picture of my face, but instead a shoe or something just to keep the streak... because I'm petty as fuck. Sorry, not sorry.

Ugh, I just wish this week were over, because by next Monday, Harry and I might actually have things figured out between us. Either that, or we'll be broken up, and that terrifies me. I know my heart is already too invested in him for a break between us to be anything less than painful, so I'm really hoping for an easy solution to the problems at hand. Ha, don't we all, though?

"Well, everyone rides down to New Orleans on one of those big charter buses. We take like four of them, I think," John explains kindly, his voice sounding less incredulous than before. I think he's coming to understand that things between Harry and I are slightly less than pleasant right now, so he appears to be treading lightly. I appreciate that about him; he's a kind soul. I mean, this kid warned me about Harry before he even knew me, and that's pretty damn thoughtful. Granted, I didn't exactly listen to him, but still, the gesture was still very considerate.