Seven- POV Johanna

3 0 0
                                    


I sat at the kitchen table, tapping my phone on the table. The fact that Harry was meeting some random girl drove me crazy. Since then, he hadn't contacted me except to text me goodnight at one AM and good morning at noon. It had been a few days, and I was a nervous wreck. Jaycee even knew. She stayed away from me, and didn't ask me to play, or talk to Harry or anything. Jordan had spent the night the previous three nights, and we would just talk. She would say the same thing over and over again, about how she knows for a fact that Harry wasn't cheating on me. But, as the nights went on, I could tell she got more and more suspicious, and so would I.

        "I know he's busy, but, it's like he doesn't miss me," I said to Jordan from the table. She was laying down on my couch, playing Candy Crush. But, when I said something, she locked her phone, and sat up.

        "Honestly, Jo, I think you should call him and talk to him."

        "It's five in the evening, he's getting ready for a show, most likely," I sigh. I tapped my foot on the ground rapidly, and bit the inside of my lip, as my dad walked by.

        "I've never seen you like this, Jo," Jordan said. My dad snapped his head towards me, and stopped in his tracks.

        "Seen her like what?" He butted in. He put his hands on his hips, which made him look funny, because his tattooed biceps were huge. I never lied to my dad, so I felt like I had to tell him. 

        "Well," I started. He sat down next to me at the table. "Harry hasn't been texting me." He cocked his head to the side, like he was expecting more to the story.

        "That's it? Honey, you know how busy he probably is? Nothing is going on," He was confident in his judgement.

        "But, he was meeting up with a girl. I was on FaceTime with him, and-"

        "Jo," He interrupted me, and put his hands on my shoulders, "I've seen the way he looks at you. I can assure you he is not sneaking around. Harry loves you, sweetheart."

        

        That meant a lot to me coming from my dad. Any other boyfriend I had before Harry, he would glare at, and say that he was no good for me. He was always right. And there he was, telling me Harry loved me. He called Harry "son". He accepted him. That was the best thing I could ask my father for.

FingerprintsWhere stories live. Discover now