The Choreographer

46: The Inevitable

Harry has been acting weird lately. And by weird I mean overly in my business.

I'm sitting on the couch, on my laptop when Harry sits next to me and peeks at the screen. He sits back on the couch but looks uncomfortable. I'm about to check my Twitter when Harry stops me mid address typing.

"Let's go to the park?" He suggests, easing the laptop out of my hands.

"Why?" I ask, sitting criss cross now that I don't have a laptop resting on me.

"We haven't really been out since we got back," Harry says.

And he's right, but at the same time he's lying, that's not really why he wants us to go to the park.

"I just think we could use some fresh air." He says, he looks doubtful.

"Okay, fine." I nod my head. I agree with him simply to be agreeable, not because I'm falling for whatever it is he's trying to pull.

So I pull on sneakers and pull my hair back. I leave on my yoga pants and sweatshirt and then Harry walk out the door of our new, too big, house and we get in the car.

The radio station is playing the same hits that it always plays, but during one of the breaks, I hear the host of the station start to talk about "Harry Styles' -" and then it's cut off.

"I really don't feel like hearing about myself." He shrugs, and normally I would believe this, except he glances quickly at me, his eyes searching mine, wanting to know if I believe him.

"Sure." I say, shrugging my shoulders.

"So, uh," Harry looks over at me, and then smiles. "How's the studio?"

"Perfect," I smile genuinely. "It is everything I could ever want." I turn to him more excitedly, "My new trainer, Kate, says she thinks that it's nicer than the one at her studio."

Harry smiles and reaches his hand over and grabs mine. "I'm really glad."

I lean back in my seat. "What are you hiding?"

"Wh - what?" Harry says feigning a look of ignorance. "What do you mean?"

I look over at him not liking his refusal to answer me. "What are you hiding?"

"Nothing." He lies.

"Tell me."

"I'm not hiding any -"

I cut him off. "Stop lying!"

We are silent for a good sixty seconds. I angle myself away from him and cross my arms staring out the window.

"It's not a big deal." He says pulling into a parking spot at the park.

I turn a look at him. "What? You being a liar is not a big deal?"

He pulls up the emergency break to secure the car from rolling down the slanted parking lot. "I am not a liar." He sounds defensive.

"Right, because you're totally telling me the truth right now." I roll my eyes.

"I am not a liar."

"I wouldn't call you a truther."

He looks at me, a mix of annoyance, guilt, and amusement in his eyes. I hate it, all I want is truth.

"That's not a word." He says.

"Aren't you playing the Red Herring right now?" I ask.

"The what?"

"The fallacy. Trying to change the subject in order to win our argument?" I give him a look.

"You poisoned the well by calling me a liar!" Harry defends.