My Best Friend's Brother

Chapter Four-

Harry's request wasn't something that was too drastic or over-the-top; it was actually quite in his character, to be quite honest. He had asked me to cover up for him that night, as he was planning on sneaking out of the house in attempt to attend a house party that was going to be held at one of his old school friends house down the road. I gathered that he'd figured that I was going to be spending the night with Gemma, since that was usually the outcome whenever I visited them. And I knew that Harry was more than aware that if he asked Gemma to help him out, it would most likely result in her slapping him in the back of his head and instantly declining. Don't even get me started on what would happen if he asked Anne. The consequences of that scenario are never to be spoken of. But obviously Harry was thinking outside of the box. And on the outside surface of that box, there I was. He came to me as the last resort, if you will. The very unfortunate last resort. 

I wasn't completely astonished when Harry came and asked me what he did. All I could manage to do was just stare at him with a frown. Almost like a "I'm slightly disappointed in you, but I can understand your wants because we're the same age and all we wanna do is have a great time and party," kind of frown. Except, that wasn't exactly the most accurate thing in the world. I am fully cognisant of the fact that kids mine and Harry's age all want to go out and get drunk, but it doesn't mean that we should actually go through with the idea. I mean, I mentally and physically try to restrain myself from transforming into some crazy and unstable lunatic as often as possible. Trust me on this, not one single person I know would want to go to a party with me and stay sober when I'm intoxicated. I've heard stories and they're not so pretty.

But as I stood there next to Harry, staring deep into his green orbs, which were completely full of hope; all that was on my mind was worry. Although I didn't know Harry well before him and his friends were on x-factor, I was still genuinely concerned about how everything would go down with him at a party full of regular teenagers who still did all the lazy stuff their adolescent lives consisted of - Note: I am one of those teenagers. Harry's famous though, and I didn't want him attending a party with complete strangers only to end up in some terrible situation. Like, he could get into some horrific fight with a drunken football player and get his head punched in. That would probably transpire because of him wearing those ridiculously tight skinny jeans of his. You know? The ones that show all his junk. Not that that is such a bad thing...

Wait, what am I saying? I hate him.

I shook my head, doing my absolute best to forget that last thought. I could detect in his eyes how much he wanted to take a break from his currently crazy career and have a good night, but then I began to fret the awful moment that I gave him this particulat assistance, and Gemma or even Anne found out. I would be in the shit, and this time, a large mass of consequences would be on my shoulder. I didn't want to have to deal with all of that guilt for the ONE time that I made the fatuous decision to do something so completely idiotic. But then again, what if everything worked out in the end, and Harry came home that night perfectly at ease and untouched?

I determined my decision by weighing out the two options I had, nowhere near oblivious to the fact that Harry was watching my every move intently, waiting for some kind of positive reaction and response. I rolled my eyes and shifted my weight to one foot, fiddling my fingers around with the tee-towel that was still in my hands. "Well?" Harry piped up, his voice something more than eager. I looked up at him, my brows furrowed in concern. Once I thought about it for a few more moments, I finally decided to give in.

"Fine," I hissed a whisper, hoping that neither Gemma or Anne were around the corner spying, listening to every single word previously shared between Harry and I. A colossal grin appeared on his face, and I couldn't help but break out into a small smile at his picture perfect reaction. He actually looked happy, in my presence."Thank you so much, Audrey," he stated, looking me straight in the eyes, his grin still present. I was slightly caught off guard when he addressed me with my first name. That rarely ever happened. It was always 'Brooks'. "You won't regret this," he added, his entire face fully serious. And with those words, he began cleaning the dishes again, almost like nothing had even occurred in those last multiple minutes of me contemplating and imagining the massive aftermath if we were to get caught out. 

After we had discussed how everything was going to be handled, I was becoming more and more content with the entire situation. Harry had explained that he wanted me to tell Anne that he was going to be up in his bedroom for the night. And together, him and I came up with the idea of telling her that he was writing some new songs that he was going to be showing to his bad mates the next day. I was going to convince Anne in the best way possible that Harry was really determined on not getting interrupted and how he desperately wanted to complete these songs by a particular deadline; which happened to be tonight. If Anne was completely persuaded into thinking that all of this was true, Harry was the going to somehow sneak out of his bedroom window without injuring himself, which I know is going to be quite difficult. His window was the only place that he wasn't going to be seen exiting his room from. Obviously I know that this sounds like the cliche movie thing to do, but it was our only logical, and on that note, potential plan that we were hoping was going to work on getting him out of the house. 

To keep him out of a more complex situation, I was also going to attempt to distract Anne and practically force her not to go up and check on Harry; despite the fact that I would have already told her that he didn't want to be bothered. If she ended up insisting that she had a plausible reason for it, I would still have to make sure she didn't. Harry explained to me that I had to do everything in my power to make sure she didn't come up those stairs. I know, this sounds a lot like some kind of mission; but really, it was just me doing a favour for my best friends' brother. He informed me that he was going to be repaying me somehow, but I wasn't completely convinced. 

Concluding to the end of the night, when Harry was expected to be arriving home, he was going to text me, depending on if he was sober enough to even reach in the direction of his pocket. Anyway, he would send me an advanced warning text to let me know that he was about to arrive. If Anne was still awake by this point - which she probably would be. She's nocturnal, a lot like me - I was going to distract her once final time, with even more effort than what I had put in for the entire night. I would keep her in the lounge room, or anywhere else that didn't have a clear view of the front door or the staircase, so I could get Harry in and rush him up to his bedroom. 

Gemma and Anne were, after all, the ones who wanted Harry and I to get along in the first place; not us. Once we were finished discussing, I liked to think of it as more of an exercise to gain each others trust. Well, him gaining mine, I guess. I wans't gaining anything from hin with his activity, probably just more of a higher chance of having a stroke or a heart attack in the near future. Oh, the stress. 

All in all, I was doing this to help him out. If they wanted us to be all giddy with each other, I guess that's what we are going to do.