Summer

Chapter 45

Three months later

        It’s been three months now. Three months since Harry broke up with me for all the wrong reasons, three months since I’ve cried over him, three months since my best friends left me at the airport, promising to come visit me when they get back. Three months, and everything is still the same.

        The boys come home from Australia today, and like they promised, they kept in touch while they were away. Well, Liam, Niall, and Zayn did. I haven’t spoken to Louis since the night that he lied to Harry and made him break up with me, and I haven’t spoken to Harry since I got my things from his place, though it’s not like I haven’t tried.

        When I got back from England, I tried calling him and texting him, but he never answered or replied. School started back, so I thought about him a little less, but there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about him. If I’m being honest with myself, I still love him.

        School’s been a nightmare. My grades have started slipping; I have no friends, and no one to talk to. Everybody decided that I’m an outcast because I dated two celebrities over the summer. You’d think that that would make a person popular, but no. They just decided that you did it for attention. They all think the boys both could have done better. I kind of wish that Haz was still around to defend me like he did at Biltmore with that other bitch. But he’s not. So the last three months, I’ve barely left the house, and I spend all my time with my mom and Delila. I talk to Liam, Zayn, Niall, Dani, and Perrie regularly, but it’s not the same as having someone to talk to face-to-face.

        Liam, Niall, Zayn, Perrie, and Dani are all flying over next week, and staying for a long weekend. Since I have school, they can’t really stay long, but I think we’re getting together for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

        I still keep up with what Harry does. At a concert in Sydney, he was photographed crying while they sang “Summer Love”. Rumors sparked that he was crying over me. Yeah, right. Even if he was, I was apparently just his summer love. He didn’t cry during “Still The One” or anything. I was just a summer fling. Over the last three months, he’s been photographed with Taylor Swift again, and so people are saying that Haylor’s back on. So I guess that’s good for him. He’s moved on. Why can’t I?

        It’s a Friday, and the football team has a home game tonight. Everybody’s going. Except me. I’m staying home to work on this stupid research paper we have to do for AP lit. I quickly got bored and started looking through my phone. I couldn’t bear to delete all of the pictures of Harry and me like I did when Lou left me.

        My arm healed up completely, but I still have four ugly scars that will never go away. I wish they would though. They’re a constant reminder of Harry. Of that night. Of that trip. Of that summer. My arm still hurts sometimes. The doctor says its phantom pain. Ha, I know all about phantom pain.

        I’ve finally gotten used to falling asleep alone again. I just use extra blankets so I don’t get cold.

        While I was scrolling through all of mine and Harry’s old pictures, and letting a few tears escape, the doorbell rang. My mom and Lila are out shopping, so I’m the only one home. Fuck this; I’m not answering that stupid door.

Ding dong!

        Go away, whoever you are. I don’t care what you have. Just leave it on the doorstep like a normal person!

Ding dong! Ding dong!

        Oh my fucking God. I’m going to kill this person.

Ding dong! Bam! Ding dong! Ding dong! BAM!

        Whoever this asshole is has started knocking really hard. It’s probably some jerks from school. I’ll show them who’s not going to let this get to them.

Ding dong!

        Okay, that’s it, I’m going down stairs to kick whoever’s ass this is. I’ve got a lot of built up anger, and I’m ready to release it on whoever the fuck this is.

        I changed into some normal clothes and fixed my hair, so I’ll at least look good while I punch out this dick head. I ran down the stairs, making sure not to make any sound. I opened the door with one hand, the other clenched into a fist behind me.

        When I saw who was standing there, my mouth dropped open, and all the anger fled out of my body. My fist unclenched, and I stood there, gaping at the boy who stood before me.

        He has a wild mess of soft brown curls that I’ve touched so many times, his bright green eyes that I love so much are looking into mine, and though he’s not smiling, I know that there are normally dimples in his cheeks that I used to love to kiss when they showed up.

        Leaning against my doorway is Harry fucking Styles.