More Than This {Harry Styles}

Chapter 13~ Moving On

A month passed since Harry went back to X-Factor, and I haven’t talked to him since the day I found his conversation with Caroline.

He obviously had no intention of making the situation better, because he left and I haven’t heard anything from him since then.

I lazily rolled out of bed, and picked up my sky blue blouse and skinny jeans I had picked out the night before, and changed into them and walked into the bathroom, revolted by my reflection.

“So that’s what my family has to see in the morning.” I say to myself, laughing.

My hair was skewed out of my loose ponytail, the mascara that didn’t come off left darks circles under my eyes that made me look sleep deprived. My eyes drooped, and I was close to crawling back under the covers and hiding from the world. It sounded pretty damn good to me.

I combed through my knotted hair and looked at the mirror itself this time. Numerous pictures of Harry and I over the years were taped on the edges, and I was suddenly reminded of how much I missed him, and those memories.

One particular picture made me especially miss Harry.

We were sitting on a slide, Harry’s arms slung over my shoulders, hugging me around the neck. He was smiling, but I was looking up at him, grinning.

It looked as if were any normal picture, but that was the day we made the deal. The promise we made to each other that we would get married.

I looked away from the picture, and finished getting ready, but I couldn’t get Harry out of my mind.

As I left the house for school, I stood beside my car door and looked at the Styles’ house, so calm and quite. I still wasn’t used to the fact that Harry was a star and we wouldn’t have the same friendship that we used to.

I felt free in a sense, not having to hide my emotions about Harry anymore. I was pretty sure he knew I liked him, but he was naive. And by that, I mean totally clueless.

I drove to school, and every day it was a routine not to talk to Harry. Or talk about him much the less.

~*~

School passed on slowly through the morning hours and sped up during the afternoon, along with my fairly better classes. But when school finally ended, I felt sick almost. yhhhh

I walked down the hallway to my locker, listening to Bruno Mars as I slid past everyone who was pushing in the opposite direction, wanting to leave school as badly as I did. But that’s how everyone felt at the end of the day.

I impatiently unlocked my locker, throwing my books into my backpack.

“Hey Peyton!” Someone said, popping their head out from behind my locker door.

I turned my head, alarmed. But it was only Blake.