girl for rent » h.s.

chapter 46

-A month later-

*Harry's POV*

"Hey, it's me again" I mumbled to the speaker of my phone. "It's really lonely without you here. You should come back, and let me fix this". Knowing I didn't have much time left, I continued. "We can go to that Italian restaurant you liked and talk things out, yeah?" Time was running fast and I could care less right now. "It's New Year's Day; you have to come back today". I ran my hand through my hair and pulled it in frustration. "My mum has cooked a shitload of food, fucking relatives are coming. Please come back, yeah? I'll wait for you outside". I removed the phone from my ear and ended the call, as I pulled on the airport's driveway.

She's coming back today, I know it. I can feel it.

Christmas sucked without her here, and only parties to go to. I drank like crazy to at least forget not everything, but a small part. Her face kept coming back in my mind and it caused me to drink more and more. I even smoked pot for a couple of days in a row, along with some guys I used to know back when I was involved with Mark and such.

My phone began ringing loudly, ruining the silence that was lingering inside the car, and I rushed to pick up, before it wrecked my nerves. Mentally praying it was Leah, I hit the button. "Hello?"

"Harry" my mother's voice sounded, disappointing me in an instant. "Our guests are here and it's almost midnight, where are you?" She noticed I took too much time to answer her question, so she carried on with her ranting. "Please come back home as soon as you can, I barely see you anymore".

"Okay" I answered under my gritted teeth and hung up on her, tossing my phone on the back seats right after. I know it was really rude, but she knew I had a soft spot for her and would eventually push my pride aside and show up at her stupid party; I didn't want that.

My mum had noticed something was wrong between Leah and I, because she changed me. I wouldn't drink as much during my relationship with her, and smoking pot was off my list. When she got herself in that plane, though, she left so much space for my old habits to take up, and turn me into the person I used to be before we met; an asshole.

The airport's entrance for the arrivals, or more like the exit doors, were lighted up like a Christmas tree, with mistletoes and Christmas balls with thick, red stardust stuck all over them. A couple and some other girl were standing there, waiting for a cab to pass by, but none of them was my Leah, so I didn't care.

I heard the announcements closely, and heard this lady saying some flight from London is now landing. Suddenly, I felt alive again. Gripping the steering wheel, I remained in my seat, waiting for her to show up. I'm sure she'd be in that flight, I'm sure; she'll have missed home already, it can't be.

The automatic doors rolled back and opened, allowing a crowd of people to walk outside, slowly walking to their cars or calling for a ride. There were too many girls, and guys and couples that my eyes got tired looking for her and decided to wait for Leah to find me. She'd recognize my car anywhere, in the first place.

After waiting for almost twenty minutes, people began to lessen and Leah was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she got stuck waiting for her suitcase on the baggage reclaim, or was left behind because of all these people walking ahead of her. While processing every possible scenario in my mind, I waited for her, almost sure she was going to show up with that big smile of hers, happy she was home.

Almost half an hour later, no more people were standing on the exit doors of the arrival section, and I began worrying. Maybe, Leah never got on that plane. Maybe the second voice inside my mind saying that she will never come back, was right. Maybe I hurt her more than she could manage, and maybe I'll never see her again, and remain with only her memory and my wallpaper. Nostalgia filled my senses and I reached over to grab it, and unlocked it. Her picture instantly lit up and I found myself smiling like an idiot, remembering the day we took it. My eyes fell on the clock and the time hit me; midnight.