Over Again

Chapter Six

Why the hell do I feel sick every time I see Harry with some other girl who is most likely just a fan? This is bitterly familiar, this jealousy. I hate myself for feeling like this, and over my best friend! I need help. We were drunk, that’s all it is. Nothing even happened. I pushed any thoughts of Harry being more than a friend out of my mind. Besides, today wasn’t about him. Today was about my Dad and me. Spending some quality father-daughter time. I got dressed for the day; plain black leggings to go with my oversized t-shirt and my favourite pair of Dr Marten boots. I put on my camo-coat over my outfit to keep out the cold London weather before grabbing my bag from the edge of my bed. Dad had offered to take me shopping for the day; anything I wanted. Though I grew up as an only child, I was never spoilt and today was a special treat. “Can’t I spoil my little princess now and again?” He told me when I asked why he was doing this. But I saw through his act. Maybe he was doing this to be nice, but I couldn’t help that nagging feeling at the back of my mind that there was going to be something in exchange for it all.

“Alright, seriously. Why are you being generous?” I asked Dad once we’d finished shopping and were sat in the food court eating our frozen yoghurts – an upgrade from the ice cream cones we used to get at the local ice cream parlour when I was little. He sighed and began talking, here we go. I knew there was something he wasn’t telling me.

“Georgia…Kristen and I are going to get married.”  

I suddenly dropped everything in my hands; unable to move any of my limbs from the amount of shaking my body was going through. I swear my heart just fell to the floor. Yet the only thing running through my mind now is how my mum is going to react when she finds out. And then I wondered if she already knew and just allowed Dad to tell me himself. Either way, I felt used. It’s like he bribed me by buying me all this stuff so I wouldn’t hate him for marrying someone who wasn’t my mother. Once I’d calmed down enough, I didn’t say a word. Instead I felt myself getting up from my seat and getting into the next taxi. I didn’t know my way around London, and there was no way I would be going back to my Dad’s apartment. That left only one place. I dialled Harry’s number and after four rings he picked up. Except it wasn’t him.

“Hi, it’s Zayn. Harry’s busy at the moment. Can I take a message?” He said happily, and I could hear the other boys mucking around in the background.

“It’s Georgia. Can I speak to Harry please? It’s important.” I said in the calmest tone I could manage.  

“Oh hey Georgia! He’s in the booth recording something right now, but he should be out soon if you want to wait on the line or something?”

“No, its okay…” I began but was cut off by a change of voice down the line.

I assumed Louis had stolen Harry’s phone off Zayn. “I’ve just had the most brilliant idea! Come visit us!”

“Are we allowed to do that?” I heard Liam ask in the distance followed by a few muffled voices I didn’t recognise to be any of the boys’. After a few seconds, I finally got the ‘Okay’ and told the taxi driver where to go.

By the time I arrived at Syco studios, a thick blanket of dark clouds had covered the city and rain poured angrily from the heavens. My mood was definitely matching the weather. As soon as I saw Harry getting out of the elevator, I fell into his arms and I felt him hug me as tight as he could, my drenched state not bothering him at all. I hyperventilated into his chest, but I wasn’t crying. He rubbed my back and muttered soothing words to me even though he still had no clue why I was upset. One of the things I loved about Harry; he didn’t question things. I assumed one of the staff at Syco handed Harry a dry towel because soon he was wrapping it around my dripping form.