Spotlight |h.s|

Seven

Aubrey Hart

I fucked up. Louis said something inconsiderate, and I got careless and fucked up.

Did I fuck a random guy in the bathroom to stop myself from crying and completely ruining my makeup? Yes. Was that the smartest thing to do? Absolutely not. I'm an idiot, actually. Harry is going to kill me.

He spent the rest of the night not acknowledging my presence, only putting his arm around me when he noticed a girl pointing her phone at the two of us. The gesture was so eerie due to the fact that I knew he was seething to yell at me and call me stupid and things like that. The contradiction of it all made my head spin.

He dropped Louis and Zayn off at their apartment, and now we're heading to my house. He looks so tense right now. It's probably not smart of him to be driving after having a few drinks, but this thing drives itself, so I'm not worried. His hands are gripping the wheel so tightly I feel like he could rip it out of its place any second now.

My stomach turns with nerves, knowing the second he stops this car, I'm getting my head ripped off. I deserve it to an extent. I shouldn't have been so careless. I didn't think. I tried to be careful about it, letting the guy go before me and waiting until he was completely out of sight to exit the bathroom myself. I still was obvious enough to get caught, though.

I feel like a teenager riding home with her parents after getting caught drinking or something, the impending lecture for my behavior making me a bit nostalgic. I want to jump out of this moving vehicle to avoid it, though. I'm really not in the mood to be patronized by my coworker who's only a little over year older than me.

He types in the code to my gate and drives up to my house. That's another unsettling thing about this. He can just get into my neighborhood now. He could easily do something to me. I don't know what that something would be, but I'm just saying.

Or he could tell Louis the code and he could do something instead. He's like some stupid little Harry clone with no opinions of his own. Zayn is actually nice. I have no idea why he's friends with the other two. He deserves better.

We reach my driveway and I look at him expectantly, ready to take everything he has to say so I can go inside and go to bed.

He looks a little more on edge than earlier tonight, confusing me a bit. Kind of jittery and short-tempered. He turns to look at me better, shutting off the car.

"So what the fuck was that?" He starts with a condescending tone right off the bat.

"I needed to take a beat." I defend.

"So get another drink. Don't risk blowing our cover."

"I was going to take a minute to myself in the bathroom, but then I bumped into him in the hallway and it just happened." I explain.

"Well it was really fucking stupid of you," he shakes his head, "You can't ruin this."

"I wouldn't have gone to this thing tonight in the first place if I wanted to ruin it. Do you think I would willingly spend my free Saturday with you and your stupid fucking friends if I didn't care about this money?"

"That's what it seemed like tonight. You were so obvious," he scolds, "You and your dick sucking lips coming out a few minutes after him."

"My dick sucking lips?" I give him a chance to take that back, face scrunching up at the comment.

"Don't act like you haven't heard someone say that about them before." He rolls his eyes. My lips are a bit bigger than average, so he's right, I've heard it.