"So, I was thinking we could have friends over." Harry says. I don't turn around, instead I keep washing a plate at the sink.
"Mmhmm." I don't feel like speaking.
"I thought maybe four or five."
"Darn it, Bridget. Talk to me."
I put my hands on the side of the sink and look at the bubbles covering my ring.
"What do you want me to say?" I turned around, wiping my hands on a towel and leaning against the sink.
"Well, 'Sure Harry!', 'Sounds great, Hazza', 'Love to!', or something!" He opens the fridge and pulls out a Cola.
"Ok, sure Harry! Sounds great, Hazza! Love to!"
"What's wrong with you?" He starts to raise his voice.
"Why do you care?" I match his voice.
"Lo-" He turned around and walked into the livingroom.
"Har-" I wipe my hair from my face and go into the livingroom too. "Look, we never snap at eachother like this." I put my fingers between his fingers.
"Yeah, we don't." He puts his other hand on my hand.
"I'm sorry, friends again?"
He knods and gives me a kiss.
"It's ok. I knew you'd turn into a grouch." He laughs and guards his face from my towel as it comes across for punishment.
"Harry Styles, you'll pay for that!" I laugh as the towel falls to the ground.
"I know, I know. I need to go, but I love you." We hug before he gets up to leave.
I put my feet up on the couch as he puts on his shoes at the door.
I wave bye and smile. He mimics me.
I get up and start my dusting around the house. I go through the drawers, wardrobes, and all that stuff. I put everything in it's place, but as I leave the room and trip over a little box that says 'Memories'
I sit on the floor and look through the pictures. Him and Zayn choking on fish, Niall in the tub with a rubber ducky, Louis eatting a carrot while reading "Life is Like a Box of Carrots", Liam singing into a razor, me drawing a cartoon shoe (long story) and then....a girl I don't know. There's a note attached to it.
I loved today! Can't wait for tomorrow. I'm sorry about saying no to your proposal and all but I'm just not ready. Maybe in a few years. Love you! ~Genna
WHAT?! HE PROPOSED? Anger is burning through me. How could he not tell me that he was so seriuos with a girl?
"Well, that's nice." I look at a magazine.
"Oh, nothing. Just Genna." I pretend to scan an article.
"Genna? Oh, Genna."
"Yeah, 'Oh, Genna'." I throw the magazine on the counter.
"Look, I haven't seen her in years."
"Do you like her still?"
"No, not at all."
"So why didn't you tell me about her?"