Maid For Styles

This wasn't supposed to happen. Alisha was only supposed to be the maid. I had a girlfriend, but I wanted her -Harry Styles

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5. Chapter FIVE

Alisha's POV

When I walked inside my house, I fell onto the loveseat. I got out my phone, and called Niall. I had to fix what I just did between Harry and Katrina. While the phone dialed, I debated on hanging up.

"Hello?" Too late.

"Niall? It's Alisha"

"Oh, hey. What's up?" I could hear his thick accent through the phone.

"I was wondering, do you have Katrina's number? Or know where she lives?" The other line was silent for a bit. I thought I lost him, but then he spoke.

"Ah, she lives on 157 Mangrove Street" He said triumphantly.

That couldn't be. I got off the loveseat, and walked out of my house. I looked at the address. 156 Mangrove Street. She lived right beside me. I looked over at the house next door. Katrina was out on the porch, staring me down. "Alisha?" I heard Niall say.

"Thanks Niall, bye" I quickly hung up the phone, and put it on the table.

I walked over to my neighbors house. Katrina was still out on the front porch, glaring at me. Her house was like mine, but a little nicer. It was also painted white.

"Katrina, I know what your thinking-"

"Save it, slut" She cut me off. Her eyes turned cold. "My boyfriend was hugging you, the way he hugs me."

"Katrina, he wasn't cheating. I was freezing. All I had on out there, was a tank top, and shorts. All he was trying to do was warm me up, I promise." She looked like she was starting to believe me, but not fully. I took off the sweatshirt I was wearing, and handed it to her. "That is Harry's. He gave it to me so I could warm up. Go over there now, and give that to him, and make up."

She looked at me for a long time, then finally spoke. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Helping me. Most girls would jump at the chance for Harry."

"Well, he is yours, and I respect that. Now go get him." With that, I walked off her porch, and back to my own house. I looked at the clock, it was almost eight. I went up into my bedroom, and turned out all the lights. The last image I saw in my head before closing my eyes, was Styles.
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