Set Her Free

Harry Styles has known something is wrong with him for most of his life. He's wicked smart and really nice, but people don't hang out with him. He gets called 'gay' on a daily basis, although he doesn't know what that means until third grade. He gets called 'weak' when he plays sports, because he's not good at them. He spends too much time looking at the cheerleaders. But it's not because he wants them. He wants to be one of them.


28. Your Family Will Always Be There For You

Zayn and Harriet walked into the mall together, at last.

She wanted to die.

Oh my fucking God.

Was this seriously happening right now?

Apparently it was.

Holy fucking shit.

They were in the mall now.

Harriet pushed her shoulders back, looped a strand of hair behind her ear, and started to walk.

The mall, of course, was full of tween and teenage girls. It was a Saturday afternoon, after all. But at this mall it also meant that a lot of things were on sale, which was good for Harriet. She could get some nice things for only ten bucks today. It was lucky that they'd come today.

Zayn followed her into the main part of the place, otherwise known as the Food Court, if you took the cue from the four large neon signs on the walls. This was the most packed part, for obvious reasons.

God, can Harriet just die now?

Zayn somehow sensed her nervousness and he actually took her hand. She looked over at him, puzzled, but he just whispered, "Don't worry. I'm here, alright? Just have fun."

She blushed and gently squeezed his hand.

And from there, it was a lot easier.

She and Zayn went around to a lot of different stores. Buying clothes for her, jewelry for her, shoes, accessories, all kinds of stuff. Sometimes he paid, sometimes she paid. It depended.

Eventually, when she had a good amount of thirty-five bucks to spare, she went to sit with her one shopping bag-she could fit all of her shit in one if she believed hard enough-in the Food Court.

But she was alone.

Zayn had had to leave a bit ago, because he had to pick up his younger sister. He said he'd be back for her in about half an hour.

So she was here in the mall.

With other people her age.

All by herself.

And nobody was reading her.

This was such a rush.

She wandered to and from places, picking out some small trinket-type things that she could get with some spare change in her pockets.

She didn't notice the way the clerk in the store eyed her.

She didn't hear the man call her a fag.

She didn't see that group of girls ogling her like she had three heads.

Nope, not one negative thing.

If anybody wanted to tell her something was wrong with her, do you know what she would say?

She would tell them to "take your shitty opinion and shove it up your arse."

She felt so confident she thought she would burst.

Once Zayn had finally arrived-with his sisters, who knew Harry- Harriet had sat up front with a huge smile on her face.

"So how did it go?" Zayn asked her, and she had beamed at him.

"Perfectly. Absolutely perfectly." She said honestly.

And he had smiled and congratulated her.

The girls, of course, had asked Zayn who she was, if she was his new girlfriend, etc, etc, etc. They didn't recognize her as Harry. Again she wanted to sing.

But once she'd gotten home to find her sister on the porch and her parents sitting on the lawn.

Holy shit.

She shot Zayn a panicky look, and he'd mumbled that she could stay with them if she needed to. And with that in mind, she took a deep breath and got out of the car.

Gemma and her mother looked up, both of their eyebrows raised. Harriet's father was on the phone so he didn't see her just yet.

"Sweetie?" Her mother said, almost in disbelief. Harriet had nodded timidly, lowering her eyes to stare at her feet. Oh God. Oh God. They'd kick her out. She'd lose everything. They would take her savings. They would call her crazy. They would put her in a mental institution. Oh God. Somebody kill her.

"Why is there a swear word on your shirt?"

Harriet passed out.

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