I shouldn't have gone out with Harry today. That was a disaster. I almost kissed him. The look of hurt on Harry's face when I pulled away is too much to bear. I bury my face in my pillow and try to rid the thoughts from my memory, but an image of Harry seems to be permanently burned into my brain. A knock on my bedroom door startles me out of my reverie.
"Louis? Can I come in?" my mom's kind voice says from the hallway.
"I suppose," I say, sitting up and attempting to make it look like I wasn't just falling apart over the thought of kissing Harry.
"How was your date?" my mom asks, coming in and perching on the edge of my bed.
I wrinkle my nose. "It wasn't a date, Mom," I say. "And it was...okay, I guess."
"What happened?" she continues; her barrage of questions might never end at this rate.
"We went for coffee, just like I told you we were going to do," I say flatly. My mom raises her eyebrows and waits for me to go on. I refuse to say anything else.
"Is that all?" she prods.
I sigh. I won't be able to hide the truth from her for too long, so I might as well just tell her. "We went for a walk and then I almost kissed him but I pulled away at the last second," I say in a rush.
"Why'd you pull away?" my mom says, looking disappointed.
"I couldn't kiss him. We broke up four years ago. I didn't want to lead him on," I say, brushing it off and making it sound like I'm about more confident about myself than I really am.
"Right," my mom replies, and her tone of voice conveys it all. She doesn't believe a word I'm saying. As well as she shouldn't. I'm a big fat liar. I've been lying to Harry, but most of all I've been lying to myself. I've been trying to convince myself that I'm better off without Harry, that I'm happier, that my life has improved since we broke up. But it's all lies. All of it. In an instant, I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to tell Harry how I really feel. I'm going to go to his mom's house right now, and tell him. Nothing is stopping me.
"You know what mom? I'm going to tell him how I feel about him," I say, standing up and smoothing my wrinkled shirt. "Right now. I'm going over to his mom's house."
My mom smiles. "That's the Louis I know," she says and hugs me.
Nerves clutter my stomach as I hop in my car and start the engine. What if Harry doesn't want to talk to me after what happened earlier today? I push the thought out of head and start driving. I plan out what I'm going to say as I go, repeating the same sentence multiple times until I decide I hate it and start over.
"Harry, I've been meaning to tell you this since I first saw you yesterday on my front porch," I say, then pause. "No, too cheesy," I mutter, smacking the steering wheel in frustration. When I pull into the driveway at Harry's mom's place, I still have no idea what I'm going to say.
I walk slowly up to the front door and ring the doorbell before I can change my mind about what I'm about to do. The door opens, and I turn around.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asks coldly.
"I need to tell you something," I say lamely. "It's important."
Harry hesitates. "What is it?" he asks warily.
"I, um, I want to tell you how I really feel about you," I respond. I nearly slap myself. So cheesy, Louis, I tell myself.
Harry shifts from one foot to the other. He only does that when he's nervous.
"Louis, I'm not sure I can do this," Harry says as he watches another batch of people get off Whirlwind and stumble away from the ride drunkenly.
"It's like a thirty second ride," I say, downplaying the length of it a little in hopes Harry will give in.
"I don't know," Harry replies, shifting from one foot to the other.
"I'll be right next to you the whole time," I say reassuringly.
Harry nods, but I know he's still apprehensive about it.
"If you don't want to do it, that's okay," I tell him, feeling a little guilty. "We can go do some other rides before the park closes."
"No," Harry says, taking a deep breath. "I'm going to do it."
"You want to tell me how you feel about me?" Harry repeats doubtfully.
"Yeah," I reply. I take a deep breath, ready to tell him when I hear his mom call from inside,
"Harry! Can you come help me with this?"
Harry shrugs, as if he can do nothing about the situation. "Sorry Louis. Can you tell me some other time?"
"Sure," I manage to choke out.
Harry closes the front door and leaves me alone on the porch, looking like an idiot.
I'm never trying that again.
I'm not sure I want to know how Louis feels about me. With the way he's been acting, he was probably about to tell me that he hates me and never wants to see my face ever again in his life.
I try to focus on helping my mom put up the Christmas tree, but my thoughts are preoccupied with what Louis said. Maybe I should have invited him inside instead of turning him away so he could tell me.
The other half of me is glad I turned him away. He would have just hurt me even more than he already has. Besides, he can always tell me tomorrow.
"What are you doing for Christmas?" my mom asks, hanging up an ornament. "It's only a few weeks away!"
I grimace at the thought of Christmas. Usually it's one of favorite holidays, but this year I really don't have the money to buy everyone that matters to me gifts. "I think I'll just stay home with you," I say, handing her another ornament. "Maybe go out with a few friends that night."
"You don't sound too thrilled," my mom says, turning to me. "What's wrong? You used to love Christmas."
"I still do," I say. "It's just going to be hard to buy presents for everyone." My voice cracks, much to my dismay, and my mom wraps her arms around me, pinning me to the spot.
"Don't worry about, Harry," she says softly. "It'll be a good Christmas, no matter how many presents there are."
A picture of Louis flashes in my mind, and I wince. "Yeah," I croak. "I'm sure you're right."