Guts Over Fear {h.s.}

Harry

It's been a week.

A week after she kissed me in that parking garage. A week she hasn't spoken to me.

After the kiss, I felt stunned. As if I were electrocuted and couldn't make a move. She left me in the garage to wonder what was next.

Silence. That's all there is.

In a week, I moved into an apartment on the upper east side where the view of Central Park is just outside the terrace window. In a week, I've visited David. Mum comes to my apartment but doesn't stay long so she could go back to David.
In a week, I've won another fight, the first She hasn't attended. In a week, I've taken pictures with a group of fans I've gained over the past few weeks and met with Timothy to talk about an upcoming event, a community event. He says I have to give a speech to the troubled youth and there will be people to impress.

My mind has been all over the place in just a week and there's no where to land. I've called Faye about a hundred time but each time it's gone to voicemail and I refuse to leave a message.

"What's on your mind?"

I look away from the note cards before me to see Mum. She sits at the dining table with me, grabbing a card.

"I don't know what to say." I huff, leaning back in the chair.

She smiles at the card and sets it down before she looks to me. "You do." She says. "These kids grew up in terrible situations. You've gone through a lot growing up without your father, someone who would teach you things the right way."

"You did, mum." I tell her and she breathes a laugh.

"I could've done better." She says. "But I'm glad you are the way you are. You have a kind heart, Harry. You kept that through all of this."

I take a deep breath. "These kids seem to have been in worse situations than I was." I say. "Some of These kids had to kill at the age of ten or deal drugs at the age of eight just to have a title or have these responsibilities passed down to them."

"But they're all fighters, just like you." She says and I smile at her, kissing her hand.

"I grew up with a fighter." I tell her and she laughs, the corners of her eyes crinkling. It's quiet again and I go back to staring at the cards, tapping the end of the pen against my chin.

"I'm sorry I never talked about your father." Mum speaks up again. I look to her, her eyes on her hands. She's frowning deeply. "I wanted to, countless times, I just didn't know how."

"Mum," I take her hand again. "I understand."

"I hated him for a very long time." She says. "For not coming back. I didn't understand what was going through his mind, how he chose to stay where he was rather than come back and be with his family."

"He regrets it." I tell her. "He told me himself that he hated what he'd done."

"It doesn't change anything, Harry." She says quietly, standing from the table and entering the kitchen again. I follow her, watching as she stirs the pot full of sauce.

"If I went to see him again, would you come?" I ask. She begins to shake her head. "I think it'll be good for you." She looks to me, her heart showing instantly. It's held together with bandages and you can tell it's been like that for a very long time. I approach her and wrap my arms around her, kissing the top of her head.

~••~

The door way to David's home seems smaller than when I first came. They open, the housemaids smiling kindly as I walk through. Mum's hand seems to tighten around my arm as we get closer.