Magnolia in May [H.S]

Part sixty-six

I guess you could say this song is important to the story ^^ *wink*

Harry

-- -

It had been more than few days since we'd gotten back home, I hadn't talked to Meg at all. Rarely receiving a scarce response to my texts, but we didn't talk or see each other in person. I told myself it was because both of us were busy and that she wasn't avoiding me. For some reason, my head said she was, that I'd done something wrong and she hated me. I certainly hoped that wasn't the case.

When I caught a glimpse of her at the rink the other day my heart nearly exploded from my chest. I didn't know quite why, now looking at her felt like the big bang reenacted in my heart. Being separated from her- even if it was a small amount of time, put a spotlight on my feelings.

I took in her presence, skating with those huge bulky earphones she wears on the regular. Twirling in precision, it came easy to her. Undeniably it was her calling, what she was meant to do. Just by watching her, you could tell that. The talent was blaring like a neon sign to tired eyes. I had to physically pull myself away, Rory shouting at me that we had to leave, we were late for a game.

I swipe my hand over the foggy mirror, showing my full set of teeth in the condensation-covered reflection. I slick my hand through my wet curls, smelling the coconut shampoo that Meg had left me. I can still see the scowl on her face the one time when she saw I used a two-in-one, shampoo, and conditioner. She looked at me like I had grown another head right at that moment, completely flabbergasted. Instantly she threw it in the bin, rolling her gorgeous eyes so far into her head. After giving me an earful on how awful that was for my hair she bought me some brand that was supposedly good for curls. And I'll admit it, my hair has never looked better since I've started using it.

I tried to deflect the tensing thoughts of her, covering up the fact I was scared she was distancing herself from me. As much as I was inclined to, I couldn't think that way. It wasn't healthy for me, or Meg for the matter.

Why am I so fucking dramatic? Sometimes I mentally gag at my thoughts.

It's probably because she's busy with practice, and not because she regrets saying yes to being my girlfriend. Right?

The locker room was bare, not one other jock occupied it. I liked being alone, a full set of metal lockers, and a questionable smell looming through the air. I sigh through my nose, a rush of relief fills my system with the fact I was done with practice. At this point I didn't understand why I still played this sport, all it gave me was mounds of vexation. The only reason I was still doing it was because Rory did it. I mean I guess it was a good outlet for my temper issue, throwing other guys my size around like ragdolls. As much as I didn't like to admit it- I enjoyed the violence of it, getting a black eye or giving one.

Sitting alone while tossing clothes on my tired body didn't help with the swarming mess of my thoughts. I couldn't stop thinking about last night. My shift at Clem's with Indie only added fuel to my self-pitying fire.

-- -

Last night...

An orange-tinted glow glosses over the warm surrounding, beaming fluorescent overhead lighting that reminded me of eating waffles at two in the morning with Meg. Thinking about her was my only hobby, which wasn't the best idea since I was avidly working. Taking up the stray order here and there, overseeing the staff. Mostly staring at the cars passing through the windows, hoping Meg decides she wants to bug me. Though that was highly doubtful because I was working the late-night shift, she was probably cuddled up in blankets. Vast away into a thoughtless sleep, the idea of that made me wish she'd call me to come and hold her. Melt my heart with her tired fluttering smiles, lazy breaths, and touchy hands.