Drop Dead | Sam Fender

Chapter Sixty Six

Aurora

"He did what?" Harlow growled.

"He kissed a lass," Dean muttered. Harlow was already around my house when she had gotten a phone call from her boyfriend asking her to meet him at mine, the latter having made it around no more than ten minutes later.

"What the fuck is wrong with him?" she hissed, spinning on her heel and raising a hand to her forehead as she paced the hardwood of my bedroom floor.

"Rory?" Dean called lightly, pushing himself up from my desk chair and moving towards me. I suppose I had been rather quiet but I wasn't exactly sure how to feel. "Are ya alreet?" I shrugged as the bed dipped next to me and one of his arms wrapped around me and pulled me into him. "I hope ya know, I'm not just telling ya to make ya feel like shit. Ya deserve to know."

"I know," I smiled softly as I rested my head on his shoulder, the two of us a stark contrast to the girl who was practically cursing Sam and planning some way to kill him.

"I'm sorry about all this," he sighed. "He's an idiot when he wants to be."

"S'not like he's done anything wrong, has he?" I pointed out. "We're not together, he can kiss whoever he likes."

"Why aren't you pissed at him?" Harlow asked in disbelief, pausing in her tracks upon hearing my words. "Ya should be furious."

"It won't get me anywhere, Harls," I muttered. "I can't force him into a relationship he don't want."

"He told you he wanted a break, Rory. That sort of implies he wants to be," she told me.

"His actions say otherwise," I whispered. "I'm just done with getting my hopes with him. I always end up getting my heart broke... I think it's high time I just gave up."

Harlow pursed her lips together in a tight line, her eyes filled with conflict as they bore into me. Wordlessly, she grabbed her phone from my bedside cabinet and stormed out of my room.

"Harlow?" Dean called cautiously. "Where're ya gan? Harlow!"

"That's not gan end well," I pointed out.

"No," he replied, "It's not."

"You can go after her, ya know?" I told him. "Ya don't have to stay here with us."

"Don't be so daft," he frowned, rubbing the top of my arm comfortingly. "Harls can look after herself."

"It's not Harlow I'm worried about," I muttered. I had an inkling as to where she was going and if it was where I was thinking, well, someone was in for a world of pain.

Sam

It was inevitable. I knew it was coming. It didn't mean I was prepared for it though. How does one prepare to get beaten to a pulp by a five-foot-three, fifty-kilogram sixteen-year-old girl?

"Ya know I think I should start recording these fuckin' speeches for ya, saves me the fuckin' hassle of having to keep giving 'em to ya!" Harlow growled the second I swung the front door open.

"Nice to see you too, Harls," I mumbled as she barged past me and to my room.

"I'm not in the mood to joke around with you, Samuel," she hissed, whirling around in the doorway and jabbing her index finger into my chest.

"Neither am I and I'm not in the mood to deal with your lectures," I told her with a huff, gently scooting her into the room and closing the door behind me. It wasn't exactly a conversation I wanted my mam to be privy to, having probably already heard the opening of Harlow's foul-mouthed lecture.