Chapter Thirteen

5.7K 153 87
                                    

Kate's point of view

On Sunday morning I'm woken up to the sound of Lena yelling excitedly as she bursts through the door of the dorm room. She's got her suitcase rolling behind her and her typical grin on her face as she runs towards my bed and jumps onto the mattress-- clearly not concerned about the fact that I was asleep less than a minute ago.

She rambles on for over an hour about her week spent at home. She tells me about spending time with all of her friends, the silly remarks made by family members during their annual Thanksgiving dinner, and some of the conversations her and her boyfriend had over the phone while they were apart. She talks for so long I wonder if it's even still Sunday by the time she's finally up off my bed and busying herself with unpacking.

For a few more hours, I continue to lay in bed and pout to myself. I want to call Harry and explain that my exhaustion led to my odd departure when I started kissing him while thinking of the man that I supposedly tried to murder. He deserves an explanation- but the more time that I spend procrastinating on calling him, the easier it becomes to talk myself out of it all together.

Instead of doing what would be right for the day by finishing class work then righting all of my wrongs, I end up out at a bar with Lena later that night. She claimed she needed the distraction to go out and get drunk since her boyfriend wasn't able to catch a flight back to Chicago until tomorrow morning, so she'll be spending her first night at home without him. I probably could have given her ten reasons why drinking wasn't her only option, but I don't find myself feelings obligated to say anything. Honestly I could probably use the distraction as well.

When I crawl into bed later that night, I notice two new text messages lit up on my phone screen. My drunk mind races at the thought that he is texting me like he always used to so that we could wish each other a goodnight. Instead, I'm slightly disappointed to see Harry's name.

Harry-
Hope you had a good day. Think we could talk tomorrow? I'm worried about you.

Harry-
Goodnight. Hope you're having fun with whatever you're doing :)

The messages are so simple and harmless that I feel the inevitable guilt flood my mind. Lena is in the bathroom and I take it upon myself to dial Harry's number without considering the consequences.

While the line rings repeatedly on my end, I tap my fingers impatiently against the bed. My body feels weightless from the alcohol and it's exactly what I need to get my mind off the fact that I'm using my current friend with benefits as my source for dreaming of my ex-boyfriend that I was accused of trying to murder.

How could things have gotten so twisted so fast?

When Harry doesn't answer his phone, I collapse defeatedly on the bed with a sigh. My phone is still in my hand and I type out a quick message to ease my mind.

Kate-
I am okey. Go odnught

I know the words are not even near correct, but it's better than nothing. I send the message anyways and end up falling asleep with Harry on my mind and him still in my heart.

On Monday afternoon when the final lecture of the day is through, I slowly make my way across campus. My head is killing me still from my hangover, but I manage to somewhat cure it with a hot cappuccino and a pair of dark sunglasses.

When I make it to Harry's lecture hall, I push open the heavy wooden door and step inside. My sunglasses are slipped on top of my head and I look around the large room. Harry's sitting at his desk with a pair of headphones in his ears and his head slowly bobbing to the sound of his music. I crack a small smile as I walk up behind him, setting my coffee down on one of the desks so that my hands are free.

Sensation (h.s)Where stories live. Discover now