Fat // Harry Styles

chapter thirty

chapter thirty

HARRY WAS UPSET. He'd been trying to get me a plane ticket despite all of my refusals. However, the flight was New Year's Day and was utterly booked. The only spare tickets were first class, which were far out of his price range. Even if he'd have found one, I'd have taken his card or something so he couldn't get it. It was a Christmas gift for him--you don't return gifts.

He was chewing his lip, frowning down at his phone. We were at the park after having lunch, sitting at a picnic table watching ducks waddle by. Well, we got smoothies, which was the most I would eat but it was considered a meal, right? I didn't finish all of mine, but I tried to imagine it as a drink. I could handle liquids, but solid foods never stayed in my stomach for long.

"Would you chill out?" I said, reaching across and taking his phone. I closed out the website for airlines and locked the screen. "I don't need a ticket, Harry. It's a family trip."

"But I want you to go," he countered.

"There'll be more chances, unless you plan on going and not coming back." I raised my eyebrows at him, playful yet a bit of worry still lingered in the pit of my stomach.

"Of course I'm coming back." He met my gaze.

I smiled. "You better."

His phone buzzed on the table, but Harry made no move to get it. I hesitated, unsure if he would be okay with it, then lit up his screen to see who it was when he still didn't take it from me. Pathetically enough, it felt empowering in an odd way. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been able to just look at someone's phone. They--mainly he who shall not be named--had always been so protective over it.

"It's Gemma," I told him. "She wants to know if you've packed yet."

Still seeming a bit disgruntled that I wouldn't be accompanying him, he rested his head on the table. "Tell her I'm halfway to being half-packed."

Confused, I gave him a curious look. "So... you haven't started."

"No, but don't tell her that directly. It'll give me a few moments while she tries to figure out what I mean."

"You can be pretty cruel. I didn't think you had it in you."

He smirked, rolling his eyes. "Ah, yes. Confusing someone with words is probably the cruelest thing I've done."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

I texted Gemma exactly what Harry said to me, and in a moment she replied: "Stop being stupid, Harold, and tell me if you've packed or not." He had laughed and said he told me so, then said to reply with a simple no.

"Tomorrow is New Year's Eve, isn't it?" he asked, lifting his head from the table.

"Every calendar in the world would tell you December 31st is indeed the last day of the year."

"How have the two of us gotten so clever?"

"My mom would call it being a smartass."

"Same difference."

I chuckled before something caught my sight. I'd been getting used to them these past couple of weeks, honestly. Their laughter and their pointing and their jokes they hid behind their hands. They no longer surprised me when they popped up wherever I was. I'd started to expect them, especially in public places. Usually at home, surrounded by my family, they left me alone. But when they had more area to move about, they made sure to make their appearance.

However, even though I expected them, the lack of surprise hadn't stopped my mouth from going dry and a tremor to run through my body. It was unsettling, to say the least. The sight of the group made a film of sweat cover my skin, trickle down my back. The sight of the group made swallowing harder, my mouth so dry there was hardly anything to gulp down at all. It made every hair on the back of my neck and arms stand up, a prickly feeling equally uncomfortable.