ripped jeans | hes

forty two

please please don't forget to vote and comment (they all mean a ton to me) thanks so very much and I hope you enjoy this chapter ! -Gi

nemesis (noun) - frustration, anger, or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one's way of living

"Ar, what's going on?" I asked once we got our outside table at the restaurant, a fancy French brunch place that Harry swore to be amazing.

Harry sat onto the bench beside me, Aria sat across from us. Harry sat close to me, so our shoulders and the side of our thighs were pressing against each others.

"Harry," she ignored my question and looked at Harry, who gave her a coldly unimpressed stare. "Addison is my best friend, and I trust her to make the right decisions. One of the decisions she made was trusting you, so, I'm trusting you, too. Don't tell anybody this."

Harry quickly peered over at me before looking at Aria. "You have my word, Aria. I want you to trust me."

Aria opened her dry lips to speak but quickly shut them as a waiter approached us.

A young waiter, probably a year or two younger than us, with these stunning hazel-brown eyes, ones that reminded me of Sophia's, walked up to the table with a hearty smile.

"Welcome to Parc. I'll be your waiter today. Is there anything that we can start out with? Drinks?"

"A mimosa, please." I rubbed my temple.

"A mimosa? It's not even noon yet." A crease folded in Harry's forehead. "You're supposed to be the responsible one."

"It's going to be a long day, I can tell." I grumbled, already cranky.

Harry looked at the handsome waiter, who was still silently standing and watching us bicker. "Make that two mimosas."

"Three." Aria chirped.

"Three mimosas." Harry repeated.

"Of course." He nodded before ducking back inside.

"Anyway," I turned to Aria, who's skinny little fingers were twirling nervously in her silky hair. "Talk."

"Last night." Aria squeezed her eyes shut, as if she were trying to remember. "I did something stupid. Really stupid. Idiotic."

Harry and I both gestured for her to continue her story.

Aria looked at us both desperately, her dark eyes wide with fear and her lips quivering with nervousness. I could tell that she was genuinely terrified by what she had done, the words twisting in her dry throat.

"At the bonfire, we all decided that we needed more alcohol. But the nearest liquor store was too far away, and we were too drunk to drive, so Liam and I decided to walk back home to get some beer and rum." Her face fell into her hands midway through her story, groaning loudly in agony.

"Liam." I mouthed to Harry with wide eyes, my mind swimming in it's own thoughts of how Aria's story could end. "No, no."

"I knew it." He mouthed back, a victory grin on his lips.

The waiter suddenly appeared out of thin air, slipping us our mimosas and pulling a small leather booklet from his pocket. "What would you guys like to eat?"

"Three lox toasted bagels, please. Cream cheese and butter on the side." Harry smoothly ordered for all three of us as if he's done it one hundred times before, handing the waiter our menus.

"Actually," I coughed. "I'll have french toast."

I could feel Harry glaring at me, burning a hole into my face for challenging him. I curtly ignored him, only making him more annoyed, and smiled politely at the cute waiter.