The Foster Girl || Harry Styles

- 34 -

“I just don’t understand,” I say, sitting down on my floor cross-legged. Harry and Gemma followed my actions. “Who could’ve done this?”

I place the note from Jamie in the center of everyone while we all stare at it. The picture attached was of me and Harry kissing. It looked to be taken from the kitchen window.

“I knew Liam and Melissa were pretty upset about this, but I didn’t think they would go this far,” Harry says.

“Melissa is not as pissed as you would think. I talked to her about it, and she’s moving back tomorrow. She’s just annoyed that someone else is happy and she’s not,” I reply, rolling my eyes as I thought back to our conversation. “She told me she wouldn’t rat us out, and I just came back from talking to her when Jamie was here. She wouldn’t have had time to send the note that quickly.”

“If Melissa isn’t upset, then it has to be Liam. It’s not like your mum would want to ruin your relationship. You said she liked Harry, right?” Gemma confirms.

“Yeah. She thinks he’s great. But right now Liam seems more upset over the fact that Melissa left than he is over me and Harry,” I point out.

“You never know,” Harry says hesitantly. “Maybe we should ask him about it.”

“No one else knew,” Gemma mentions, now equally suspicious.

“But what if we’re wrong? If we go and accuse him of all this and he was never the one who actually sent the note, then that’s only going to cause more problems,” I argue. It’s not like there aren’t enough issues between me and Liam already.

“We wouldn’t be accusing him. We would just bring it up to test his reaction. If he acts weird about it then we can start asking questions,” Harry plans out. It wasn’t a terrible idea.

“But how do we get him over here? He basically hates me.”

“You said Melissa’s coming back tomorrow, right?” Gemma offers. “Maybe we could convince him that she wants to talk to him.”

“That wouldn’t end well,” I reason, biting my lip. I’ve already dug myself into a deep enough hole.

“Do you have another idea?” she asks. I sigh.

“I’m gonna go talk to him,” I say. “I need to anyways. I’m not going to let him go on hating me like this.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Harry claims.

“He might as well. It’s not like he’s happy with me. I have to resolve this. I’ll let you know what happens, but I have to work things out,” I say, grabbing the note and tucking it back into the envelope. “First thing tomorrow morning I’ll head over there.”

“Okay,” Gemma sighs. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I response. “I might need it.”

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