Don't let me go

Chapter 04 | Why stay when you can escape

Why stay when you can escape.

Being the head mistresses daughter there's many things expected of me, my name on the naughty list was not included.

This was probably the one day I was hoping not to experience in all my sixteen years. I never thought I'd be seating inside my mothers office to be lectured on the usual 'I'm disappointed in you, you can do better' speeches than our usual get togethers during lunch.

Especially being cramped in her office with Harry, even the mention of his name makes my skin boil, how could I let him drag me alongside him during his devient act.

The ice cream wasn't even all that good.

He better admit to it all, if he doesn't he deserves what is coming for him. What if he rats me out? I never thought I'd have to resort to this but that may mean bringing out the big guns 'mummys little girl'

We're sat in front of my mum's maroon  wooden oak desk which took probably three quarters of the room space, located in the middle.

Each drawer was labelled alphabetically, a pencil holder in the corner with all ten pencils sharpened to the crisp, piles of books and files and yellow post-it-notes neatly spread across one side of the table including a Macbook placed in the center accompanied with a Starbucks plastic cup which is likely to be filed with vanilla spice latte.

She sat on a high office chair -giving her a bit of hight advantage displaing her authority as we sat on simple wooden chairs along with a small red cushion with gold thread attached to it although it was comfy it lacked in the spinning factor- opposite us both, beside the desk separating us tapping her pen on the table several times which was now getting on my nerves, She really knows just the right buttons to tick me off.

She held a blank expression smeared across her face which at the same time showed many emotions, I couldn't read if she was displeased, morbid or just outraged.

The awkward scilence kept on building my desperation to know what she's thinking and what she has to say.

Finally after what seemed like years she cleared her throat, as from then I thought she was going to spare me a few words but nothing. Nothing. Not even a murmur. She said nothing but stared down on an open file scribbling down a few words.

I glanced across to Harry who was sitting exactly sixty centimetres away from me, the statement one his face illustrated he was as lost as I was.

It was about time someone said something, it's like my mother's waiting for me to surrender, admit to what I have done wrong, everything about her posture just yells out 'just tell me the truth Ally!' I guess it's the only option, prepare for the worst.

I gulped down the big lump resting in my throat, bit down on my bottom lip, as my eyes danced to every corner. The tention soon became too much; I started tapping my right foot rapidly.

I found himself chewing my nails, but forced myself to keep my hand down from my mouth. It didn't quite work, as i started chewing again.

A bare minute later, I built up some sort of courage from God knows where and finally spoke on the lines of  'i did it' To be cut off by a voice next to me.

"It was me" Harry confessed. "I made her follow me, she had no role in this, don't punish her for my mistake"

Did he just...

He just take the blame for me. I mean he does deserve it no doubt but I never expected him to lie for me

I sat there taken back by his words. Why would he do that?