Just Friends

Chapter Thirty Two

‘One day this will all be a memory, and I’ll be just fine.’

 

Chapter Thirty Two

• • • • •

Every stoplight I pass by seems to fade in this blur. Every post light that stood ahead of me looks dimmed and seems to get weaker by every second.

I chose this to be our destination, to be our situation, correction, my situation. I am bound to face the dreadful phase of loneliness, all day thinking, and maybe— just maybe, regrets. Maybe this is our fate. To know that the feeling is mutual, but not be able to be together for certain reasons.

My mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Harry, together with me, leaving that household. I was also to face the fact of being alone at Christmas. My mother, Kylie, and Mike will go to Alaska for Christmas, and they have all agreed to my decision on not joining them.

Although, I still have to see them the day before they leave for an early Christmas celebration with me. And if you thought it was that easy to just tell my mom I don’t want to go, it wasn’t. I had to spend a month with her constant whining, complaining, about why I should go. She keeps on pestering me.

I cannot go back to that house for the meantime. I can’t see him. Because I know that if I were to, I’d only be rolling back to that same position I was in.

This is the moment and chance where I can start again. Try to live a life on my own.

My thoughts were too preoccupied with thoughts of Harry, that the sound of the elevator dinging startled me a little.

Finally, in my own home, this is my own place. I walked to the white couch and plopped myself down. I took in a deep breath and soon released a sigh. Peace.

My moment of peace was soon shortened when my phone started vibrating in my pocket. It was my mom, calling.

I pressed my thumb on the screen to answer the incoming call.

“Aleanna Davidson, where in the world are you? Harry has been searching for you and he said you haven’t been answering his calls. Fess up, missy!” she said, trying to sound mad.

I know my mother. She can’t even be mad even if she tries to. My mom is too sweet and cool. Yeah, my mom’s cool.

My mouth instantly released a deep sigh, indicating I was too tired for this shit.

I said I need a break. Why can’t I just have that?

“I’m sorry darling. I understand if you need some space for now. I can talk to Harry and tell him that you need space for now. Just, stay safe and take care of yourself. But at least tell me where you are.” My mom said calmly.

“I’m in my apartment mom. I’m really sorry for running off like that. I’ll be fine. I’ll go home if I’m ready to face them. I still haven’t cleared up my mind yet. It’s still sad that I broke Zayn’s heart because I love his best mate. They must think of me as a slut or something.”

“Trust me, darling. They don’t think of you that way. Harry’s been walking around the house back and forth, thinking of where you could be at the moment.” She slightly laughed.

“Okay. I’ll give you time to rest now. Just call me if you need groceries. I can ask the driver to send them to you. I love you.” My mom said, hanging the phone after hearing me say “I love you too.”

The day soon turned in to night, spending the afternoon watching the sun fade down the horizon. The dark of the night soon filled the sky and I found myself slowly moving in sleepy state.

I went to my undecorated, but fully furnished room, slipping off my clothes and changed into my sweatpants and a plain black baggy t-shirt.

I went under the comforter and closed my eyes shut, thinking about how my life would start tomorrow. The thoughts soon faded as I fell into deep slumber.

-----Next day-----

I woke up to the sound of my phone vibrating rapidly on my bedside table.

Groaning, I grabbed it and answered it with a rather harsh “Hello.”

My eyes opened widely as the voice from the other line spoke.

“Aly?”

“H-Harry.” I hesitantly said.

“Where are you? I know you needed space and I know I’m the cause of this. Just, please tell me where you are. I need to know, Aly. I need to know you’re safe and sound.” He blurted out.

“I-I can’t tell you where I am for now, Harry. But all you need to know is that I’m fine and don’t worry. Maybe we can start a life without each other, now. Maybe this is our fate. I need to go. I still need to arrange things. Bye.” After that, I finally hung up.

I heaved myself off the bed and headed to the bathroom to take a shower.

The bathroom was engulfed with the sound of my voice singing along to the music playing from my phone. Ignoring Harry and his unending calls that stopped, later that day.

I spent the day decorating the house. Although it was fully furnished, it lacked fashion, design.

My room had now Christmas lights hanging on the cream walls, enlightening the room. On top of my bed had Polaroid pictures that I had taped to the wall. One picture was of me and Sky on our first photo shoot, another one with Mike, Kylie, and I on the beach. Beside it was a picture that Zayn took. It was when we were at the backyard, watching the sun set and I was playing the guitar.

Another was a picture of Me, Sky, Zayn, Niall, Liam, Louis, Harry, and the two backstabbing, fake bitches.

And then my eyes travelled to the place I have saved for the last picture. So as of now, I had two Polaroid pictures on the left side, a space in the middle before it reached the pictures on the right side.

I saved the space in the middle for the picture I adored the most.

It meant a lot to me.

It was a picture of Harry and I when he was about to audition for The X Factor. I took the picture in one of the picture frames that was placed on top of the fire place in Harry’s house.

Then beside that picture was the day before he left. He had his chin placed on top of my head, my forehead was against his chest. My arms wrapped around his neck, his arms on my waist. Gemma took the picture. It’s a picture I’ll treasure forever.

A tear rolled down my eyes as I reminisced.

I wish we could all go back in time and start all over again.

My phone dinged, signaling that I had received a new message.

I miss you. I’m sorry.

The message read.

Sender? None other than Harry Styles.

I decided to not reply because I actually don’t know how to reply to that.

If I don’t talk to him, maybe he’d forget. Maybe he can finally forget about me and maybe I can finally move on from everything. I can’t keep hurting people who love me. And at the same time, I can’t bear to get hurt again because if I do, the remaining bricks from my wall might break and fall, leaving me vulnerable.

But that’s the problem here. It’s always a maybe I say. I can’t be confident with my thoughts and possible decisions.

I just wish that I can do this.