book one: reputation // hs (hariana)

17

Harry Styles

I catch a cab the second I had the brain to check the time.

4:36

Johnston Hall is 20 minutes from the coffee shop. At best, I'd see the last few closing remarks.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I run up to the security, breathing out gusts of fog. "Am I late? Of course I'm late. Please, my girlfriend is in there and I promised I would come to support her. Let me in, please."

"Sorry man. Academic Decathlon ended a few minutes ago." I face palm.

"Fuck." I pull out my phone. Just as I'm about to call, Ariana and her team comes out of the hall. They all look me over.

"Oh." She whispers. "You came." My clothes are  drenching wet from stomping in puddles of slush. I feel a twisting pain in my stomach as Ariana walks up to me.

"Can we talk?" Her team nods and they head out. I grab onto her hand, pulling her close. "I am so sorry. I got caught up with-"

"Other stuff." She avoids meeting my eye. "Don't worry, we won. So it doesn't matter."

"No, don't say that. Of course it matters. Yell at me, I deserve it." My girlfriend sighs, taking a step back.

"If I'm going to be honest, I don't know what I'm supposed to say." She stops walking and lets go of my hand. "I think you knew how important this was."

"I did. I tried to get here. I even got these fake glasses so I would at least look the part you know?" Ariana reaches up to take them off.

"Your efforts are appreciated." She gives me a weak smile. "But you being here would've meant so much more."

"What do I do? Tell me." I could hear the desperation and panic in my tone. Maybe it's because I can see the disappointment on her face, and after what just happened with my father, the last thing I want is to not be good enough.

"I think I just need to cool off. It's been a crazy day. Can we talk tomorrow?" After a second, I nod.

"Yes, of course." Ariana chews her lower lip. "Call me when you get home." She hands me the fake glasses and wraps her arms around my torso before walking off. I clench my fists, feeling an engulfing pain in my chest.

---
Ariana Grande

My mom creaks open the door to find me hiding under covers, tissues piled on the bed.

"Oh honey." She whispers, rushing over. "Don't be upset, there's always going to be more competitions." That only makes me burst into louder sobs.

"We-we made it to the finals." I snuggle into the warmth of her body. "I don't even know why I'm crying."

"What?" After calming myself, I explain what had happened.

"When we won, my whole team started jumping on me and screaming. But I didn't even have a reaction. I just looked into the crowd, and he wasn't there and I-I didn't know what to do. I feel like a child. He probably has a good reason."

"You're hurt and disappointed. That is normal." My mom kisses my forehead. "Remember, relationships take communication and commitment." I hum. "I'm so proud of you." She stays until I fall asleep, which is soon after.

A relaxing slumber was definitely a highlight post my stresses with my boyfriend and making it to the finals for the decathlon. I wake Harry the next morning with a phone call.