Blowing Smoke (Harry Styles)

Chapter 17

I showered in a strangers shower. I dried my hair with a strangers towel. I wore a strangers pair of pyjamas and t-shirt. And finally, I slept on a strangers sofa. But this would soon be my home, and they would no longer be strangers. I wouldn’t be drinking from the Guest mug, I would have my own. I wouldn’t be sleeping on the sofa, I would have my own room. I wouldn’t be fixing cars, I would be killing people. Yet, I honestly could not see a better way. Yes, I very well could just live my life the way it had been the past month, but it killed me inside. I was tense, on edge, anxious, never slept, ate, showered, bit down my nails to stubs; I was a mess. I didn’t know for sure if I would be a mess once I became a Westsider, but that was for me to find out on my own.

I lay awake, staring blankly at the high ceiling above me in the beautiful, yet strangers home. The sofa was just big enough for me to fit across. It would be quite big for a normal sized girl, but I wasn’t a normal sized girl. I was tall, five feet and nine inches to be exact. Plus, I was built bigger than most girls. The sofa was navy leathered, but comfortable. I was given a small quilt that covered half of my body to sleep with and a flimsy pillow. I couldn’t sleep from discomfort, but from my racing mind.

My back rested against the cushion. My hands were neatly folded on top of me in a formal manner. My toes pointed and flexed from the absence of the quilt on them. My eyes were wide and alert. I was awake. 

The room was dark. Very dark. But my eyes adjusted well to it since I had been lying awake for so long. It was dark, yet I wasn’t afraid at all. I wasn’t afraid anymore of the Eastsiders hiding in the dark. I didn’t know why, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. I didn’t know if it was because I was in the Westsiders house or just because I found new confidence in myself, but I wasn’t afraid.

I had been staying here for nearly a week, just sleeping on the sofa, training, and sitting in solitude. The week here had been uneventful and lonely since Harry was literally one of the only people that I saw or spoke with. Most of the others kept to themselves or were busied with their business involving killing or hurting people. 

I had spoke with Jeannie a bit more since I had first met her when she came to watch me train. She was actually kind and really fun to talk with since she was so positive and energetic. I liked her upbeat spirit, it really lightened my mood at such a difficult time for me. 

Eventually, my loud thoughts drifted off into quiet echoes and I was left with my focus on my nightmare that frequently haunted my subconscious. It made gooseflesh rise on my skin, sweat gleam on my flesh, my muscles twitched, my heart raced to speeds that seemed astronomical, and my mind screamed to wake up. 

I sat on my white surfboard that I had rented from the beach with my legs on either side of the board. My feet kicked slightly from anxiousness, swirling the light blue Pacific ocean water of Byron Bay in Australia. The sun beat down on me with a strong force and kissed my skin with a olive tan. I stared out into the beautiful blue ocean that seemed to slip over the horizon. The ocean had very small waves, not big enough ones to ride. Jake, Anthony and my parents all sat on our boards, staring at the ocean, waiting for a wave to ride. 

Jake sighed impatiently and stretched out his slightly too bulky arms. “We’ve got no action in the past half hour.” he pointed out. “I say we call it quits.”

"Yeah." my mum agreed with him with a nod and an equally disappointed sigh.

"Well I think I can get something." I stubbornly argued. 

"Monreau, we’re all going in." Anthony said. "Right?"

My family nodded.

"We’re going in." Anthony repeated. "You can stay out and try again if you want, but we’re going in."