Social Suicide (Texting Harry Styles)

13

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 31 2018

Jacob and Binx woke up when the guys got to our place so I fed them before we left. I wasn’t sure what time we’d be home.

We followed Harry and Liam in Molly’s white Wrangler since Liam’s car only had two seats. Her and I would have fit in the back, but there would’ve been no room for Miles.

When they passed their frat’s street, I raised my eyebrows.

“Did Liam say anything about stopping somewhere first?”

She was just as confused. “No. I have no idea where they’re going.”

I texted Harry. I saw his silhouette move around to fish his phone out of his pocket.

Noelle: Where are we going?

Harry: Did I forget to tell you? The party’s on the football field

Noelle: Oh

Noelle: Why?

Harry: You’ll see

“Well?” Molly asked.

I flipped my phone around in my hands. “Football field.”

Miles pulled himself forward and leaned against my seat, laying his chin on my shoulder. “Where are the parties usually?”

“The fraternity house,” she said.

“You’re seeing a frat boy, sis?”

“Noelle is.”

Oh, sure. Throw me under the bus.

Miles was quiet for a moment. “That other guy? What was his name again?”

“Harry,” I mumbled.

“Harry,” he sighed. I heard a slight mock in his tone.

“Can you not?”

“I didn’t say anything,” he defended, raising his arms up and sliding back in his seat.

Molly parked the Jeep on a patch of grass by the road. The band Harry hired was deafening and there were purple, orange, and white light beams shooting up into the sky.

“Damn. Guess this is why,” Molly yelled.

They went all-out. The capacity of this party wouldn’t have fit at Pi Kappa Alpha. I didn’t recognize a lot of the people I walked by.

Harry texted me to meet them under the scoreboard.

“Elle!” someone yelled. I turned to find Zayn walking up to me. He studied my costume. “Who are you?”

I curtsied. “Anne Boleyn.”

“A Queen. Fitting. You look—”

He was cut off by Harry. He ran up from behind and lifted me by my waist. He twirled me around with ease and planted a rough kiss on my lips.

Zayn was quickly forgotten. When we disconnected, Molly pulled me away.

“I can’t drink, so I’ll have to live vicariously through you tonight.” She groaned. “I picked the worst time to get pregnant. I already know this’ll be the most talked-about party of the year.”

“You don’t need to drink to have fun,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, yeah,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand.

As I looked around the table for a drink that interested me, Miles leaned back against the fence next to it. “So… how long have you and Henry been together?”