Chapter Five

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"What are you doing?" Dori asked, mid-yawn, as she walked into the kitchen the next morning.

"I need to find a job." I answered, slightly annoyed that she even asked.

She poured herself a glass of juice and put two slices of bread into the toaster,

"You have a job." She commented, and then yawned again.

I rolled my eyes,

"Taking pictures for mom's daycare kids is not a job."

"You can't stay mad at them forever." Dori replied.

She yawned again and I lost it,

"Look, if you're tired go back to bed!" When her eyes widened and she looked at me, I went back to my computer, "I need to find a job."

Dori turned to grab her toast,

"How was your date?"

I blinked. If I was going to focus on my job search this was not the conversation I needed to have,

"Fine."

"Just fine?" She asked as she spread butter on her toast.

"Yes. Just fine."

"Are you going out again?"

I sighed,

"Yes. Tonight. And then that's it."

She stopped, I could feel her eyes on me,

"Why is that it?"

"Because."

The next thing I knew my computer was being closed over my hands. I pulled my hands out just in time. She looked at me pointedly,

"What is going on? Talk."

I wasn't in the mood for this but I knew Dori, she wouldn't stop until she was satisfied. So I relented, letting out a deep sigh as my shoulders slumped,

"Dor, it's just not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because..."

"Because...because..." She prodded, "Because of who he is?" I shook my head but didn't answer as I averted my eyes to the floor, "Sylvie you can't just walk away from him."

"Yes I can!" I yelled as I shot up from the chair. I turned my back on her, "Dori, we've been on two dates. I don't even know if they were dates." I said as I turned back around to look at her, "He's Harry Styles."

"So what?"

"Look, I get that you want me to date him so I can act out some fan fiction fantasy you have about him but it doesn't work that way."

"Then how does it work? Because I saw how he looked at you...from the moment he saw you. And that wasn't Harry Styles looking at you."

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked as if she was nuts.

"That was Harry looking at you. The guy he is when he's not on stage. The guy who shops for his own groceries, gets his own mail and washes his own clothes like the rest of us. Not the rockstar dressed in the Gucci suit screaming lyrics." She took a step towards me, "Do you honestly think I would've given him your information if I didn't think he was worth the risk?"

I was dumbfounded. My little sister was annoying but she was also right more often than not. I shook my head,

"I don't even know what he wants...what he sees. And I'm not saying that as some self confidence challenged idiot."

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