Unspeakable

Chapter One- Y/n

      With one last swipe across my jaw with my makeup brush, I was done. I tightened my messy bun and made sure the shirt under my flannel was securely tucked into my jeans before deciding it was time to go. I grabbed my phone, took a quick selfie and posted it to my Instagram before heading out. I locked the door and got in the car, hearing a notification pop up on my phone.
             I stopped my motion that was about to put the car into drive and checked it, a small smile spreading across my lips. It was a reply to the picture I had just posted on my story. It read, "Flawless. See you in ten". I let out a small laugh, tapping on the text area and typing a quick message that said, "Oh Harrison, you're such a flirt XD. See you soon".
              Harrison Osterfield, or Haz for short, which is what everyone calls him, has been my best friend since we met at BRIT school way back in 2013. I remember seeing him all dorky before the shirtless pics on top of buildings came rolling around five or so years later, and it always makes me snicker whenever I see one. We met Tom a year later and have been hob-nobbing ever since.
             Whether it's when they call me at three in the morning, drunkenly telling me they need me to pick them up from the pub or drive them to another after I told them a million times that I was taking them straight home, we've all been through thick and thin together. I've befriended the whole family and make it a point to hang out with them at least once a week while all the boys get stupid drunk and I have to get them all back to their senses as always.
              But being the responsible one has its perks too, like when they are so wasted they have no clue what they are doing and I can record it all. Those videos are always super fun to play the day after while they all lay on the couch groaning because of their pounding headaches, dreading the self-inflicted events from the night before only to do it again a few nights later.
              They've all helped me through so much, and have always been there for me to cry on their shoulders whenever I might need to, especially Haz. He and I are the closest out of everyone, although the bff contest between Tom and I never seems to cease, but all in all it all brings us closer. We're always messing with each other; whether it's fighting like children, pulling pranks on one another, or having chicken fights in Tom's pool; we're never bored when we're together.
               I usually go over there on Friday nights and cook dinner with Sam, take pictures of the sunset with Harry, have pop quizzes on Harry Potter knowledge with Tom, and do whatever Haz happens to drag me into. Before we met I was a 'doe-eyed' fawn as he calls me, then, after a year or so hanging out, he turned me into a mischievous rebel who goes clubbing with three idiots all the time, but they're my idiots, so I'm okay with it. They constantly blast music around the house, knowing I'll start the dance war off at any given moment. They always try to one-up me with their moves that they show off at the club while knowing that if the right song is playing, none of them can beat me.
                  I pulled into the driveway, letting out a sigh at all the memories being shoved into the back of my mind as I put the car in park. I grabbed my bag and punched in the garage code, stepping past the 2020 Ford Mustang convertible that Tom owned. I opened the door, Tessa immediately greeting me. I pet the adorable staffy for a minute before standing back up and placing my bag on the nearby island, heading into the living room.
                  I walked around the corner and saw the back of the couch and the heads above it, staring up at the large TV screen in front of them. I met eyes with Harry, who was peering at me from the adjacent chair, letting out a smile as I shushed him, not wanting to get the distracted boys' attention. I grinned, slowly approaching the back of the couch.
                  "HEY!" I yelled loudly while right behind them, getting them all to jump a few inches in the air.
                  "Really Y/n?!" Tom groaned, which was followed by a smile as he got up and gave me a hug. The rest rolled their eyes and did the same, coming over to embrace me.
                  "Hey guys!" I cheerfully greeted as I released my grip from Harrison's back.
                  "Hey," they replied, sitting back down on the couch only to glue their eyes back to the game they were playing on the TV. I walked over to where Sam was sitting and bent down, sticking my head in between his and Tom's.
                   "It's six, shouldn't we start on dinner?" I asked, getting a nod.
                   "Yeah just one more minute-," he distractedly said, staring back at the screen while moving his fingers across his Xbox controller.
                   "No, now." I laughed, going over to the front of the couch and grabbing his arm, pulling him off the cushion.
                   "So, what are we making tonight?" I asked, rubbing my hands together excitedly as we walked into the kitchen.
                   "Burgers and homemade chips," he smiled, heading to the other side of the kitchen while I hopped up on the island counter.
                   "Don't you mean french fries?" I groaned, eye rolling at his britishness.
                   "Ah that's right, you American's have that weird name," he laughed, calling me out.
                   "Hey, you know I'm about half as British as you," I giggled, looking at him as he grabbed a bag of potatoes out of the pantry, setting them on the counter next to the sink.
                   "You literally were born in America, came here for school, and just stayed after that, how does that make you British?" he asked, raising an eyebrow while pulling a sharp knife out of the wooden stand.
                   "Well I hang around you blokes all the time that's gotta count for something." I mocked in a British accent, causing him to let out a groan that was followed by a laugh.
                   "You and your 'accent' are a disgrace to all Brits," he smiled, starting to wash off the potatoes.
                   "Well, we all gotta start somewhere," I said while jumping off the ledge and heading over next to him, grabbing one and putting a small dab of soap on it.
                   "So, tonight's not gonna be like last week, right?" I asked, letting out a laugh as I scrubbed the vegetable under the stream of water.
                   "No guarantees," he grinned, nudging me in the arm, only getting a harder one in return.
                   "I'm not chasing Tom around the house, sopping wet with soapy water again," I told him, smiling down at the bottom of the sink as I recalled the fond memory that I pretended was awful.
                   Last week was anything but ordinary, well, for the Holland's, it was a normal Friday. I had arrived at the house at around seven, only to find the boys starting their first or second round of beers, followed by around three or four more rounds. By nine they were waist deep in their own ridiculousness. I, of course, had to wrangle them all single-handedly, only making me wish more and more that I was paid to do this instead of out of obligation.
                   Tom thought it would be 'funny' to stand on the upstairs balcony while pretending something happened by yelling my name frantically at least six times. Little did I know that he was waiting until I was directly under him, ready to pour a bucket of freezing, soapy water straight on me. Anger flowed through my veins as I screeched, breathing heavily while saying his name through my gritted teeth, screaming it a second later. He rushed inside and I did the same, finding him coming down the stairs, sprinting back up there the second he saw me run into view.
                   Meanwhile, Sam and Harry were drunkenly seeing how much they could wrestle without killing themselves while Haz just turned up the music louder and louder, making me feel horrible for the neighbors next door. When I finally caught up to Tom, he grinned like a five year-old, spouting something about needing to talk to Harrison about 'something extremely important' that was 'none of my business'. I knew he was speaking out of his butt since he was so drunk so when I managed to get a hold of his arm, I wasn't expecting him to grab my legs and hoist me over his shoulder, bringing me downstairs while stumbling with every step.
                     The rest of the night was a tiring blur and frankly, I'm still exhausted from it. I couldn't do another day like that for at least another week, even if I was getting paid. Sam handed me another potato from the pile as we washed them in silence, thinking to ourselves. I know Tom was drunk but I mean, even when you're wasted you're still somewhat honest, so I wonder what that important thing he had to talk to Haz about was.