Spotlight |h.s|

Thirty Seven

Aubrey Hart

If Harry asks me where we're going one more time, I'm going to take him back to that party and make him wait until his ride comes to pick him up. We've been walking for about ten minutes, and at least three times, the silence between us has been broken with, "Where are you taking me?"

Can't he just be quiet and follow me while I do my thing? What's so hard about that?

I stay walking in front of him without replying to his incessant questions. I take the clips and pins out of my hair that were holding it in a low bun, tossing them into a nearby trash can and running my fingers through my locks that are now flying freely. My outfit makes me feel so powerful. I think it's influencing my actions.

I know I'm seconds away from a nip slip, but there's a sticky material on the inside of the fabric holding it to my skin. Think of it like double-sided tape, but a kind of tape made for this specific situation. The exposure is annoying when it makes men look at me like I'm their next meal, but at the same time, the lack of a shirt or bra under my white jacket feels so freeing. It makes everything negative going through my mind go away for a while.

It makes me forget about the breakdown I had yesterday in front of Harry.

While we were "Christmas shopping" to be seen by the paps, I actually wanted to go ahead and get my shopping done. I dragged him to a few different stores to get things for Jade, my moms, and Zayn. Where the breakdown ensued was the moment I pulled Harry with me into an art store looking for new watercolor paint and paper. I was babbling to him about having to get something for Elora before we could leave.

I forgot for a split second that she wasn't here anymore.

The next thirty minutes consisted of me sitting in a secluded hallway that leads to the mall bathrooms, face in my hands as he squatted in front of me helplessly. He looked like he felt genuinely bad. It reminded me of my t-shirt breakdown.

He had to coax me into leaving, driving me back to my house and surprisingly sitting with me for a while inside. I don't know why he stayed, but he did. He just watched me curled up in a ball on my couch, Charlie laying in front of me in an attempt to make me feel better.

Not many words were exchanged throughout that time. He stayed sitting on the other side of the couch quietly, almost like he knew his presence would help me or something. I ended up falling asleep at some point, and woke up with my lavender blanket draped over me and no Harry in sight.

We haven't talked about it since. We normally don't discuss our "just for tonight" moments after they happen. Those were the only words exchanged when he stayed, so the night's events haven't been mentioned since. Just like always.

I break away from my thoughts and focus on where I'm going again, turning corners and peeking behind me to make sure he's keeping up.

Maybe it's because I have a drink in me, but I'm feeling spontaneous tonight.

I see him beginning to recognize where we are, this being the street he lives on, after all.

"Are we going to my place?" He furrows his brows.

"Kind of." I actually answer him.

"What's so mysterious about my place?" He questions why I was being cryptic about it earlier.

"I just have an idea. Stop asking questions."

I want him to feel free of all of this shit weighing him down. I meant it when I said I was proud of him. He has been doing so well with this whole getting clean thing, us now nearing week three of sobriety. I know how much he hates it. I know how miserable he feels about it at times.