---Paisley---

When I pull into the parking lot of the pub, I look at the clock on the dash that says it's exactly six o'clock. I'm exhausted and just want to go back to my dorm and relax, but unfortunately I agreed to this and I guess free food sounds good right about now, since I've been listening to my stomach growl in protest of the lack of food I've fed it today.  

This whole week has beat me down. The work load from school was a killer. From having to work on media passes every night, plus do Astrid's portraits and edit, I was stuck doing my Landscape assignment today, on a Sunday of all days. The day of rest was more like the day of hell, driving around aimlessly trying to find a decent enough destination for this assignment, almost falling off a cliff and then getting lost on the drive home. It pretty much summed up how I felt the whole week had gone. The irony of falling off the cliff actually made me laugh to myself. The entire week was a complete wreck and I am more than happy it's over with.

I am astounded I made it here on time, but when I look in the rear view mirror before getting out of the car, I'm not sure I even want to enter the pub looking like I do. My cheeks are tinted a light shade of red from too much sun and my hair is a knotted and tossed mess from the wind. I'm not wearing any make up because I left the dorm this morning in a hurry to get away from Nova's questions about what the hell has been wrong with me all week and now I wish I had cared just a little more because of my lack of mascara and the prominent bags under my eyes. But after a day like today, I can't really complain. At least I'm here on time, and that in itself seems like a win.

I find it a bit odd when I get inside, that Nova and Niall aren't here yet. I know it's just after six, but I thought they'd for sure be waiting for me. I decide to take a seat at one of the available booths and wait for them, making sure my thumbs are fitted nicely through the holes of my sleeves, hiding my scars from the world.

I'm rummaging through my purse, trying to find my watermelon lip gloss, when I see out of the corner of my eye, someone slide into the booth across from me. My eyes widen at the sight of Harry, who for some reason has the biggest smile on his face I think I've ever seen and by the way he is looking at me, it's not hard to figure out exactly what's going on. Friggin' Nova! I'm going to kill her--again! 

"What are you doing?" I ask, even though I already know the answer.

"Having dinner with you," he simply replies. His smile turns into a devilish smirk that I'm instantly having visions of smacking off of his face.

"I don't remember inviting you to sit down."

"If I recall correctly, you agreed to a free meal and an alcoholic beverage. Am I right?"

"You recall incorrectly. I said the whole menu."

"Oh right. My bad!"

I'd be lying if I said he didn't look absolutely perfect right now, with his curly hair brushed messily off to the side, his normal bandana look absent and he even wears a button down dress shirt with the top button open, a change from his usual plain white or black t-shirts. It's obvious he has put a little effort into the way he looks right now, which makes me feel a lot more out of place than usual because of the disheveled state I'm in, not having a chance for the slightest of efforts.

"What the hell did I do to deserve this?" I mumble under my breath as I get my phone out of my purse.

To: Nova  6:10pm
I hate you so much right now.

Harry doesn't respond to my mumbling, whether he heard me or not. But I notice his smile doesn't let up, especially when the waiter comes over to ask us what we would like to drink and he orders me a Bellini and himself a beer.

"I can order my own drink, thanks," I say through gritted teeth. I'm so mad at this whole situation. The last person I want to be sitting in a restaurant with right now is Harry, who insists on cheekily smiling at me from across the table, because he's so damn proud of what he's accomplished. And now I'm stuck here.

How could I have been so stupid to have let this happen? I should have known after I stupidly told Nova to ask Harry why my mood was off this week, that she would make him do something to make it up to me, because for all he knows, he's the reason I was feeling like absolute shit to begin with. If only they knew the truth. The only reason I told her to ask Harry was because I wanted to get her off my back, and I knew with the way her bright blue eyes lit up at even the thought of asking Harry, I knew she wouldn't ask any more questions, but I knew it was a mistake and instantly wanted to take back my words. Because this--This is an absolute nightmare. 

Harry had been excessively annoying this week. It felt like every other word out of his mouth was an apology and all I wanted to do, was shove his words up his ass. As much as it hurt looking at him, knowing that he was the reason for the reminder as to why I believe that no one ever has good intentions and why I should always keep a distance, for some reason, I couldn't just ignore him the way I wanted to. I still wanted to keep him close to me. Maybe it was the way his apologies seemed genuine and the look of pure guilt on his face every time he tried explaining himself.

I realized over the course of the week, that yes, it hurt that he was kissing Ruby. That my theory of when you like someone, you simply don't try to hook up with someone else, was wrong. Maybe I'm just a little bit old fashioned and unaware of the times and how things actually work these days, but I finally allowed myself to admit to myself that it didn't just hurt because someone I might have feelings for, was using a girl to get what he wanted. It hurt because he was fooling around with a girl that wasn't me. Even admitting that to myself, hurt, because I knew I wouldn't be able to give him what he wanted anyways. And it was tough to swallow.

It was also tough, because I had to admit to myself that maybe he didn't even have feelings for me. I had come to the conclusion that I have no idea how he actually feels about me. I was just taking into consideration what Astrid had told me, and going off of certain things he had previously said to me or how sometimes he acted like he might actually think of me as more than a friend, but in reality, the words had never come out of his mouth, deeming any sort of truth to the matter, unknown.

And that's why this situation felt like a nightmare.

Harry's smile started to fade once he realized I was going to keep up my silent charade. It's not that I really wanted to stay quiet, I had done that enough this week, it was more of trying to figure out why they had tricked me to come here in the first place, without having to ask him.

"Do you want to split a pizza?" Harry asks, breaking the silence, as we look over our menus.

"What? I'm not allowed to order the whole menu?" I ask sarcastically as I close my menu and place it to the side.

"You can order whatever you like," he tells me politely.

"Pizza is fine, Harry. I was kidding."

"I wasn't sure. Sorry."

He seems to be trying hard to get back on my good side. Almost too hard. Although I like that he is being polite, I'm kind of missing his cockiness and our quick paced banter. I know that it's partly my fault for all of this, giving him nothing to go on all week and probably made him feel like he had to walk on egg shells around me, but I know the only way things are going to go back to normal, is if we go back to the way we were around each other to begin with.

After deciding what to have on our pizza and giving the waiter our order, he watches me carefully as I take a sip of my intoxicating beverage from the straw. "I want you to know how sorry---"

"Please don't say it again, Harry," I sigh. "I know that you're sorry. I know you think you've done something wrong and that you've hurt my feelings. But you haven't. I don't even understand why you think you did."

"But I did hurt you. So would you stop lying. Just for once."

"I'm not lying."

"That's bullshit and you know it!"

I'm at a loss for words. The way he raised his voice and called me out. I'm unsure how to proceed and I know with my sudden lack or response, I've given myself up.

"Why do you do that?" he asks, much quieter than the last time he spoke.

"Do what?"

"Feel like you have to lie to me?"

There's two ways I can answer this question. One, obviously, with the truth, and two, obviously lying again. I can't just tell him the truth without exposing how I might feel about the gorgeous boy sitting across the table from me, but I know that I wont be able to lie forever. I was already exhausted, and lying takes so much out of me. Not really knowing how to answer the question, I stick the straw in my mouth and take a few long sips of my Bellini in hopes it will help me get through this.

"I didn't lie to you, Harry." I decide to lie. "You kissing Ruby didn't upset me."

"But you've been upset since--" He tries to argue.

"I told you I was already in a bad mood when I walked into the studio. Which I was," I counter, thanking my memory for remembering those words came out in the midst of yelling at him that day.

"Okay, so then tell me why you were upset then." He takes a swig of his beer not taking his green eyes off of me. I know he thinks he's got me here. That I wont have an answer, proving him to be right, that he was, in fact, the reason I was so miserable.

"My therapist called me," I tell him. Not a lie. I watch as his expression changes to that of being curious and confused all in one, as he fixes his hand through his hair. It's definitely the first time I have brought this up, knowing it is proving that at one point in my life I had been in the need to talk to a professional.

"You have a therapist?" He doesn't hide the fact that he's definitely shocked to know this information.

"I did have one. I don't anymore." I feel the need to point out that even though I may show signs of still needing one, that I don't talk to someone anymore. Because, ya know, I'm not crazy anymore!

He tilts his head to the side, biting down on his bottom lip. I can tell that his thoughts are circulating. Brainstorming, before responding to me. His thoughts are dismissed when the waiter brings us our pizza and serves us each a slice as Harry asks for another round of each of our beverages, even though mine is only half gone.

He's trying to get me drunk. Dammit.

He waits to say anything until after he's stuffed a few bites of pizza into his mouth. "So, why did your therapist call you?" 

I knew this question was coming, among others. He still needed answers as to why it wasn't him that upset me. "She wanted to make sure I was doing okay in college." I lie. "Going to college was something that my Mom really wanted me to do. It was her big dream that I go to college for photography and become this great photographer so the world would see how great I am!" Not a lie. "My therapist wanted to make sure that being here was doing more good than bad for me because I had expressed I was afraid it would make me miss her even more. I mean, her death wasn't exactly easy for me to deal with, so she was just checking up on me. And it just brought everything back I guess."

I can tell by the concerning look on Harry's face that he is feeling bad for the conversation leading to this, not expecting it at all. I'm sure by some of the conversations he's overheard me having with my Dad had to have made it obvious my Mom wasn't in the picture, but he never asked and I never told him. Talking about my Mom was something I did very little of, but I thought of her every day. I knew she was with me.

He waits for the waiter to leave once again, after placing our new drinks on the table. "I'm really sorry Paisley. I didn't know. What happened to her? I mean, you don't need to answer that."

I take another drink from my straw and focus all my attention on his eyes. He's showing me by keeping them locked on mine, that he wants me to trust him. Visions of him telling me to trust him are playing in my mind. I'm not sure if it's the little bit of alcohol that's coursing through my veins or what it is that makes me think it's okay to let him in just a little bit, but I know that this little bit of information about my life is okay to give away. Trust or not, I still acknowledge the fact he's my friend, and the fact that my Mom is gone, is never going to change whether I tell anyone about it or not.

"Five days after my family moved to Vancouver, my Mom got hit by a car," I explain after taking another few sips of my drink. "She died instantly."

"And that's why you have a therapist? Because your Mom died?" he asks, taking another bite of his pizza. I can tell he feels awkward having this conversation by the way his words have started to come out slower, like he's afraid to say the wrong thing.

"Yeah, I felt like the reason it happened was because of me," I admit. "I'm the only reason my parents moved us to Vancouver in the first place, and if we never moved, she would still be here."

Saying these words out loud, stung the tip of my tongue. I said too much. Yes, I believed what I said to be true, that it somehow was all because of me, but the way I said it, was giving Harry a chance to ask more questions or wonder things about my life that I didn't want to share.

We moved to Vancouver because I was depressed and suicidal, so my parents sought out the best doctor to help me. Dr. Swanson happened to be who they thought was best and so they moved our family from the island to the city. I couldn't remember exactly the reasoning behind my suicidal tendencies, because everything that happened since my Mom died, was so much worse, leaving those reasons, pathetic and forgettable. Either way though, I somehow knew that the series of unfortunate events that was my life, started at this point and I had just opened my mouth far too much.

I decide at this moment, that the alcoholic beverage sitting in front of me is my best friend and down the last of it's peachy flavor in a hurry and slide the second one in front of me. "Anyways," I say, trying to figure out what to change the subject to. "These Bellini's are really good!"

It takes him a second to understand what I'm doing, but when he does, a perfectly dimpled smile forms on his face, allowing the conversation to take a turn. I'm happy he decides to not ask any questions about anything that I've just admitted.

"Shall I order you another?" he asks, sending me a wink.

My phone dings and I look to see who it is before answering Harry.

From: Nova  6:55pm
You know you love me, hunny! Hope you're having fun! We'll see you in a bit for karaoke!

My eyes widen. "Karaoke?" I ask, looking up at Harry. "If you think--"

"Oh, but you are!" He laughs.

"Well, in that case,  you better get me another drink!"

A/N: Sooo, you got to learn a little bit about how karma first played her! And although there's been hints as to what else she's gone through, this really is just the beginning of it all coming out!

Thank you so much to everyone who has read my story so far, voted and commented! Please show some love by voting and commenting to help Karma grow! It would mean the absolute world to me if you did!

xo