At the moment, I want to turn back time. I want to erase this entire day, so that everything that happened could just disappear. Too many words had been spoken between us. Too much truth. I had let my walls down far too low today when we talked in his room. I allowed for myself to be too comfortable with him when it came to saying things out loud, and I don't know if he could sense that the walls were lowered and that's why he thought it was okay to let out this secret of his to me, but I can feel myself building them back up again as I look at him.

I'm not sure what he wants me to say and I don't really want to speak, fearing that what just blurted from his lips has changed everything. Sure, he already knows my biggest secret — it didn't mean I wanted to know his.

I don't want to know his secrets. I'm not in this to become his BFF. I don't want to share anything with him, unless it involves tongue and a mattress. And it's clear as I start to walk away from him in the direction of my house, when the last few months start to reel through my brain, that there has been too many times we have shared more than just tongue, which brought us to this moment. A moment in which I know that I am not here to replace a girl who was once the love of his life. We are just friends —with benefits. And I'm not quite sure if the status of friends should even be there.

"Are you going to say something?" Harry asks, as he follows me through the trees. He sounds shocked, which doesn't surprise me, considering I did just walk away from him after he told me something kind of huge.

"No," I answer, not turning to face him.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to talk about it, Harry," I tell him as we enter my back yard.

"I just told you something, no one other than my family ever knew," he says, grabbing my wrist to spin me around to face him. "And you don't want to talk about it?"

"I told you not to tell me." I look up at him to see he looks dumbfounded. "We aren't best buddies Harry. We don't share secrets. We fuck. Let's keep it that way."

"You are so fucking confusing," he says, running his hands through his hair and pulling at the ends. "One minute you're hot and the next you're cold. I don't get it. I don't know what to expect from you. I don't know what you're thinking or feeling — "

"And it's better that way," I retort. "Almost every time we open our mouths, we fight. So let's just keep the talking to when you tell me you want me next, okay?"

"You're not serious!"

He follows me to the bottom of my ladder, where I turn around and look at him. "Stay here, please."

"What?"

"Please?"

He looks at me for a few moments before he sits down in the grass with a pout, making me roll me eyes.

I let out a long breath as I climb my ladder. I'm hoping that my parents aren't fighting downstairs, and I can pack a bag in silence. As soon as I open the window though, I am happy that Harry is still down at the ground, because I can hear the yelling back and forth.

I listen to the words Dad is forcing my mom to hear as I grab a backpack from my closet. Words a woman should never be called. And to listen to her scream back that he made her that way, is heartbreaking.

I quickly pick a few different pairs of pants, some pajamas and cute shirts. Making sure to pack my tooth brush and shampoo and all the essentials so that I don't need to use anything of theirs. I decide to stuff my laptop into my bag, because more than anything, I feel like I need to write. And there's no way I will go a whole weekend without doing just that.

When I climb back out the window, bag in hand, Harry isn't where he was when I went inside just a few minutes ago. I sit down on the roof and contemplate this. He left without me because he's mad at me — again. And now I don't know what to do. 

We are so unbelievably frustrating together. It's fucking ridiculous.

I take some time to decide if I should go back to his house or if I should just stay here. Listening to my parents is already making my heart pound. It's giving me anxiety that I don't want to feel. As awkward as it's going to be now to go back to his house without him, I know I have to, regardless of how uncomfortable I all of a sudden feel. My backpack is there. Harry's Mom thinks I'm staying there. I have to go back.

I curse to myself all the way back to his house, muttering under my breath at how much I hate this situation more than anything . What a douchebag he is, for just leaving me there. Maybe I deserved it — a little. But dammit, this is more awkward than I can handle.

I stand on his porch, looking at the front door before me, shaking my head. Hey Anne. I'm here to stay at your house, even though your son is currently pissed off at me. Yeah. This isn't awkward at all.

Fuck. My. Life.

Not long after forcing myself to ring the doorbell, does Anne open the door. She looks at me concerned, and I just feel stupid. "Is everything okay?" she asks, opening the door wider for me to come in.

"Yeah, everything is fine."

"Harry came back without you," she says, taking my bag from me. "I wasn't sure if you were coming back or not. He wouldn't tell me anything before he went upstairs."

"Oh — well, you know boys," I fake laugh. "They act so strange sometimes."

"Did you want to go and get him and we'll watch that movie now?" she asks. "How about some ice cream?"

My heart is pounding in my chest as I look at her. She has been so kind to me, and I want so badly to tell her I don't want to watch a movie right now, and I'm afraid I'm going to hurt her feelings or something, and I don't want to open my mouth. She stares back at me with her eyebrows raised, clearly waiting for me to respond.

"Maybe it would be better if we watched a movie tomorrow night," I say, quietly. "I mean, if you're not busy or anything. I'm kind of tired and should probably get to bed early— ya know, school tomorrow."

"Oh, you wouldn't want to hang out with me on a Friday night," she smiles. "But if you just want to go to bed, that's okay."

I follow her up the stairs and down the hall to the spare room at the end of the hall. The door to Harry's room is closed and I can hear he's listening to Smashing Pumpkins really loudly. The spare room is nice and cozy with a double bed. The comforter and the curtains a matching maroon color and the carpet is white and fuzzy and feels nice on my bare feet. Anne places my bag on the bed and looks at me.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" she asks, as Riley walks in and jumps on the bed.

I smile at her, feeling the empathy in her voice. I know that she genuinely cares about my feelings and her question instantly warms me. "Everything is perfect. Thank you for letting me stay here."

She smiles back. "Tomorrow night, I'd love to watch a movie with you — even if Harry has plans. Unless of course you want to go with him," she tells me, making me smile at her as she backs away towards the door. "Well, we can talk about it tomorrow. You have a good sleep." She tells Riley to go with her, but he stays in the spot in the middle of the bed as his eyes move between the two of us.

"Would it be alright if he stayed with me for a while?" I ask.

She smiles, pulling the door halfway closed. "Sleep well, love."

I've never had a dog. But there is something comforting about having one curl up next to me, as I slip under the covers with my pajamas on with my laptop on my lap. He makes me feel less alone, less unhappy, more comfortable and almost loved. I mentally add it to the list of things that I'm going to get when I'm older. When I get out of this town and start a new life in a place I'm not fully sure of yet. Although I don't know where I'm going to end up one day, among all the other things I do know I'm going to have, a dog is now at the top of my list. Something I never thought I'd put there.

"When you have walls up as high as I do, it seems impossible to let someone else in. To fight with someone who wants to take care of you, to give you a break that you're in desperate need of. I wanted to be grateful that he wanted to take me away from it. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and scream how thankful I am. Instead, I gave him a piece of my mind, the way it would normally come out. Not screaming what I wanted. But the opposite.

Because I am fighting. There are days that I'm numb. There are days I feel too much. And the days in between, I just feel lost. Unsure of everything around me. I don't know what to think or how to feel, or how to be or act, because everything is so overwhelmingly confusing.

I want to think that I've come up with the reason as to why I'm so all over the place. And I think it's because I've been alone in this for so long. I've been in control of everything. I fight my own battles and depending on the person, I usually win. But either way, I fight them. I know what I can handle and when things get to be too much. I know when the walls must be built higher or when I need to lower them.

But there are times when I just don't have a clue anymore. I don't know if the battles I'm fighting are right or wrong, when to put my walls down or even if I should. And every time I feel as though it's getting easier to let the walls down, I end up putting them back up, forcing myself back into the corner I feel like I belong in. I'm safe inside my walls, as if I'm in a comfy little fort, where no one can hurt me — and I can't hurt them.

I used to think I wanted to know everyone's secrets. I wanted to know what people were thinking at any given time and know exactly who they were behind the surface. I liked secrets. And I liked knowing them. Not to use them against them in any way, just solely to know them, as if I held some kind of importance just because I knew something about someone no one else did.

But when a secret comes out, and somehow it hits you harder than anything else, it makes you wonder what kind of importance you hold for knowing it. I know I wasn't meant to know this one. And yet, it was let out. 

And just like almost every secret does, this one made me see him differently. I can't have that happen right now. It's not what I want. The timing is all wrong and it's not supposed to be this way. I know what I have to do to make it go away — I just don't think I'm ready for that either.

I guess only time will tell. And I will know when I have to do what I have to.

Girl_Disconnected"

There's a knock at the door that wakes me from my slumber. My eyes shoot open as I look around the room, my mind taking its time to remember where I am in its sleepy state. It's only when I hear Harry's Mom's voice on the other side of the closed door, that I realize I'm at Harry's house.

She opens the door when I say she can come in. Her hair is up in a messy pony tail, still wearing her pajamas, and she smiles at me as I rub my eyes. "Good morning, dear," she says. "I'm going to make breakfast. If you want a shower, you should get to the bathroom before Harry does. I've put a towel in there for you already."

"Thank you," I simply say as I sit up in bed, looking at the clock next to me seeing it reads 6:45am. It doesn't surprise me that Anne is out of bed and she's going to make breakfast. Everything about her screams that she is that kind of Mom.

She closes the door behind her and I fall back onto the pillow. This bed is by far the most comfortable bed I have ever slept on, and I had the most glorious sleep of my life, sunk into fluffy pillows and the nicest smelling duvet. I never want to get out of it. I want to spend the day under the covers and make this spot my home forever.

Except I know that I have to face the day. I have to face Harry after remembering he left me last night. He didn't try to talk to me since I got here. He didn't knock on my door or even text me. And I wonder how things are going to go today.

I know that what I said was bitchy. But maybe, just like some things in life, it had to be said. He wanted to know what I was thinking and feeling and it was clear that when I said it, he didn't like it. Enough for him to leave me high and dry. Maybe that was his way of telling me to stay home. Maybe he didn't want me to come back here. Maybe he doesn't even know that I slept here?

Now I'm panicking. And I really don't want to get up.

Everything about this home is clean. But not clean in a way you don't want to touch anything and are uncomfortable with it. Clean and lived in and gives off a very homey-like feeling. The contrasting differences from my home to his are more noticeable than I want to divulge. It's all better at his house.

Even the water pressure is better in the shower. And they have a radio sitting on a shelf above the toilet, which I happily turned on, to enjoy some music while I shampoo my hair, in hopes that my anxiety levels lower with some tunes.

I try not to take too long, so I don't use up too much hot water, turning off the shower as soon as my hair is washed. I open the curtain to get my towel and let out a scream at the sight before me, holding the curtain over my body to hide myself from him.

Harry is standing in front of the sink, tooth brush in his mouth, staring at me with wide eyes.

"Harry!" I scream. "What the fuck? What are you doing in here? Get out!"

"I'm sorry," he says quickly, taking the tooth brush out of his mouth. "I thought my Dad was in here. I — I'm so sorry. I didn't even know you were here."

"Oh, you thought I stayed home, did you?" I ask, taking the towel off the toilet seat and closing the curtain. "Is that what you wanted? Is that why you left?"

"Will you keep your voice down?"

"You're so frustrating, ya know that?" I step out of the tub with the towel now wrapped around my body. 

"I can't even talk to you properly," he mutters, rolling his eyes at me.

"The shower's all yours," I tell him, walking passed him to open the door. "I'll see you at breakfast."

What is wrong with me?

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Why do I keep arguing with him? Everything that comes out of my mouth is all wrong. I am so frustrated with myself. I keep making him mad at me, because I can't seem to be anything less than a bitch to him lately. He's not frustrating — It's me. It's all me.

Fuck.

When I'm done getting ready for the day in the room I'm staying in, I walk out the door into the hallway at the same time as Harry opens the bathroom door. His hair is wet and curly, he's dressed in a black t-shirt and blue skinny jeans look better than ever, and neither of us move as we stare at each other from the doorways we just came from.

"Are you going to say anything?" he asks. 

"Can we just get along in front of your mom, please?" I ask, stepping by him and walking down the hall.

"You don't need to stay here any longer if you don't want to," he says. 

I turn around to look at him, wanting for him instantly to take back his words. I don't want to go home. I don't want my stay here to end like this. I just got here. Even though I wasn't really sure about the whole idea yesterday, I already know, after just one night, that I'd rather be here than anywhere near my home.

"Do you want me to leave?" I ask, looking down at the ground.

"That's not what I said." He takes a few steps to stand in front of me, making me look up to look him in the eyes. I feel a force that tells me I should kiss him at this very moment, but I fight the urge, because we need to go for breakfast and we can't have sex right now. And without being able to have sex, there's no point in kissing him.

"I can't leave," I tell him, stepping away from him. "I have a movie date with your mom tonight."

We walk down the stairs together, and I can feel that Harry wants to ask questions as his eyes burn a hole in the back of my head the whole way to the kitchen.

"Good morning," Anne chirps as we walk in. "Have a good shower Jayde?" She starts laughing out loud and it doesn't take very long for my face to heat up realizing she heard me scream at Harry. "You should probably knock next time you go in there, Harry. That wasn't very gentleman-like."

I can't remember the last time I sat at a table and had breakfast placed in front of me, but as soon as it happens, seeing Anne smile at me as she sits across from me, I feel sad knowing that I won't have this forever. I told myself that I wouldn't be envious of anything this weekend and that I would be happy that I'm getting it even for just a few days, but I know, with everything in me, that it's going to be harder to go home after this weekend.

And the loneliness inside my heart is just going to be worse than ever when it's over. And I'm uncertain if I'll be able to handle it.

A/N: Thoughts?

So, I'm super excited because on October 1st, WattCon is happening in New York City! It wasn't a hard decision when I found out about it. I knew I HAD to go to it! I've never been to New York before. I've never planned a trip on my own before. And so this was something that I didn't think in the end would happen, because usually things that scare me, don't happen.
BUT, I booked my trip! I'm going to New York for 5 days! I'm going to WattCon to meet other authors and lovers of Wattpad and I have never been more excited for anything! I took that step through fear that I had to, so that for once, I can experience something great for me and only me. And I will get to meet so many awesome people there!

So, if you haven't booked your trip, you should! Wattcon is waiting for you! ☺☺☺

So......WHO'S GOING TO WATTCON?

Don't forget to press the star! Thank you so much for 22.5K Reads! ♥♥♥

Much Love,
amberlove