"I often think of the girl I used to be, before everything changed. Before I really understood the world around me. How oblivious I once was, thinking that my life was perfect. That my family was perfect. I was happy, always smiling, and had a great imagination. The world was my oyster and I thought I could be anything I dreamed of.

I long to be this girl again. I know that she is there, but for some reason she's hiding just below the surface. How I just want to dance with the stars again. Run the field and down the hill with the wind in my hair, to feel freedom at it's finest. To feel a happiness in my heart that now just feels empty. One day, I know my heart will be full—when I leave this town. When I am able to get out of this place, away from everything that has pushed me down. Just leave, on my journey to finding myself.

I remember the day I saw the truth for the first time. The day that changed everything. I tried to save her, and only got caught in the crossfire, making my world turn upside down. It made me see everything in a different light, and how everything I thought was perfect, was nothing but a lie.

We all have reasons to shut ourselves in. Avoid the truth we know is there. This is mine. Because if people who are supposed to be the most important people in your life can hurt you, it just means everyone else can.

And they do.

The one person in my life, who used to be mine and now isn't, knows the truth and how it's been. We were once inseparable. The best of friends for life. And somehow, this life I seemed to have been stuck in, only made us grow closer. He was always my go-to, and he always helped me find my way back. And maybe that's why I loved him so much. I see now that it happened for all the wrong reasons. We were together because he saw that I needed some kind of love and appreciation, which he thought he was capable of giving me. But it was never the kind of love that lasts, because it wasn't palpable the way our friendship was and I am only good at shutting the best of people out, and he gave up on trying to keep me. A losing battle that was lost from the start.

It's so strange when I think about the reality of it. He used to love me, once upon a time, and now he's just a stranger who knows all of my secrets. And maybe that's why I can't let go of him the way I probably should have a long time ago. Because he's the only one who knows just about everything, and that is the scariest thing of all.

If you know me, legitimately me, and somehow not judge me and accept me completely, flaws and all, I will never, ever let you go.

Girl_Disconnected"

Usually the first few days of the week, I like to go home right after school, because they're the only days I get to enjoy my house to myself. I actually get to watch some television in the living room and make myself some dinner and tidy up a little before Mom leaves her room or even gets out of bed.

But this week, Kate and Maddy finally got their wish. The girl who worked the wardrobe for the school musical, dropped out because apparently no one wanted to work with her, and for some reason, they felt the need to sign me up to do it. They had been begging me for weeks to sign up so they would have a chance to see me more than the norm, but I'm not one for extra curricular activities like they are. That was until Mrs. Andrews found me on the way to Art class this morning telling me how excited she was that I was finally getting involved with something, and I didn't have the nerve to tell her I didn't want to do it, despite how thrown off I was about it, because she looked so relieved to have a replacement.

And so, for the first time, instead of making my way home from school, I'm walking into the auditorium to find out what exactly one who works wardrobe, does.

Oh yay. How the fuck did I get so lucky?

The auditorium is dark, other than the lights illuminating the stage. I proceed to walk down the isle unsure if I'm just early or if I'm even in the right place, realizing Maddy and Kate seemed to have left out this little detail of where I'm supposed to be, and wishing I had cared enough to ask questions instead of bitch at them the whole lunch hour for doing this to me.

I'm happy when I hear voices coming from the front, followed by a light strum of a guitar, and notice as I get closer to the stage, there are a few people down the few steps where the band plays. When they notice my presence, they all stop what they're doing to stare at me. My eyes meeting those of Niall, Liam, Louis and stopping on Harry, who is looking at me with a curious expression on his face.

"Are you lost, Jayde?" Louis asks from behind the keyboard.

"Not sure," I answer, running my hand through my hair, uncomfortably, looking around at all the empty seats behind me. "I think this is where I'm supposed to be—I'm working on wardrobe. Why isn't anyone else here?"

"Practice doesn't start until four thirty," Niall explains, plugging his bass into the amp. "And wardrobe is that way." He points to side stage, where I'm assuming the wardrobe room is, and I nod my head making them think I know where he means, before I start making my way towards the stairs to the stage. 

"Thanks."  

I can feel Harry's eyes on me as I try not to look at him as I walk passed them, much like I have felt the last couple days when we were in the same room. Funny how what we're doing is secretive, yet he's not discreet about the way he looks at me no matter where we are in school. Even from across the cafeteria today, I could feel his eyes burning a hole through me from across the room the entire lunch hour, even though he had his arm around Chelsea.

"I'll take you there," I hear Harry say quickly, and before I know it, he's walking beside me up the stairs to the stage. I glance up at him to see he's already got his eyes set on me with a smirk on his face. Seeing it's clear in his features what's going through his mind, I can't help but roll my eyes at him, despite the eruption of butterflies in my stomach.

He makes me feel nervous and excited at the same time. The way his closeness to me makes me feel weak in the knees, but confident in a way I've never been before. I like this new sense of being I feel when he's this close to me, and when he grabs my hand as we round the corner through the curtains, my heart starts to beat a rhythm I'm becoming very fond of. The pattern I know only he can trigger inside of me. The same rhythmic beat that intensifies with every single one of his touches.

He pulls me into a small room in behind the stage, shutting the door quietly, leaving us in complete darkness, until he pulls the string from above us, brightening the small space just enough for me to see we're in what looks to be a props closet. "Clearly you've been here before," I say, raising my eyebrows, looking up at the string, realizing how easily he found it in the darkness.

He pushes my body back into the shelves behind me as he cups my face with his hands. His eyes instantly on my lips, before moving their way back up to look me in the eyes. "Not with another girl, if that's what you mean."

My heart starts to pound harder in my chest, thinking maybe I've got it all wrong about him. Or maybe I don't. Maybe he just hasn't been in this particular closet with another girl, or he's lying. I know I'm not going to find out though, and that's fine. He can remain a mystery to me all he wants, because as soon as his lips press against mine, I can't seem to care about finding out anything.

His hands move slowly down my back, stopping on my bum and squeezing it, pulling me closer to him. "Working on the musical now, huh?" he asks, when his lips part from mine, before meeting the skin of my neck. "Just had to find a way to be close to me, I see."

"That's not how it is," I tell him as my eyes shut. With his lips on me, I feel like I'm floating. "No need to be cocky. I didn't know you were going to be here."

He doesn't stop his assault on my neck as I lift his shirt to have contact with his skin. My need to be feel closer to him growing by the second. How quickly he makes me feel this way. Lost in him, fixed on his scent and his tongue sliding up my neck to just below my ear.

"I'm happy you're here," he whispers in my ear. "I've been thinking about this all day."

The way he whispers in my ear so seductively, turns me on more, making me crash my lips forcefully to his. My hands make their way to his hair, tangling my fingers in his curls. "I know you have," I say between breaths. "You've been staring at me."

He ducks his body down to latch his lips to my collarbone. Kissing down my chest and cupping my boobs and squeezing, making a light moan fall from my lips. I'm thankful for wearing a tank top as his mouth finds its way between my breasts, kissing there as goosebumps rise on my skin, before moving his way back up, his lips meeting mine once more. 

His touch is so powerful. I feel like I would do anything to keep this feeling from ever ending. I don't need air, or thoughts, or even gravity. He takes me to the stars—or he brings them to me. Either way, he surrounds me in them. And I don't need anything else, except them, and him.

"God, you're so addictive," he whispers, his gaze on me. Pupils dilated, lust written in them. His want for me clearly visible in his words, in the expression on his face, as he looks into my eyes. "I'm addicted to you, sweet girl. I can't get enough of you."

He grinds his hips into mine, pushing me back against the shelves again roughly as he presses his lips to mine again. The world all of a sudden falls around us, or so it seems, as the props on the shelves above, tumble down on us.

He lets out a breathy laugh as he pulls away from me, looking around at the mess that has suddenly appeared at our feet, rubbing the top of his head. "Closets seem to be bad luck for us. That bloody well hurt."

"I'm sure a bunch of hats didn't hurt you. Don't be such a baby," I laugh. "Besides, if you could just keep it in your pants, we wouldn't be in this closet and that wouldn't have happened."

"Oh, sweet girl," he says, picking up the Mad Hatter's hat. "You can't possibly try to tell me you don't like being in this closet with me."

He's right. I can't deny the fact that I'm just as satisfied to be here as he is, right now. I just don't want to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him out loud, despite how obvious it is. And even though I know I shouldn't be here in the first place, and shouldn't be late for my first day in wardrobe, I take the Mad Hatter hat he's holding and put it on his head.

"I would dream up someone who's half mad," I say, pretending to be Alice.

I watch as his eye brows move up and down, a crazy smile set on his face as he looks at me. "Yes, yes. But you would have to be half mad to dream me up."

We laugh at how pathetic we seem to be, and I am quite pleased with how he went along with this little scene, despite how stupid it may have been, because this is not something that I would normally do. "If I'm half mad, it's because you made me that way!"

"I don't have a problem taking credit for that," he laughs, as he bends down to rummage through the hats. "Ah! Perfect!" He picks up a witch hat and places it on my head.

I raise my eyebrows at him and cross my arms. "You think a witch hat is perfect for me?" 

"I actually wouldn't know, would I?" he smiles, dimples indenting his cheeks. "You could be a witch. Bitch, whatever. I'd have no clue, but I could imagine you are."

People may think I'm a bitch because I keep to myself quite a bit, and I know that I can be if I want to be. But once again, he's right. He wouldn't have a clue, because he doesn't know me, just like I wouldn't know if he's actually half mad. "Think what you want because—I'll get you my pretty, and your—"

He interrupts my little attempt to be the Wicked Witch of the West by pushing my body back against the shelves, his eyes set on mine so fiercely as his fingers dig deep into my skin around my waist. "You already got me," he whispers, before crashing his lips to mine.

There's nothing worse than being interrupted in a moment like this, as I'm finding out, listening to my phone ring in my purse. I'm trying to ignore it, allowing my tongue to play with Harry's for a little while longer, not wanting this moment to end. But when the third call rings through, he parts his lips from mine and sighs. "I guess that's our cue."

I sift through the hats on the floor to find my purse, quickly taking out my phone to see Maddy has been the one annoying us. "Where are you?" she screams into the phone when I answer, as I take the witch hat off my head and stand back up. I look at Harry who's adjusting himself and I let out a laugh at the sight before me.

"Calm down," I say, rolling my eyes. "I got lost. Harry is bringing me there right now."

"Well, hurry it up!" I hear her say before I hang up. 

Planning to open the door, I put my hand on the door knob, but Harry grabs my other hand to stop me, turning me back around to look at him. He brushes the hair out of my face and smiles. "Might want to fix this." He leans in and pecks the side of my mouth, and using his finger, he slides my zip up hoodie down my shoulder, pressing his lips ever so lightly to my jaw and leaving a trail of kisses down my neck and to the top of my shoulder. "Just had to have one last taste."

"Until next time," I say, opening the door.

The wardrobe room isn't far. I most definitely could have found it on my own, without the help of Harry. And I could have been on time if he didn't pull me into yet another closet. As much fun as it was in that closet with him, it just made me want him more, and now I'm stuck walking into this wardrobe room that's full of people I don't want to see, unable to touch him like I so desperately want to.

"Finally!" Maddy belts out, storming over to us as we walk in. "Only you would get lost in a school you've went to for four years! Honestly, how did you not know where wardrobe was?"

"She doesn't care about stuff like this," Harry answers for me. "Even I know that!" He walks away from us when his friends call him over and I watch as he gives each of the girls a hug on the other side of the room.

Of course they're all in this stupid musical.

It's been at least twenty minutes and I've been trying to listen to Mrs. Andrews explain to me whatever it is that I need to know, but I'm not picking up anything she's saying because Harry is still in the room, with his arm around Rachel, laughing at just about everything Chelsea has said, along with some of the rest of their friends who are apparently in the musical.

Chelsea's blog has always been at the top of my reading list. It's where I find out about most things that happen outside of school, and she has hinted around about Rachel's crush on Harry multiple times. And because Rachel is her best friend, she obviously wants to see them together. They're always at the top of her list of people she thinks need to be together. Who would be cute together. And Definite Future Couples lists. Despite all of this, Harry puts his arm around all the girls he hangs out with, not just Rachel. And so nothing about this situation in front of me, bothers me. It doesn't effect me, whatsoever. It's the same scene as usual. But for some reason, I can't seem to pay attention to what I'm supposed to be doing.

I've caught a few words from Mrs. Andrews about how everything for wardrobe has been done already by the girl who quit, and so my job, whatever it is that she just explained to me, doesn't really start until everyone's actually wearing their outfits. Why I have to be here now, I will never understand.

This. is. Torture.

I'm happy when everyone leaves the room for practice, but shocked is an understatement, when I see Harry walk down the hallway with his arm around Maddy's shoulder in front of Kate and I. She has her arm wrapped around his waist, looking up at him and laughing at something he said to her. Strange how you miss things when you don't get involved, because I had no idea they were even friendly with each other. Clearly, I need to pay more attention to even what my best friends are doing these days.

I sit down in the front row of seats to watch them, seemingly lost in my own thoughts. I thought I knew a lot. At least with my friends. Seeing Maddy with Harry doesn't bother me, but the fact I had no idea they were friends seems to. It makes me wonder how much I really know about the people around here. I thought I knew everything. I know that lately my mind has been preoccupied with a certain someone, and things at home have been getting to me even more lately, but maybe I need to think if any of it is really important. Because it really shouldn't bug me as much as it is.

I know it isn't. I just liked the idea of knowing things.

My mind wanders back to Harry. And Chelsea's blog. Looking at him and the way he is with girls, you would automatically assume the girlfriend-less boy who flirts and constantly has his arm around one of his overly happy friends, sleeps around. And with me, those thoughts seemed to have been deemed true, because why else would he have wanted to sleep with me to begin with?

But I have been following Chelsea's blog for a good two years, and not once do I remember reading about who Harry has slept with. Everyone else in the school I know about, because somehow Chelsea knows all that information about everyone and for some reason, she enjoys writing about it. Weird if you ask me—but entertaining to say the least.

I wonder how many other girls he's keeping a secret. I like that I'm his secret, but now that this seems to be something that is ongoing, something that isn't going to end any time soon, considering I know now that he thinks he is addicted to me, I don't like the idea that he has other girls like me that are secrets.

If this is going to continue, which I want it to, I need to make sure he's not doing this with anyone else.

Or I'm out.

A/N: I am so sorry for how long this took me to update!
Thanks for 1.6K reads! Love you so so much!!

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amberlove

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