So here we were once again, back the way we started. Except this time, the ride home seemed so tense which I get.

He's upset about his motorcycle.

I mean, come on! At least he took the news a lot better than me. Apparently his crankshaft is gone. As in, not good anymore. So he's going to have to get a new one and wait for it to be installed. If roles were reversed, I'd probably be holding onto that mechanic's pants legs for dear life, begging him to tell me that he's just joking with me.

Man, I'd be so depressed...

Anyway, enough about me.

Once we ride through his really long driveway, I stop the motorcycle a little away from the front entrance and take off my helmet, turning around as much as I could to look at him.

"Hey..." He looks into my eyes with the same dejected look he left the mechanic's garage with, "It'll all work out, okay?"

All he does is give a faint nod in response and gets off the bike first, resting his helmet in the now empty spot.

Why do I feel so crappy right now? He looks so sad, like a lost puppy and all I want to do right now is just hug him.

He looks like he desperately needs one, to be honest.

So I decide to do just that, "Hey, wait-" except my actions got halted by the clearing of a throat.

And that's when both Harry and I realize who is stood right in front of us.

I feel Harry freeze beside me once his eyes land on the goddess stood before us. The first thing I noticed right away was how tall she was. She literally towered over me. Um hello? Is my name Jack? I don't think so. Though tall, she was thin and god damn, she was tanned. Her medium length pin straight jet-black hair was pulled into a low ponytail. She sported a white graphic crop-top with baby blue mom-jeans and finished with a pair of converse on her feet and sunglasses on her face.

She lifted the sunglasses over her eyes and let it rest on her head, revealing her flawless face.

She's really really pretty.

Yet so familiar...where do I know this girl from? It's killing me!

"Harry!" She reaches forward and slaps his shoulder playfully, "I've been calling and calling. Why weren't you answering your phone, dude?" 'Dude'? I thought he said he doesn't like being called that and only tolerates it when I call him that to piss him up. Her eyes shift towards me, widening slightly as she just notices me and she asks with a wide smile, showing her bright white teeth, "And who's your friend?"

Harry shifts uncomfortably and stumbles over his words, causing my curiosity to grow at his odd behaviour, "Um I-you see- erm...this is um, Mi- Mia"

"Okay..." She looks at him weirdly and turns to me with a friendly smile, "I don't believe we've met. Mia, is it? I'm Kendall...nice to meet you, hun"

I return her greeting, mirroring her friendly smile. But it was still gnawing at me.

Where the heck have I seen her before?

And Porky Pig beside me suddenly has an increased stutter when he opens his mouth so he's no help.

I couldn't help it. "Not to be rude or anything...but do I know you?"

"Oh! Um, probably fro-"

"Why don't you go put the bike in the garage, hm?" Harry abruptly cuts Kendall off and we both turn to look at him with confused faces.

Ladies and gentlemen, Porky has been cured! It's a freaking miracle!

When I don't move, his eyes build such an intensity as he looks at me and glances to the motorcycle behind us and then back to me. So I took the hint. He obviously wants some privacy so I did what he asked.

Getting back on the bike and putting on my helmet, I give a short wave to Kendall and head towards the garage to park.

My curiosity was building by the second, the further away I got from them. I couldn't deny how upset it made me, jealous even, to leave him alone with her.

She's really, really, really pretty.

And it didn't help that I didn't know what kind of relationship they have. He never mentioned her. Not once. And his behaviour just now only made me realize that he was being secretive.

Though I couldn't tell of what exactly. Is it that he was trying to hide me from her...or the other way around.

Once I made sure to turn the ignition off, I quickly got off of the motorcycle, and resting my helmet where I once sat. I whipped out my phone and opened the Google app. I started to type her name into the search bar when something suddenly occurred to me.

I didn't know her full name.

How the heck was I going to find who she was without knowing her name?!

But the feeling of not knowing what was going on was killing me, making my palms sweaty and my skin hot from the quickened pressure of the blood pumping through my veins from adrenaline.

So I still typed her first name into the search bar.

Kendall...

I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth as instant automatic responses appeared before my eyes. My eyebrows knitted together as the top response showed the name Kendall Jenner accompanied with a picture of a woman scarily similar to the Kendall a few feet away.

Not scarily similar.

It IS her.

I clicked on the picture and more images popped up below with her and some other faces that I slowly began to recognize.

The Kardashians. That's why I recognized her. From my not-so-glorious-days of binge watching every single episode of their reality show. I hadn't recognized her at first because of how grown up she became. It'd been a while since I'd watched the show. Probably over 5 years or so, around the time when Mari was born.

And now what? She's modelling? As if I didn't feel insecure enough around her!

I stood shamelessly in the middle of the garage scrolling through articles about her. That was, until I came across a picture of her and Harry together. It seemed that their were at an event together, they smiles gleaming in my face as they laughed at something. My fingers moved fast across the screen before I could stop them, clicking on the link to an article below the picture. My eyes skimmed through the lengthy piece of writing, doing a double take at one phrase that made bile rise up in the back of my throat.

'Harry Styles and girlfriend...'

An instant sickness came over me as I read it over...and over...and over....and over again. I couldn't peel my eyes away from it. It laughed in my face as I thought about what happened between us earlier. Twice.

At least I can say that the mystery has been solved.

Stockholm Syndrome girl was Kendall fricking Jenner this entire time.

And the whole world knew but me.

When I finally got the courage to put my phone away and head inside the house, I accepted the fact that I was in denial of the whole situation. My feet felt like it weighed a couple cows as I dragged it behind me, heading for the garage entrance into the house that would lead me into the kitchen. I kept telling myself that if I tried to forget about what I saw, then it would go away and everything could go back to the way it was.

I knew that was a bad idea.

I knew we shouldn't have done it.

When my hand twists the door knob open, my ears perk up at the sound of voices that I recognize coming directly from the kitchen. Stepping into the kitchen, I sneakily rush behind the wall that the voices were coming from.

Harry starts talking to her in a hushed tone, and my curiosity spikes; I can't help but eavesdrop.

"What are you doing here?" He whispers to Kendall, almost like he really didn't want their conversation to be heard.

Did I stop listening though?

Nahhhh.

Blame it on my genes.

"You texted me to come over, silly. Remember?" She chuckles lightly, clearly not catching on to his urgency to the conversation private.

What?

He texted her?

He'd asked Kendall, his girlfriend, to come to his house?

And he kissed me?

If he texted her before he kissed me, then he should have never kissed me first, and if he texted her after we kissed, then he is just sick. Either way, he still cheated.

We never should have kissed.

You never should have kissed him back.

Now I know for certain, that yes, it was a mistake.

I shake my head in disbelief, then turn on my heel and head back through the garage door, ensuring to still keep a low profile. Once outside, I head for the side patio near the pool and enter the house from there. I enter into the empty living room, take one last glance at the closed kitchen door and then rush up the staircase towards my room, not bothering to stay for the rest of the conversation. Quite frankly, I'm afraid any more and I'd throw up.

Oh God, I'm a homewrecker!