"So," Tasha spoke suddenly, breaking the silence between the two of us which had lingered at our table, "are you going to tell me where you've been the past couple of days?"

I sighed, stabbing my fork into a piece of lettuce. It was Friday, and after staying home on Wednesday - I'd decided to stay home on Thursday too. I slept, then - having not slept at all Wednesday, and I felt a lot better, and figured it was about time I stopped living in my own misery, and went back to school.

"I was home," I said honestly, as Tasha shot me a look.

"Look, I might not know you that well, but I'm not an idiot," she raised her eyebrow, and I shrugged, pushing my food around my plate.

"Mmhm," I hummed in response, and I felt a sharp kick under the table, "What the hell?"

"Stop being a miserable bitch and tell me what happened," she commanded, and I rolled my eyes.

"Nothing happened," I insisted, "I was sick. A migraine."

"Where's Harry?" she asked suddenly, "Haven't seen him around school since Tuesday either."

She must've noticed the look on my face and the way I took my lip awkwardly between my teeth, because her eyes suddenly widened.

"Harry.." she trailed off, "you broke up."

"We were never together," I frowned, looking up at her now.

"Sure, not officially," she rolled her eyes, "but you were. What did he do?"

"Will you shut up if I tell you?" I asked rudely.

"I'll consider it," she grinned, and I sighed.

"Tuesday night he got drunk, and high, and then I caught him about to fuck some girl.." I trailed off, blinking back the tears that had began to form in my eyes. Fuck's sake. "And then he said some things.."

"Things?" she pushed gently, placing her hand over mine.

"He told me he hated me.. and that we would never, ever be together. And that I shouldn't have even tried to 'change him'," I swallowed, exhaling deeply to try and fight back the tears threatening to fall.

"Oh, Ana.." her face dropped, a sympathetic look on it, "I'm so sorry."

"Please don't be sorry.." I bit my lip, "I had it coming eventually."

"What an asshole," she huffed, moving a piece of hair from her face, "I can't believe he'd say that shit to you. You're amazing, and you deserve so much better than that."

"Thanks," I said quietly, pushing my tray aside, "has he really not been here all week?"

"Nope," she popped the 'p', and I sighed, I needed to stop worrying about him - he'd proved he could handle himself.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore, I'll just.. I need to forget him for now."

"Totally," she nodded understandingly, her eyes searching the room in thought, "I mean, we could go out tonight. There's a huge party at Alex Murphy's house - it'd take your mind off things."

I grimaced, shaking my head, "I think I'll pass - I just need to eat a pint of ice cream tonight and watch a movie, or something." Like you haven't been doing that all week.

"Aw, come on, Ana," she pleaded, "It'll be good for you."

"Not tonight, Tash," I sighed, playing with my fingers, "not tonight," I repeated as we stood up from our table, walking over to the other side of the cafeteria to stack our trays.

We headed out into the hall, as Tasha rambled on about how it would be a really good idea to go out tonight, in which I simply responded with the shake of my head.

"Ana Levin," I looked up. Sadie, "What's new?"

"What do you want, Sadie?" I asked, glancing at Tasha who looked just as irritated by Sadie's presence as I was.

"I was just wondering how things have been going with Saddo Styles and you," she sniggered, and I resisted the urge to slap her, "y'know, after he got off with that rando at the bar the other night?"

My jaw clenched, "Who told you?"

"Oh, Ana, didn't you hear?" she smirked, "everyone knows - even the people who weren't there that night have heard about it. Louis made sure of that."

"Why are you doing this?" I narrowed my eyes, "just leave me alone."

"Aw, poor Ana," she pouted mockingly, and I blinked slowly, anger beginning to cloud my vision, "can't keep a boyfriend to the point where she likes to mope around for weeks."

"Quit it, Sadie," Tasha spat from beside me, and Sadie giggled obnoxiously.

"But really - it's sad that you and Harry had to end. A failure and a dirty slut sounded like the perfect pair," she snickered, and I shook my head.

"Shut up, Sadie," I began to walk away, but I was stopped within seconds.

"You should be careful though," she licked her lips, and I could feel the knot of anger tie in my chest, "Harry Styles might end up like Caleb Shaw if you don't keep your eye on him-"

That was enough for me - I reached up to connect the palm of my hand with her cheek, my hand stinging immediately due to the animosity I'd used with my hit. She gasped, holding her cheek dramatically.

"Did you just fucking slap me, bitch?" she pressed, chuckling bitterly.

"Ana, come on - let's go," Tasha murmured into my ear as she tried to steer me away from the crowd that was now forming around us.

"Wow, you really outdid yourself this time, slut-"

Before I knew what I was doing, I had her hair in my hand as I tugged it harshly, my palm now connecting with her jaw and catching her by surprise as she yelped. I shoved her back against the locker as everybody jeered, mocking the situation in shock as my anger got the best of me. She leant against the steel, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths, and I backed away. What the fuck did I just do?

I'd never been confrontational - ever. Nor had I ever laid a finger on somebody. That wasn't me - not at all. I didn't know who I was at all when I hit her, and as I allowed Tasha to pull me away and steer me outside, I knew I'd had enough.

"Let's go to the party tonight," I said calmly, before the bell sounded for class to commence.

-

H.

"Bloody hell!" I shouted, slamming the cupboard shut, "Why is there no drink in this fucking house?"

"Because I tossed it out, douchebag," Liam huffed, storming into the kitchen, "and will you stop bloody shouting?"

"Tell me why I invited you here, again," I growled, tying my hair into a bun.

"To keep your psychotic tendencies at bay," Liam grinned, outstretching his hand and waving it in my face, "look at my new tattoo!"

I squinted, grabbing his wrist to study it closer. I really needed to get some better contacts.

"It's shit, what the fuck is that?" I wrinkled my nose as he snatched his wrist from my grip, glaring at me.

"It's roses, you dickhead," he snapped, examining his own hand, "I think it's pretty punk rock."

"Yeah, Liam - nothing says a punk rocker like some minging roses on a man's hand," I scoffed, "it's stupid."

"You're stupid!" he argued, rolling his eyes, "like you don't have stupid tattoos, Styles."

I frowned "My tattoos are actually cool."

"Yeah, no - that 'silver spoon' shit is gay."

"Coming from the one of us who's actually gay?" I scowled, and he nodded.

"Yeah, so it must be really gay," he teased, and I frowned.

"How is gay even an insult?"

"It should be to you, since you're straight."

"Eh, well it's not. I love gay people," I shrugged, as his face lit up, "not you, though."

"Why am I even helping you?" he groaned.

"You're not," I countered, "I'm just having you stay here so I don't do something stupid." I wasn't lying - I didn't trust myself much.

"Why don't you just go get that girl back so I can leave?" he whined, flipping his fringe back as I walked over to the fridge, getting out the milk as I put the kettle on, "god, straights are so complicated."

"She doesn't want me back," I shrugged, putting the teabag in the cup.

"How are you so sure? Wait - nevermind. I wouldn't want you back either," he quipped, and I punched his shoulder, causing him to yelp, "Fuck me!"

"Again, I'm the straight one," I walked across through the doorway into the living room, flopping down onto the sofa.

"You're such a mess," he sighed, and I took a sip of my tea.

"I know," I murmured, chewing down on my bottom lip. I struggled with situations like this - I'd never been through this before - sure, I fucked up a lot, but never had it really mattered to me that much. Now it left with me this emptiness that wouldn't reside - I knew what was missing, it was obvious.

"Can I be dead honest with you, mate?" Liam asked suddenly, and I nodded.

"Knock yourself out," I shrugged, sitting up in my seat as he sat down on the chair opposite me.

"Right - well, you need to sort yourself out. I don't know this girl, but she sounds pretty great, yeah? And you - what - made a mistake? You kissed someone else, which yeah - makes you a total arse, but everyone makes mistakes.. and you were drunk, innit? You just need to man up and apologise."

I frowned, "It wasn't some harmless mistake, I kissed somebody right in front of her. And then afterwards.."

He grimaced a little in anticipation of asking me, "You didn't mention anything about afterwards, Harry.."

"Uhm," I rubbed my hand on the back of my neck awkwardly, "I told her I hated her, among other things which I really can't remember." It pained me to say it out loud - the memories of things I'd told her had come flooding back last night, and I'd pissed myself off even more.

"Ow, what the fuck?!" I yelled as Liam slapped me across my face - not hard, of course - he had the strength of a baby kitten, but still.

"You deserved that," he scowled, "that was for Amelia."

"Ana," I rubbed my cheek, shooting him a look.

"I know, that's what I said," he frowned, "but, anyway. That's out of order, man - she must really hate you, now."

"Not helping, Liam," I huffed, he was just telling me what I already knew.

"Whatever - what are you going to do about it then?" he pressed, and I sighed.

"Nothing," I said simply, downing the rest of my tea and setting the mug on the table in front of me, "I want what's best for her, and what's best is that I stay away."

"You sound so wet right now," he looked me up and down in the most judgemental way possible.

"Shut the fuck up," I groaned, already feeling myself become more annoyed with him. I just wanted to be alone, now.

"You need to talk to her."

"Liam, you don't think I want to?" I snapped, "you don't think I want her here right now? You don't think I want to apologise to her, tell her how I feel?"

"How do you feel?" he said gently, and I exhaled.

"That girl means so damn much to me," I closed my eyes for a moment, rubbing my hands over my face, "I promised her I'd change - for her."

"Right, so change for her," he frowned as if it were obvious.

"I thought I did," I said honestly, "I really, really thought I did." I'd never be able to change.

"You need to try harder."

"Fuck, I did," I groaned, "I tried so hard, and it was going so well.."

"Then fix it, Harry," Liam pressed lightly, and I sighed deeply.

"She's so much better off without me. She's so incredible, and I'm.." I trailed off, "she deserves somebody who will care for her properly, give her what she wants, not tell her drunken lies, not cheat on her.."

"Stop fucking moping," Liam huffed, "true love will prevail! You need to fix this. Tomorrow, we'll go to her house."

"We?" I frowned.

"Well, duh - I want to meet this bitch. "

"She won't want to see me," I argued, "I hurt her only a few days ago."

"Look at me."

"What?"

He leaned in, "Look at my face."

"Okay.."

"Does this look like the face of a person who gives a fuck?"

I scowled at him, shoving him back from me, "Fine. Tomorrow."