A.

"Anastasia, for goodness sake - you're late for school," came the thick French accent of Edelie, the highly irritating woman who enjoyed to be on my case at all times of the day, "Hurry up."

I huffed, standing up from my bed to swing the door open, "I think you'll find I don't have to leave for another ten minutes, Edelie," I scowled at the obnoxiously tall woman who pursed her red lips and ran a smooth hand over her tight blonde bun.

"Excuse me, Ana-" she began to scoff, and I cut her off quickly.

"It's Miss Levin to you," I snarled, pushing past her towards the stairs. I wasn't sure I hated anybody more than I hated Edelie. She was rude, disapproving, and to be blunt - an absolute bitch. My mother had brought her in to 'replace' Celia - Celia being somebody I tried my best not to think about too much, but I was only reminded by my constant yearn to have her back - only encouraged by the shitty attitude of Edelie. I couldn't help but hate her - she was here to help me, yes - but I'd tried my best to be nice to her for the first month, until it became clear she was a total asshat, and was only in it for the money. She was narcissistic, unapproachable - and I just plain despised her. She was constantly repeating my own mother's words to me, prodding me about 'staying in line', and butting into things that didn't concern her.

I was finding that in a lot of people, recently - they all liked to butt into things that didn't concern them.

"Ana," Anders called from the kitchen as I reached the bottom of the stairs, "You still don't want me to drive you to school?"

"No thanks," I said bluntly, heading for the door as I heard a scoff from the corner of my room.

My mother sat, one leg crossed over the other and a coffee in her hand, "Just ignore her, Andrew - she's still being a brat."

It was now my turn to scoff, "A brat? Because I don't want anything from you?" It was true - I'd refused to accept a thing from my mother since her and my father had sent Harry away, and I tried to have as little to do with them as possible.

"I heard you were rude to Edelie again," she said pointedly, shooting me a glare as I wandered closer to the table where she sat.

"Nothing she didn't deserve," I retorted, folding my arms, "Can I go, now? I have a while to walk."

"Oh, please, Anastasia," my mother waved her arm dismissively, "when will you ever get over that pathetic little fling of yours? The boy is gone."

"And whose fault is that?" I felt my blood boil as she threw her head back in laughter, shooting me a disapproving look.

"Yours, I think you'll find. Get over it - it's been months. Now go to school," she sent me a patronising smile, as she waved her hand for me to leave.

I clenched my jaw, swinging my bag onto my shoulder, "I hate you so fucking much," I mumbled as I turned to walk out of the room, only to hear her return a 'ditto'. I shook my head, storming out of the house and onto the sidewalk.

Much to my mother's unawareness - Tasha was picking me up, which I was more than thankful for as she pulled up outside my house, turning the car radio down for a moment.

"Hey, babe!" she exclaimed, pushing her sunglasses back through her hair, "hurry up - I took the car and now Tiff is throwing a tantrum since Louis won't pick her up."

I laughed, unsurprised at her never-faltering obnoxious sister - I could picture the very tantrum she was throwing - frankly, I was surprised Louis even put up with it. I hadn't seen much of him in the past six months; he was still close with Sadie and Jake and the rest of their minions; but he was often preoccupied with his abhorrent 'girlfriend', Tiff.

I'd never understood the two of them as a couple - they were so different - Louis so easily irritated, and Tiff so goddamn irritating. At first we'd all put it down to pissing Harry and I off - Louis was with her just to spend more time with our group and get under our skin; especially Harry's. But now, he was gone. So for Louis, it was just a game of annoyance.

I almost felt bad for Tiff; she was incredibly obnoxious, but she was in love with a guy who she'd been dating for near enough seven months now - a guy who didn't even like her much - even a fool could see that.

"Luke, get in the back so Ana can sit in the front with me," Tasha nodded to her boyfriend beside her, who gasped in fake offence.

"Oi, no!" he protested, "Ana can sit in the back!"

Tasha went to argue, but I chuckled, "I'm getting in the back, both of you can shut up."

"This is why you're my favourite," Luke grinned, sending me a smile as I shut the car door. I liked Luke Hemmings - he was sweet and funny, and perfect for Tasha. They had started dating three months ago, and had been more or less inseparable since. Luke was captain of the football team, and miraculously - he wasn't a total jerk. He was pretty shy, actually, and had been rather hesitant to get to know me - but once he did, he'd become a lot more open, and we'd become good friends.

The drive to school consisted of Tasha bickering playfully with Luke, resulting in him leaning over to kiss the side of her head as we pulled up to school.

"You two are gross," I wrinkled my nose, grabbing my bag as Tasha pulled into a parking space.

"Ah, shut up, Ana," Luke shot me a grin, wrapping his arm around Tasha's head and drawing her in to kiss her hair, "We'll get you a boyfriend someday, yeah?"

I felt a sudden pang in my chest, as Tasha leaned back, smacking his chest lightly as he whined in response. I shook my head, getting out of the car, "I don't need a boyfriend."

As I headed towards the entrance of school, I silently cursed myself for still feeling just as sensitive at the mention of dating somebody as I did six months ago. I told Tasha I was better, and that I'd healed - but I missed him; I missed him a lot. I thought about him constantly, as much as I tried not to - it was inevitable. He was beyond the point of 'crossing' my mind; he was on my mind, always, without fail, and I'd grown to accept that.

Harry was the first person I'd ever loved - in a matter of four months I'd fallen completely and utterly in love with him, I knew that for sure. And I knew that wouldn't fade; not for a while, and I didn't see myself with anybody else.

I hadn't heard from him in six months. He could've texted me, called me - whatever - I would've answered. But he didn't. He made it clear he didn't want this to continue, and he wanted me to move on after he left. I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I often wondered if he'd moved on; if he'd rediscovered a childhood sweetheart back in Manchester, and fallen in love with her. I wondered if he lay curled up on his mattress with her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, before dragging her out into the pouring rain just to watch her squeal as he kissed the raindrops from her lips. Harry loved doing stuff like that.

I wondered if he was happy; if he was really, truly happy. If Celia was doing well, if Liam was doing good - if all was well. I wondered if Harry's real dad had bombarded him somewhere, and I desperately hoped he hadn't. Harry didn't deserve that.

I shoved some of my books into my locker, leaving the ones I needed for the morning in my bag. I slammed it shut, pulling my bag back onto my shoulder as I turned around, drawing my lip into my mouth. He was everywhere - I saw him pushing me against the locker down the hall and kissing me, his hands slipping under my shirt to rub circles on my bare skin; I saw him grabbing my wrist and forcing me to run towards the cafeteria so they wouldn't run out of pizza, and I saw him swinging me over his shoulder and running through the doors with me in his arms, roaring with laughter as I yelled in protest. Six months later, I saw him, I felt him, and I missed him - everywhere.

I didn't know what it was about him, but Harry had been so much more than anybody else could've been. I dated him for a month, and I knew him for just over four - but he was everything. I'd loved him so, so much that it was almost dangerous - it was dangerous, and slowly but surely - it had torn me apart. I was entirely broken for months on end - the ability to hear his name only becoming known in the fourth or fifth month. I often found myself looking through old pictures; candids of him I'd snapped to his obliviousness - photos of his lips on my jaw, or the one I always found myself travelling back to; the one I could recall from memory with ease - a photo Tasha had taken of the two of us on Christmas Eve; Harry with a drink in his hand and his arm around my waist, my hand on his jaw as he was leant in to kiss me, a wide grin on my face and my eyes squeezed shut, a playful smirk on Harry's features. It was enough to make my heart flutter at the memory of how extremely happy I was, how happy we both were - which only led to the reminder, the tight feeling in my chest at how alone I was now, and how much I missed that boy.

Get over it, Ana. You should be over him by now.

"Ana!" a squeal sounded from in front of me, snapping me from my thoughts in an instant as I looked up to meet eyes with Tiff - for once, without Louis.

"Hey, Tiff," I smiled politely, rubbing my arm awkwardly as she continued.

"Hey! So, we're having a party tomorrow, and you should totally come!" she exclaimed, and I frowned.

"We? As in..?"

"Louis and I - duh! It's at his place tomorrow, nine o' clock. You'll be there?" she asked brightly, and I hesitated, exhaling deeply.

I didn't want to go. I really, really didn't. I hadn't been to a party in a solid few months, and I wasn't sure Louis was the best place to start, "I don't know.."

"Aw, come on, girl! We need to get you back out there - out of this slump you've been in since Ha-"

"I'll be there," I cut her off a little too firmly, causing her to jump back. In all honesty, I was just desperate for her to shut up.

"Um.. okay! Be there at nine, then," she smiled brightly, strutting off down the hall, as I groaned internally, running a hand through my hair.

I would go to Louis' tomorrow night. Deep down, I knew it wasn't a good idea - but I needed some fun; I owed it to myself. And as annoying as Tiff was, she wasn't entirely wrong - I needed up and out of the slump I'd fallen into, and I needed to get my shit together.

And the party tomorrow night would be the perfect place to start.