To be given a chance - (BxB)

Chapter thirteen - Found

A/N: Hello, I didn't realise how long this chapter was... but I hope you guys like long chapters?? If not, I'm just gonna go hide... *Walks away slowly* 

Does he really need me, or do I need him? I've been asking myself that question for the past two and a half hours since I'd left the car. I can't seem to get the thought of him out of my head. Harry. Sweet, innocent, and probably scared witless, Harry. It's all my fault he's gone. If I hadn't went on that date, with Eric and just stayed with him, none of this would have happened. He wouldn't have gotten scared. Marie wouldn't have hit him. He wouldn't have run away! And I wouldn't be feeling so bloody awful right now.

"Try this on for size," Jackie hands me a shirt made from denim material, it's quite nice considering it's something that I wouldn't usually wear. It's at least the hundredth item of clothing she has made me try on since we've been here though, which has been a bit of a tedious drag. She takes the shopping bags from my hands before nudging me toward the changing rooms.

We have been in about twenty different shops already, resulting in a lot of money spent on clothes, shoes, and a ten ton of DVD's for a movie marathon as Jackie put it. Half of the things she has bought me I'll probably not wear, but she won't listen. She's stubborn like that. We'd stopped by a small ice cream parlour, which I wasn't fussy on, and Jackie practically forced me into eating an ice cream cone, which is why I have a big chocolate stain on my trousers and why I feel a little fat today.

"Come out and show me what it looks like on, okay?" I roll my eyes but nod my head yes. I gingerly make my way through the changing rooms for the billionth, then hide inside one of the stalls behind the curtain.

I hang the shirt on the coat hanger, while I take off the one I am wearing, trying desperately hard not to look at myself in the mirror at the side of the cubicle. I hate trying clothes on, especially in shops where there is a possible chance of someone walking in on you by opening the curtain. Or the feeling of shame and embarrassment when you give the clothes back to the person at the front because they didn't fit.

Sighing, I try to think about anything but what I'm doing, anything but my body, anything that has nothing to do with anything.

Harry.

Why can't I find him? Every time I try it's as if the world is pulling me in the complete opposite direction of where he is. Like he doesn't want to be found, or something doesn't want me to find him. After all, I hardly know him. What would I do when I find him? I expect he wouldn't want to go back to the shelter... and it's not exactly advised to bring the homeless to your own home. Anything could happen. But I'm talking about Harry. Harmless, frightened and caring Harry. He wouldn't hurt anyone if he tried. Would he?

Maybe I'm just not looking hard enough. Maybe if I tried harder I could -

"Excuse me, Sir?" A male, high pitched, voice calls, jolting me out of my thoughts. I wait a beat and notice that his shoes are peeking from under the deep purple curtain. "Is your name Sam?" He adds, his shoes rock a little almost as if he is swaying back and forth; perhaps a nervous habit.

I fumble with the rest of the buttons on the denim shirt and slowly open the curtain. A man, smaller than me, is waiting patiently for an answer. "Uh, yes... may I ask why?" I pull at the shirt and the guy smiles, looking me up and down, blushing a little.

"There is a woman out there asking for you. She said, and I quote her words; 'Hurry your hot ass up.'" On the last sentence, he uses his fingers to emphasize the quotation.

"My hot..." I clear my throat. Trust Jackie to get an absolute stranger to say such a thing. Shaking my head to try and to throw the blush from my cheeks. Awkwardly brushing past the man, feeling his eyes on my back as I exit the changing rooms to find Jackie but not before hearing the guy behind me let out a low whistle and whisper "She's not wrong," as I leave.