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Chapter 14

   Harry's frustration spilled into the following day when he threw a party without bothering to inform me.

So, I put on a coat and walked to the front door. Two can play at that game. If he didn't want me there, it's for a reason. I wanted to find out why.

"Where are you going?" Dad, engrossed in a Cold War documentary, called from the couch.

"To Holly Dae's. Be back soon," I said, shutting the door before he could respond. I tightened my woollen scarf, walking briskly. There was no moon in the black sky, but there were plenty of stars.

I got to his house quicker than usual. I heard the music from the other end of the street. I walked up the front yard, passed two girls who were rolling around in the grass, another guy taking inappropriate pictures with a hanging statue, and stepped into the house. The smell of beer and sweat hit me right away. I pushed my way through the mob to the kitchen, hoping to find Harry. Instead, I stumbled upon Bones and Garrett engrossed in a poker game at the dining table.

"Bones."

Bones didn't bother looking up at me. "Blondie," he mumbled through the cigar in his mouth.

"Seen Harry?" I asked bluntly, wanting to avoid unnecessary conversation. Every moment with Bones reminded me of his lips on mine.

Bones glanced toward me, a flicker of emotion passing through his face. He exchanged a glance with Garret, who shifted his gaze away. "Harry, huh?"

"If you're not going to tell me, I'll find him myself."

Bones snickered. "Good luck with that."

I shook my head, making my way out of the kitchen and into the chaotic living room. Amidst the pulsating music, my attempts to get people to make way went unheard. I bumped into one of Miles' friends, Finn, and knocked the drink in his hands. The drink spilled all over my top.

"Sorry," Finn slurred.

The pungent scent of beer lingered on my top. I needed to wash up, but the upstairs bathroom was locked. Harry always closed off the entire upper floor of his house whenever he threw parties so people wouldn't steal anything.

Upstairs was quieter, and I walked to the end of the hallway, stopping in front of the bathroom. I heard some kind of wailing sound from the other end of the door. And then the sound of a familiar voice. I remember a sense of sickness creeping up on me.

I twisted the door handle open. Why it was unlocked, I didn't know why. I took a look at the sight before me. The sight of Genevieve perched on Harry's sink, legs wrapped around him, hit me like a punch to the gut. The music thumped loud, but it couldn't drown out the shock hitting me like a brick. They were both going at it like no tomorrow.

Shock paralyzed me, and my blood turned to ice. Every ounce of trust I'd invested in Harry evaporated, replaced by a searing betrayal that tore through my chest.

I didn't even realize that I had made a sort of horrified, choking sound until Harry's eyes met mine. "Fuck," he kept muttering. Genevieve had no right to look so smug. Harry hurriedly zipped up his jeans and awkwardly approached me. "Max, let's talk about this in the morning, okay?"

Without a word, I turned away, unable to bear the sight of him, and stormed out of the house, tears streaming down my face.


The night unfolded into a blur of raw emotions, and as the first light of dawn crept through my window, I awoke to an unfamiliar queasiness in my stomach. Last night, I wept until I couldn't anymore. Harry didn't bother to call or text me.

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