Ria’s P.O.V

I walk down Dufferin Street entering the first Tim Horton’s I see. As I order a large double double I try to push any thoughts of Harry out of my mind.

I pay for my coffee and sit down at one of the vacant tables near the windows. As I blow on my coffee to cool it down, I whip out my phone to see I have a new follower on twitter. (Ria’s Twitter) (Harry’s Twitter)

I roll my eyes and continue to blow on my coffee, taking little sips when I hear a loud voice enter the coffee shop. The voice is so familiar and yet I cant place a name to it. I decide to ignore it and finish my coffee.

I’m three quarters of the way done my coffee, scrolling down my twitter timeline when someone comes up to my table.

“Ria fucking Hamilton.” The loud familiar voice says. I look up to see none other than my old best friend Jessica Macintyre.

“Jess?” I question. “Is that actually you?”

“In the flesh my dear.” She says smiling and sitting down in the chair across from mine.

I stare at Jess in shock for a moment; I haven’t seen her in a year and a half since she moved in with her Father in Australia to attend an arts school. Her once short black hair is now longer than mine, bleached blonde with a pink ombre.

“What are you doing back here?! I thought you moved in with your Dad?” I ask.

“He kicked me out, so now I’m right back to where I started in this shit hole.” She says gesturing to the city street outside the window.

Memories of our friendship crash through my mind and I reach across the table to envelope her in a hug. We used to be inseparable; she was like my sister, I’ve missed her so much.

“It’s so good to have you back, Jess.” I say smiling.

“I’d say it’s good to be back, but it isn’t.” She says laughing. “Although, I did miss you like fucking crazy.”

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” I say sighing.

“So, uh, how’s Mitch?” Jessica says trying to sound nonchalant, she looks down and begins to pick at the purple nail polish on her index finger. Jess had always had a thing for Mitch. I’m almost positive at one point Mitch had feelings for her as well, but when she moved out to Australia whatever could have happened between them fell apart.

“Uh he’s good.” I mumble out. “He’s uh…” I say trailing off and looking out the window.

“Well?” Jess prompts. “Spit it out already!”

“He’s dating Hannah Scott.”

“That skank who likes to show off her butt tattoo?” Jess snorts.

“The one and only.” I say rolling my eyes and we both laugh.

“So are you coming back to Ridgeview?” I ask hopefully.

“No, Mom says the only way I can stay is if I enroll in that all girls school, what’s it called again? Loretto Abbey I think.”

I let out a groan.

“Yeah, I know but hey at least I’m back, right?” She says.

“Yeah.” I say smiling.

“Listen, I gotta run. Mom says we have to go buy my uniform today since school’s tomorrow and I am not allowed to miss it.” Jess says, imitating her mom’s voice.

“But you just got here!” I whine, looking at her sadly.

“Yeah, give me your phone.” She says, I pull out my IPhone and hand it to her.

“There.” She says handing the phone back to me. “Now you have my new number.”

We hug and say our goodbyes, I promise to text her as soon as I get home and she leaves.

I sit back down at the table for a few moments before chucking my now cold coffee and exiting the Tim Horton’s.

I walk home slowly, not excited for whatever scenario I’ll find when I get home. Aside from being an alcoholic, my mother was also diagnosed with Schizophrenia a few years back. I never told anyone, not even Jessica.

I smoke a cigarette as I walk; the nicotine calms my brain down and makes it easier for me to think. I maneuver my way through the hectic streets of Toronto until I reach my tiny two-story house.

When I pull open the front door my mother lunges at me with a baseball bat, swinging and thankfully missing.

“Mom! What are you doing?” I scream at her, slamming the door shut behind me. Her eyes focus on me and she drops the bat to the floor and begins to sob. I can smell the alcohol on her breath meaning she’s dunk and having another attack.

“I’m sorry honey, the voices are back.” She sobs, wrapping me into a tight hug. I sigh, looks like we’re going to need to switch her medication again. She really shouldn’t be drinking; it only makes her condition worse. But my mom is a strong-minded, stubborn lady and you cannot convince her to stop anything. No matter how badly it’s hurting her body.

“How was school?” She asks me, playing with a chunk of my hair.

“It’s Sunday, Mom. School doesn’t start for like, another 24 hours.”

“Right, right.” She says smiling wildly at me. “Are you hungry? Should I make you something to eat?”

“Uh, no I think it's best if we just bring you to bed, alright?” I ask slowly, not wanting to upset her.

“Alright darling.” She says, letting me lead her up the stairs and into her bedroom.

I tuck her into bed, stroking her hair before I flip on the TV and put on a happy movie she can fall asleep to. I’m just about to leave her room when I hear her call my name.

“He’s gone, Ri.”

“Who’s gone Mom?” You can never be too sure what my mother’s talking about so it’s always good to clarify things.

“Your father, he left this morning.” She says sadly, attempting to find another alcoholic beverage on her nightstand.

I spot the almost empty bottle of vodka before she does, picking it up and dumping the rest of its contents down the drain in the bathroom. I toss the empty bottle into the trash and come to sit on the edge of her bed.

“Mom, it’s okay. Dad leaves all the time, he works you know.”
She sighs, almost unconscious from the alcohol.

“No Kitten, he’s gone. Bags were packed and everything.” I try to ask her another question but she’s already asleep. I draw the blinds in her room closed and quietly leave her room.

My Dad is gone. He left us, and even worse he left me to take care of my Mom. Not that I mind really, I’d been doing it for a while now. My parents first started fighting when my Mother was diagnosed and after that I started seeing less of him and more of my drunken belligerent mother.

Sighing, I pull out my phone to text Jessica and tell her I made it home all right. I smile when I see my lock screen; it’s a picture of Jessica and I from when we were little, hand in hand playing in the sandbox.

We were all so happy back then, my family that is. Back before Mom got sick and Dad stopped coming home for dinner. A tear trickles down my face and I wipe it away quickly before anymore can spill. My sadness turns to anger, hatred towards my Father. How dare he leave us like this, I’m only 18 for Christ’s sake. How the fuck am I supposed to take care of my mother? I can barley manage to take care of myself.

The tears begin to trickle down my cheek again as I walk slowly to my bedroom. I throw my jacket on the floor and reach down under my bed to find a tiny wooden box. I smile as I run my fingers over the lid of the box before pulling it open.

Inside the box, there are 6 tiny razors, a pack of tissues and rubbing alcohol. I pull one of the razors out, examining it before I place it on my forearm. The cool metal bites into my skin and I slide it across, red beads of blood form where the razor has just made its mark. I smile, instantly feeling better.

I run the razor across my arm a few more times before dropping it back in the box. I admire my work; dark crimson blood drips down my arms and onto my pants; whatever I’ll wash those later. I press a tissue against the tiny cuts, blotting the blood away.

When the bleeding comes to a stop, I push the box back under my bed and head to the bathroom to shower. The warm water cascades over my body, stinging when it gets into the freshly made cuts.

I finish my shower quickly, wrapping a big white towel around my body. As I walk into my room, I notice my windows cracked open a bit. There’s music playing from outside, Going to California by Led Zeppelin. I recognize the song immediately seeing as it’s one of my favorites.

I tie my wet hair into a messy bun, pull on a sweater, some leggings and my fuzzy cheetah slippers and make my way outside.

I spot Harry sitting on his front porch, guitar in hand.

“That sounds beautiful, you know?” I call from my porch gesturing at the guitar in his hand.

“Any requests from the lovely lady?” He asks smiling over at me.

“Hotel California!” I say smiling widely. I had always been a huge fan of classic rock, and the fact that Harry enjoyed it as well made me happy.

“Well come on then!” Harry says gesturing towards the empty spot beside him.

I hold up my finger to symbolize I’ll be back in a second and then I quickly dart inside, grab my almost empty pack of cigarettes and my lighter.

When I get back outside Harry’s playing the chorus to Hotel California by The Eagles. As I walk towards him, I can hear him softly singing the words.

“Such a lovely place, such a lovely face.” Harry sings, looking me in the eye.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“Thanks.” Harry says looking down at his guitar and blushing.

I sit down beside him and light a cigarette, inhaling deeply as the smoke hits the back of my lungs.

“You know, they say that every cigarette you smoke, you lose a day of your life.” Harry says matter of factly.

Well in that case…

I pull out the last 4 cigarettes in my pack and shove them in my mouth. Harry scowls at me and plucks each of them out one by one leaving me with one cigarette in my mouth. I roll my eyes and take a drag.

“Ria, you’re too pretty to die of lung cancer, cut it out.” He scolds; I give him a dirty look and exhale smoke in his face. When the smoke clears, mine and Harry’s eyes lock. He tilts his head and leans in, our lips almost touching.

“Harry! Is that Ria I hear out here?” Louis says, bursting through the front door and onto the front porch.

My head snaps away from Harry’s and he runs his fingers through his hair. I look up and regard a smiling Louis.

“Scootch over doll.” Louis says, dropping down beside me so that I’m in the middle of the two brothers.

“Are you starting at Ridgeview tomorrow too?” I ask Louis.

“Nah sweets, I graduated last year.” He says smugly.

“What? How old are you?”

“19 love, Harry’s 18.”

“When’s your birthday?” I ask Harry turning to face him.

“February 1st, why?”

“Fuck! You’re older than me.” I sigh.

“When’s yours?” Harry inquires.

“It was on Friday actually.”

Louis and Harry gasp and look at eachother.

“Well Harry boy-o, you know what needs to be done.” Louis says laughing.

Harry begins to play Happy Birthday on the guitar and Louis and him sing a long loudly and off key.

“Stop! Stop!” I say laughing as Louis leans down to tickle my sides.

When they finally stop singing, I pull out my phone to check the time. It’s nearly a quarter to 11. Fuck, how had it gotten so late so quickly?

“Shit guys, I have to go. It’s getting late and there’s school tomorrow so.” I say trailing off.

Harry and Louis blow me kisses from their porch as I make my way back into my house and into my room. I shut the door and lie on my bed thinking of Harry.

After about 20 minutes of tossing and turning, I finally fall into a deep happy sleep.

Notes

YEEEHHHHAAAAAWWWW 1000 READS

WEEEEEEE A NEW CHAAAPPPPPYYYYYY YAY!!!

follow ria and harry on twitter @TheRiaHamilton @HeyHarry_wb

ANYWAYS LOVELIES I HAVE QUESTIONS FOR YOOOOUUU
1) who do you ship?
2) what do you think of Jessica?
3) what would you like to see happen next?

- Shelby