I woke up the next morning feeling extremely unrested. I could feel the make up smeared on my face from all the tears that fell from my eyes last night. Everything that happened came flooding back to me, and I felt so humiliated. By Josh, by Clarissa, and by myself. How could I have done that to Harry? I was so stupid. I turned onto my back, seeing Brooke and Eleanor still sleeping on either side of me.

What do I do now? I get up carefully and find my bag, taking out my phone. I unlock it. No new messages, no missed calls. Nothing from Harry. I felt disappointed, but I couldn't really be surprised, could I? I had clearly hurt him last night. He looked so angry when he left. I went to the window and sat on my bench, looking at his house and hugging my knees to my chest. Should I go talk to him? I remembered all the things he said to me. Why didn't I deny using him? I should have tried to convince him that I was just upset, I wasn't thinking clearly. But I kept my mouth shut and he left. I was so stupid.

Harry's POV

I tossed and turned, exhausted. I never fell asleep last night, despite my best efforts. I'm so pissed! How could Lana do that to me? I thought she was different. I thought she actually liked me. Apparently I was wrong. This is why I don't get involved with girls. It's not worth the drama, and it's not worth the pain I'm feeling right now.

Normally I didn't care if girls used me for sex. I did the same thing to them. It never meant anything to me either. I should have just shut my mouth and done the same thing with Lana. But, no, I couldn't. I knew it meant more than just sex with us. Or at least I thought I did. Was she playing me this whole time? Why would she like me anyway.

I fling the duvet back, and get off my bed, pacing around the room. What do I do? Do I talk to her? No, she probably already thinks I'm the most dramatic guy around. Don't want to seem more pathetic. Besides, she was the one who fucked up last night, not me. I'm not going to be the one to apologize. Maybe I shouldn't have been so hard on her. Josh obviously did a number on her.

But that shouldn't effect our relationship. Wait, no. We don't have one. I don't do relationships. And this is exactly why. I don't even know who I am right now. I was tough. I didn't do all this feelings shit. What's wrong with me? What's so great about this one girl anyway? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Except everything. She's amazing.

I lay back, letting out a frustrated sigh. I sit up when I hear a knock on my door.

"Yea?" My mum opens the door slowly and walks into my room. I sigh silently, not really wanting to talk.

"Sounds like you're having quite the argument with yourself in here, Harold," she says, nudging me softly.

I don't say anything. I just lean forward and put my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands. My mom could tell from the second she saw Lana that I would like her. And I'm sure she knew that Lana was the reason I was so upset right now. I feel her put her hand on my back, moving it up and down to comfort me. My mum knows me too well. I mean, sometimes I think she knows me better than I know myself. She always knows what to say. Or what not to say.

"Sweetheart, what's the matter?"

I sit up and run my hands through my hair, trying to stay calm. I'm not sure how to talk to my mum about this without saying too much. Not because I care, but because Lana might.

Wait, why do I care how she feels?

"I'm not sure Lana is the person I thought. I don't think she likes me," I say, my voice cracking at the end. I hear her sigh as she thinks about this. She takes a minute before answering.

"Darling, I know that isn't true. Lana is a wonderful girl. People make mistakes. Whatever she did last night, I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt you."

"That's the thing, though, mum. I don't think she thought about my feelings at all when she-" I stop short, not wanting to say too much. "It didn't seem like she cared at all about how I would feel. Like it wasn't even a consideration."

"Are you sure? She doesn't seem like that kind of-"

"I accused her of it!" I yell, getting up and pacing around. "I accused her of using me and she didn't deny it! I'm not making this up in my head, mum."

"Okay, Okay," she said, getting up and putting her hands on my shoulders, making me look at her. I was a few inches taller than her, but she still looked at me as if I was a baby. "Harry, I know that you like her." I shake my head, but she just laughs lightly. "Deny it all you want, darling, but you do. Just talk to her. Figure out what you want, and have a calm, civilized conversation. Don't accuse her of anything, just tell her how you feel. She can't get mad at you for feeling something."

I nod, knowing she was right. As usual. She kisses me on the cheek and walks out, closing my door behind her. I turn and go into my bathroom, hoping a shower will calm me down and clear my head.

Lana's POV

I'm not sure how long I sat there, just staring out the window. I hear El and Brooke start to stir behind me, but I don't turn around. One of them walks over to me sits down. From the dark hair, I know its Eleanor. I still don't look at her.

"Lana," she says, waiting for me to respond. When I don't she touches my arm, making me acknowledge her. I close my eyes, and a tear falls down my cheek. I hear her sigh. "Langley, look at me." I turn and slowly open my eyes, looking at her. "You need to talk to him, sweetie. Apologize. I know you really like him. Don't let last night ruin things with you guys." I nod, looking back out the window.

"Lan," Brooke says, coming over and pulling softly on my arm. "Stop torturing yourself. Staring at his house is not going to help you." They both watch me, and I slowly turn away and get up, going to the bathroom to wash my face. I throw my hair up in a bun, knowing its saturday. I don't plan on leaving the house. I walk back out and go into my closet, putting on my favourite old sweats and a baggy T-shirt. I walk out and sit on the bed.

"Why am I so stupid." I say, not really asking them. I feel them both slide up on either side of me. They wrap their arms around me. We sit like that for a while. "Okay," I say, standing up. "You guys, should probably go. I'm going to be annoying and mopey today. I know how much you hate that," I say, looking at Brooke, "and I know that you'll just give me sympathy," this time directing my words at El. They look at each other, hesitant to leave. "I'm serious, guys. I'll be fine. And you can give the clothes back to me later." I say, going out of the room, knowing they'll follow. When we get to the front door they both hug me, and I open it to let them out. I gasp, surprised to see someone standing on my front porch.

Harry. He spins around, surprised that I opened the door. He looks about as exhausted as I feel. We both just stand there, staring at each other, neither of us sure what to do. El and Brooke look past me, and I can hear them both gasp as well. Brooke touches my arm and gives me a questioning look, pulling me out of my stare with Harry. I give her a nod and a small smile, the best I can manage. They both walk out, not saying anything to Harry. He doesn't say anything either, just stares at me.

"You look like hell," he says, eyebrows pulling together.

"I feel worse than I look," I whisper, not moving.

He looks at the ground and puts his hand on the back of his neck, obviously unsure of himself. He lets it hang by his side again, turning slightly away from me. When I think he's about to leave, he suddenly takes a step towards me. "Can we talk?"

I nod slowly and move to the side, letting him in. I check in the driveway for my parents cars, both of which seem to be gone. I close the door and slowly turn around to see Harry just standing in the middle of the entrance, not sure what to do. I slowly walk into the living room and he follows me. I sit down on the couch and he sits beside me, closer than I expected. I feel so ashamed and embarrassed. Harry now knew secrets about my relationship with Josh, how much he'd hurt me. I'd also hurt Harry and acted like a complete idiot. I didn't even understand why he was here. If I was him I would be done and moved on by now. I couldn't be worth all of this.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. I just stare at Harry, waiting for him to speak. He didn't look at me, but fidgeted with his hands, obviously uncomfortable. I fought the urge to take his hands in mine, to try and comfort him in some way. I had hurt him, though. The ball is in his court. He sat back, leaning into the couch. He stared as his hands a little longer before slowly meeting my eyes.

"Harry," I begin, trying not to cry.

"No, please," he says, sitting forward again. "Let me talk. I'm sorry I was so hard on you last night. You were obviously hurting, and I should have been a little more understanding. I'm sorry."

I stare at him blankly. He was sorry? He didn't do anything! I couldn't speak, so he continued.

"I made the mistake of assuming we had something, that you.." he trailed, obviously embarrassed by this conversation. "That you liked me. I guess I read into things too much."

I shake my head vigorously, causing him to stop. "No, Harry, please don't apologize. You have every right to be mad at me. I don't know what got into me. I was being dramatic and ridiculous. I shouldn't have...done what I tried to do. It was so stupid and I'm so embarrassed. I'm so sorry." I say, tears spilling despite my efforts to keep them in. "I do have feelings for you. You didn't misjudge anything. And last night I was an idiot and I took advantage of whatever you felt for me, and I went too far. I'm sorry" I say again, unable to look at him.

"Shh," he whispers, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against him. We stay like this for a few minutes and I can feel that I've soaked the front of this shirt from crying. "Lana, you had every right to be upset about what happened with Josh."

"But I had no right to to try and use you to make Josh jealous. I wasn't thinking straight. I would never use you like that," I say, pulling back and looking him in the eye. I wasn't this person, the one who saw other people as her toys, as casualties of her own problems. I cared about people, especially the boy sitting in front of me. I could never use him like that.

"That's what I don't understand," he says, getting up and pacing. "Josh was already fuming about whatever this is," he says, pointing between the two of us. "Why did you feel the need to try and make it worse? Why sink to his level? And then I do what I think is the honourable thing to do and you get pissed at me! What was that?"

"I was embarrassed, Harry! I felt rejected and vulnerable. I know you did the right thing and I'm happy you did. I guess my feelings of being unwanted by Josh during our relationship were projected onto you when I found out about everything and you said no. I felt like you just didn't want me at all. I know it was dramatic."

"How could you think that?" He whispers, sitting back down next to me. I can't meet his eyes.

"Think what?"

He cups my face in his hands. "That I don't want you. It was the exact opposite. It killed me to say no, but I didn't want our first time together to be about someone else. I know that sounds so corny. I hated that Josh was the reason you wanted to. I don't want him to be on your mind when you're with me."

I nod my head. Everything he says makes sense. I don't know what to say anymore. He releases my hands from his face and sighs. "Maybe this all happened too fast."

I hold my breath, not moving. Stop Harry, please, I think, begging him in my mind.

"I think maybe you need to sort out all of this stuff with Josh and work through whatever happened between you guys. As much as I want to believe it, I don't think you're over him," he explains, standing up. I stand up as well, taking a step towards him

"Harry, don't say it. Please," I whisper, closing my eyes.

"I think we should just be friends right now," he says, his voice betraying him by cracking at the end. I feel my heart break a little at those words. I didn't want to be friends with him, I didn't know how.

I open my eyes and another tear rolls down my cheek. He wipes it away with his thumb, letting his hand linger. He leans in and kisses my cheek, then presses his forehead against mine for a minute. He starts backing away then and quickly walks out the door. I stand there, frozen. I try to convince myself it's just a bad dream, that he'll come back and say he doesn't want to just be my friend. But I know he won't; I watch him walk back across the street and go into his house. I run upstairs and jump on my bed, curling up into a ball. The tears start to fall and I don't try and stop them. There's no point.

Notes

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