They Don't Know About Us

*Justice's P.O.V*
“And I swear he was going to say 'I love you'.” I ranted to Katie who sat patiently on our couch while I paced back and forth like a mad woman.
“But he didn't.” Katie stated knowingly. As she spoke she extended her hand out at each one of her fingernails individually.
I nodded, “No, he just stopped talking like before and acted like nothing happened.”
“Why didn't you just say it?” She asked as if it was the most obvious solution.
A snort sounded from me. “I can't just declare my love for my boyfriend for the first time over the phone. What if he doesn't feel that way?”
Katie rolled her grayish blue eyes. “He clearly does.”
“You don't know that!” I countered. My feet stopped moving and my head snapped in her direction. “Do you? Did Harry say that he loves me?” I asked hopefully.
She groaned standing up. “Even if I knew the answer to that, and I don't, I wouldn't tell you. Justice you need to tell him that you love him already. Jonah and I said it in no time.” Her shoulders shrugged.
“You knew Jonah for two years before you two became a couple.” I reminded her.
She shrugged her shoulders. “That's not the point.” She held up her pointer finger. “The point is that you love him and you have to tell him.”
“You love him and you have to tell him.” I mocked in a whiny nagging voice that sounded nothing like my best friend. “Yeah well you love Ed Sheeran and he doesn't know.” I muttered hoping she didn't hear me as she walked out of the living room.
Her sudden stop and tensing stance let me know that she had. “Oh no bitch!” With a quickness Katie turned around. “You know fucking well that I HAVEN'T MET ED YET!”
My eyes widened in shock. “Whoa calm down.” I held up my hands in surrender and gave her a cautious look.
“Don't tell me to calm down!” She spat turning to walk back towards her bedroom. “Disrespectful little shit. How dare you?” She muttered as I sat on the couch wondering what the hell had just happened.
~~*~~
Deciding against Katie's whole confession thing, I eagerly accepted when my friend Monica invited me to join her to a party at a local club that night. We decided to meet up at ten and ride together. I started getting ready at eight after the Vampire Diaries had gone off. It was easier than usual to decide on an outfit. The white jersey with Styles 94 in black print that I had ordered off the internet had recently arrived. I paired it with a pair of black leather pants, a leather jacket, and black booties. It made a kick ass outfit. My hair, now extended to mid-back and blonde, was in an abundance of curls, but I brushed one side back and fluffed my bang. Smiling at my reflection I walked out of my bedroom as there was a knock on my door. Katie was probably asleep or face-timing her boyfriend.
I opened the door to reveal my petite Mexican friend dressed in brown leggings and a long blue flannel button down with brown leather combat boots. Her usually messy hair was straightened and hanging on her shoulders. Her black framed glasses had been replaced with contacts that showcased her gray eyes.
She smiled and gave me a once over. “Dude you look hot. Who are you trying to impress?” Monica asked as she stepped into the apartment. I gave a light laugh turning my back to her to grab my jacket and cell phone. “Oh dude,” she droned like only she could. “You're so dick whipped. Are you seriously wearing that?” She asked referring to the jersey that Gemma begged me not to order when I mentioned it to her.
“What? I like it.” I defended my style choice. Okay maybe sometimes I went over the top with the One Direction/Harry Styles paraphernalia, but I didn't just want people to know that I was taken. I wanted them to know that I was in a relationship with the nicest, kindest, dumbest guy ever and that they had zero point zero percent of a chance to mess up what we had. Basically I wanted to send a big message. Monica shook her head not saying anything else. “Are you ready?” I asked glancing at her.
“Katie isn't coming?” She asked looking past me to the hallway.
My head shook. “She's locked up in her room doing God knows what.” I answered carelessly. “Let's go before the line gets too long. It's college night.” I urged. She agreed as we walked out of the apartment to the parking lot. I chose to drive since her own relationship problems called for a round a tequila and maybe some Mary Jane in an alley (they had more issues than Vogue).
“Dude I just want to twerk something.” Monica claimed when we entered the club and scanned the scene.
I laughed, “Go for it.” I baited her while spotting a seat near the bar. “Do you want to sit?” I asked.
Monica nodded, “Yeah, but let's get someone to take our picture first. We look hot!” She stopped a girl passing by and extended her phone towards her. “Can you take our picture?” She asked. The girl nodded and stopped while Monica and I moved closed together. I placed a hand on my hip and wrapped the other one around her waist. We smiled at the camera phone and waited for the audible click. “Thanks dude.” Monica reached for her phone and we moved towards the high table. “Take off your jacket and let me get a picture of your shirt.” Monica urged.
I laughed. “You are never going to let this go.” I stated as I shrugged out of my jacket . I turned my back to her and pointing with my thumbs at the top of my back. I looked back over my shoulder smiling at the camera. Monica laughed her head off while snapping the picture.
“That's going on Twitter.” She decided surely. “Do you think if I tag your boo thang he'll reply?”
My shoulders shrugged as I looked for someone to potentially buy me a drink (being under twenty-one in America was hard). “Probably not. I have no idea what time it is in Australia and rather or not he's sleep.” I admitted.
Monica eyed me curiously. “Haven't you talked to him today?” She asked in her raspy voice. I shook my head with a sad pout as I thought about how Harry and I hadn't had an actual conversation in three days, when he asked if it would be okay for him to come visit after tour. Of course I agreed and marked the day on my calendar, but that was still two weeks away. “Why not?” Monica asked pulling me out of my thoughts. “He doesn't go for days ignoring you like the last guy, does he?”
“Calm down crouching tigress.” I soothed her racing heart quickly. “Haz is busy a lot so we don't get to talk as much.” She gave me a disbelieving look. “Seriously, it's not an excuse. He's coming to visit again soon though.” Monica rolled her light brown eyes dropping the subject just like that.
“Dude, I think Cory is cheating on me.” Monica blurted out dampening the mood. I was thinking of the nicest way to tell her that her boyfriend was a class A jackass who once made a pass at me when I heard the infamous opening line of 'Ayy Ladies' by Tyga featuring Travis Porter.
Okay now ladies.
“Yeah!” I involuntarily called out while my bottom half began to subtly bounce. I grabbed Monica's hand excitedly. “It's time to throw it back.” I announced while pulling her onto the dance floor. I lead us near a wall making it that much harder for guys to get to us. I turned nearly pressing my back against the wall while I gyrated to the music like I had done since I started going to parties and like pretty much everyone present was doing. Monica watched me for a brief moment before joining in on the fun. We continued all night keeping our movements to make the music and having a good time.
A guy dressed in a black Polo shirt with khaki pants and a red snap back on his head was passing by when he stopped and looked back. “Excuse me miss, are you dancing by yourself?” He asked directing the question to me.
I smiled and nodded my head. “Yeah, but it's fine.” I assured him.
He clasped his brown hands together revealing a large tattoo on the back of his right hand. “Now, I can't just let a pretty lady dance alone.” He shook his head taking a step forward.
I gave a light laugh. “I have a boyfriend.” I informed him. He looked around the club expectantly. “He isn't here.”
The guy shrugged his shoulders. “Then what he doesn't know won't hurt him.”
I leaned forward placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Oh trust me. He'll find out.” I disagreed and looked around paranoid. As sad as it was I lived in constant worry that someone would capture some moment of me, spin it into something it's not, and paste it in tabloids worldwide for Harry to see.
The dude nodded his head understandingly. “Where is he?” He questioned. “If you don't mind me asking.” He quickly added not wanting to come off as nosy or rude.
“He's...” Now I was facing a dilemma. Did I tell him where Harry was and why he was there OR do I just keep it vague? “He's out of town for work.” I went with option B.
“Ya'll live together or something?”
“No, we're in a long distance relationship.” A seriously long distance relationship. Maybe the longest distance humanly possible. “But we visit each other as often as possible.”
“So you think he's out of town, but he could be at his crib chilling with his other lady.” This guy...
“I'm one hundred percent sure he's out of town.” I responded looking around. Monica had disappeared to answer a rare call from Cory and still hadn't come back. “I need to go find my friend. It was nice to meet you...” I let the sentence hang hoping he would fill in the blank.
“Q,” he responded. “And you are?”
“Jay,” I answered easily.
Q nodded. “Alright Jay it's nice to meet you. Now how about I help you find this friend so we can keep up our conversation.” He asked although it sounded more like a statement.
“Only if you promise to behave.” I warned. He held up his hands in surrender and agreed. We moved away from my spot on the wall in search of my short Mexican friend. Our conversation continued and eventually drifted from my relationship, which Q did not approve of, to his life. I learned that he was twenty-four, getting his Masters in psychology while working as a probation officer, an only child, and he liked to draw as a stress relief. By the time we found Monica, we had exchanged a lot of information including phone numbers (which I hesitantly gave up). He promised to be just a friend and keep his opinions to himself.

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