Story Of My Life - One Direction 

"And I'll be gone, gone tonight. The ground beneath my feet is open wide. The way that I been holding on too tight, with nothing in between." 

ISABELLA

He calls out for me, but I ignore his drunken pleas. Every inch of me is screaming to run away, to get out of here and to do it quick. He was drunk and hurt, but that was not an excuse to do what he did. To dance with some girl like that. To touch her the way that he did. To look at her the way that he did. 

He claimed that he loved me. That I was the one for him and that nobody else mattered. If that was the case, if those words were true, he wouldn't have done what he did. What I experienced tonight wasn't love. It was inconsiderate, rude, and most of all it was heartbreaking. 

"Isabella!" He shouts out to me. I ignore his pleas for me to stop. My feet only taking me faster across the front yard and towards the sidewalk. I reach for my phone in my messy bag. Once I find it, I pull it out and call the first cab number that pops up in my google search. 

"Manchester Cars, how may I assist you?"  A voice on the other line picks up. 

"Hi. I need a car. I'm at 23 Spruce Lane. If you can get here as soon as possible that'd be great. Thank you." 

"Will do ma'am. A car will be with you shortly." I hang up after saying a quick thank you. 

The late summer air wind cut through my thin t-shirt. I was beginning to regret wearing a skirt. I wrap my arms around my body, using as much body heat as I could muster up to keep me warm. Time seemed to move slowly. Bitter emotions were picking away at my heart. The vivid pictures of Harry and that girl, whoever she was, dancing away continued to play in my mind like a broken film. 

I walk in circles. The movement generating some heat to my cold fingers and toes. I can hear someone move close to me. The familiar scent of mint and aged whiskey filters through the air and into my senses. "Isabella will you fucking wait." He calls out for me. I cringe at the harshness of his voice. 

My head whips to the side, eyes narrowing at the man in front of me. Harry is panting, surely out of breath from running after me. 

"Get away from me!"  

I bite my lip to hold back the hot tears that fight to fall down my cheeks. I couldn't appear to be weak. He would use it to his advantage. 

"For fucks sake." He mutters under his breath. His green eyes are no longer bright and clear, but have been darkened by his night of partying. His hair is a disheveled mess on top of of his hair. Clear signs of him running his fingers through it is evident in the way that it falls back. 

"What are you doing?" 

"Why would you care about what I'm doing. You obviously didn't care about me while you were gyrating your fucking hips into that girl's ass." I scoff at him. Harry's eyes narrow. 

"Please." It was his turn to scoff. "It was your idea to come to this party in the first place. I was having some fun." 

"Oh? Because leaving your girlfriend alone at a party she doesn't know anyone at is really fun. Thanks Harry. It's great to know what your definition of a good time is. I'll make a note of it for all future events." I retort back. Each word dripping with sarcasm. He had some nerve to throw this back in my face. I turn around and begin walking in the opposite direction of him and the party.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"To a club. Maybe there's a hot guy I can go dance with. I hear it's the thing to do." I yell over my shoulder. 

"Real mature, Isabella. Real fucking mature." 

"It takes one to know one." I bite back. It wasn't my proudest comeback, but I didn't care right now. I was hurt, I was cold and I was so damn tired. "I'm going home, Harry." 

Harry's pace is quick. His steps matching each of mine. He reaches out for my arm and pulls me to a stop. I squirm in his grasp. All attempts to get free from him failing, his grip on me being too strong. "You don't know your  way around here. You'll get lost. Or worst... killed. I don't fucking need you getting killed." 

"I don't know why you care. It's not like you've been showing me that you care all fucking day." 

He takes a deep breath. Eyes shutting, he wets his lips with his tongue. "You need to learn that when I say I don't want to do something, or that I don't want to talk about it, to stop pestering  me and listen. It's annoying! I don't need you sticking your nose into my life. If I want you to know something, I'll tell you." His drunken words slur off his tongue. He was drunk but that didn't excuse him from what he was saying.  Drunk words were sober thoughts.

"Great," I scoff. "Glad to know that my caring is annoying. I'll be sure to not care about you in the future." I pull my arm out of his grip. Tingling sensations seep through my arm. The desperate need to slap him is at an all-time high. I am quick to put my hands back in the pocket of my sweater. Far away from doing something I'd potentially regret. As if God above was on my side, my car pulls up. 

"Perfect." I walk over to the car, my hand grasping the car handle to open it. 

"So that's it? You're going to leave me." 

"I can't be near you right now. I can't even look at you. What you've said to me tonight was uncalled for, and quite frankly, offensive. I love you Harry but right now, I really don't like you." I bite on my lip hard. The feeling is discomforting as I wet my dry, cracked lips. 

He stares at me. I can feel his hard gaze bore into my forehead. I couldn't manage to look up at him, knowing that if I did, I'd break down at his rigid glare. Without another word, I step into the car, shutting the door quick behind me. I look out the tinted window to see Harry stand there. Bewilderment and hurt engraved into his features. My heart was screaming to stay, to hear him out and to talk about this. But my mind was telling me no. If he wanted to talk about this in the first place he would have done something, and wouldn't have danced with another girl like that. I would have understood that we were going to the home of his deceased ex-girlfriend. I would have not pushed him to mend his past if he only opened up to me. But of course, closed off Harry strikes again. 

"Where to miss?" The driver's voice breaks me from my thoughts. 

"Oh um," I skim through my memory of the address to Harry's mom's place. I look at my phone to find the address, giving it to him. 

The driver nods in understanding before he pulls out, and away from the house. Away from the man I had given my heart to but managed to shatter it in less than twenty-four hours. 

-

"I'll be really quick. Please wait here," I tell the cab driver the moment we pull up in front of the large home. He gives me a nod as I rush out of the car, and up the steps of the Beck residence. 

I knock on the door lightly, hoping that maybe someone would be awake. I check my phone to   see that it was already reaching 1AM. Denise opens it up, a soft smile on her lips. "Oh, hi Isabella. Mrs. Beck said you and Harry had a key. I was about to leave for the night." She laughs but stops the moment she looks over my shoulder and notices that I am alone. 

"Where's Harry?" She asks carefully. 

"Not, um... he's not here." I sniffle. My resolve was slowly breaking. The tears fighting even harder to be released. 

"Are you alright?" She asks me tentatively. 

I shake my head, "Um. No, not really." 

Denise reaches out for my arm, pulling me into her arms. She gives me a sympathetic smile the moment she notices the cab that is waiting patiently for me. "Men are dicks." She speaks to me softly. "My ex was a bastard. Wouldn't know how to treat a woman right even if you showed him how." 

"Harry's a great guy. He's just... he doesn't know how to show it sometimes." 

"He didn't hurt you did he?" Denise pulls me back. Her eyes searching my face for any signs of harm. 

"No." I quickly shake my head. "Harry wouldn't hurt a fly. He's an idiot is all." 

She studies me for a few more moments. "Alright." Denise pulls me into the house and we walk up the stairs quietly. It was already late into the night and Samantha was surely already asleep. The moment I walk into the bedroom, I pull everything that I need into my bag. I double, triple check everything to make sure that I haven't missed anything. 

Outside is cold. I hold my sweater close to my body. "Thanks Denise," I turn to the young maid. Her eyes watch me carefully. Her lips turn up into a small smile. 

"Of course, Isabella. Get home safe, alright? And here," she pulls out a piece of paper. "This is my cell number. Text me if you need to talk or what not. I visit London often on the weekends since my boyfriend lives there. Maybe we can grab a coffee or something soon?" 

"I'd like that," I smile. We hug once more before I step out of the house and head back towards the car. "Thank you for waiting." I say to the driver once I shut the door. He looks at me through the rearview mirror. 

"No problem, miss. Where am I taking you next?" 

"The train station please." 

- 

I sit at the front of the bookstore. My fingers are playing with a ballpoint pen, eyes fixated on nothing in particular. My phone is buzzing. A familiar sound that I had grown acquainted with over the past two days. 

Glancing over, I see his name light up. This was the twentieth call today. Just another call amongst the hundreds of feeble attempts he's made since Saturday night.  

I hit the ignore button. My stubborn nature not wanting to hear him right now. I didn't want to listen to his sad attempts to explain what he did. I was still hurt. The ache in my chest wasn't leaving anytime soon. The burning picture of Harry dancing is still engraved into my mind. A picture that hasn't left and will most likely stay for a while.

The time clicked away and soon enough my day at the bookstore was over. I shut everything off and lock up the door. September had hit London hard. The autumn air growing increasingly cooler. I hold my jean jacket close. The wind picks up, moving my hair up and around my face. I brush it back, tucking a loose strand behind my ear. 

The walk back to mine and Jaz's apartment is quick. The walk becoming second nature to me the longer I stayed in London. The building is warm. The moment I walk in, the heat kisses my face. 

"Hello?" I call out into the apartment. The door had been unlocked but Jaz was nowhere to be seen. I hear shuffling in the kitchen but no answer. I grab the first thing I find, an umbrella, and hold it up in front of my face. 

"Ah!" I yell, jumping into the kitchen. Hands let go of my arm. Jaz screams, dropping her bowl of cereal onto the ground. 

"Holy shit! You fucking scared me." I yell, clutching onto my chest. I shoot daggers into her crystal blue eyes. "Don't ever sneak up on me again." I wipe my eyes, running my  hands over my face. 

Jaz begins to laugh. Her own hands clutching her sides. "Sorry babe. It was funnier in my head." 

"You're a bitch," I lightly slap her arm. She feigns hurt, rubbing her arm up and down. She then lets go. Her faux frown turning up right into a smile. "I have a surprise for you!" She jumps up and down. Her hands clapping in excitement. 

"A new roommate?" I joke only to earn a light push to the shoulder. "Just joking." 

"No. Not a new roommate. Much better than that!" She walks over to her bedroom door and opens it. She stands there, looking at me expectantly. My brows furrow, confusion taking over my features. 

"Why are you smiling at me like that?" I hesitantly walk over to her. Her lips stretched out into an overly enthused smile. 

"Hey stranger!" I jump back. My eyes surely were playing tricks on me because standing in front of me, in all his dark and handsome glory, was my best friend. 

"Ty?!" I run into his open arms. He engulfs me into a bear hug. His arms holding me tight. The familiar scent of his cologne takes over my senses. It brings back memories of home and the many nights spent together. God, I missed him. 

"You're here? Oh my God! You're here!" I latch onto him one more time. My arms wrapping around his neck, holding him close to me. 

Ty lets out a chuckle. His hazel eyes looking down at me. I run my thumb over his scruff. Relishing in the feeling of him being here. My best friend was here. 

"I missed you T," I tell him softly. He smiles down at me, eyes watching me carefully. 

"I missed you too Iz."