SONG(s) FOR CHAPTER: 

♬ Still The One by One Direction♬

♬ Cardiac Arrest by Bad Suns ♬ 

CHAPTER 11

❀ GRACE WALKER ❀

"GOSH, I MISSED you so freaking much!" squealed Ivette as she hugged me again. I laughed, devouring the remembrance of one of her hugs. It really had been far too long.

We talked while waiting for the match to start, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't been a little nervous. I wasn't one for violence, especially when someone I cared very deeply for was in the middle of it. 

Needless to say, I was fairly shocked (and relieved) when Harry skillfully missed his opponent's first jabs.

Evan was practically jumping with excitement. "BAM! Man, did you see that punch?" he exclaimed, clapping loudly after Harry landed his fist on the other man's jaw.

I shrunk in my seat some. I knew Harry was strong, that was a given, but this was beyond me. He never came off as a violent person, and yet here he was determined to prove his talent. And he definitely had talent. But did UFC have to be one of them?

After the first round, Evan was standing and clapping loudly. I glanced over to Audrey and her lover, Dylan, smiling when I saw they were both smiling as well. Then I looked to Ivette and Brady, not exactly shocked when Brady kissed her cheek but in awe all the same. I had always been rooting for them.

Evan sat back down, his arm going around the back of my chair. The crowd was still fairly loud, cheering for the next round and I heard many of them chanting Harry's name. It was hard to say I wasn't proud of him. Of course I was. He deserved the best. Again, I was just a bit confused, I suppose, with the path he chose.

Evan leaned over to me so I could hear him over the cheering. "Thank you again, Grace, for the tickets."

I smiled. "You're such a sap."

He laughed, his eyes locking with mine. "A sap that's very grateful to have a friend like you."

My smile stretched a little further. "Well, you're very welcome."

He stared at me a moment longer, his eyes flicking downwards to my lips. I should've seen in coming when he leaned in just the slightest, but his lips were pressing to mine before I could protest.

Right when the bell rang for the second round, I pulled back some, my hand on his chest to separate us a bit. It was such an abrupt move on his part, totally catching me off guard.

His cheeks flushed incredibly red. "I... uh..." He ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I need some air."

Before I could say anything, he was already standing and jogging up the stairs to the exit.

I stood to go after him, to tell him it was okay. I wasn't mad that he kissed me, just... flustered, I suppose. From what he said Friday, it should have been an expected move. But even an expected move can be surprising.

Ivette grabbed my hand, catching my attention. I looked down at her to see her eyes wide and directly on the ring, my own eyes following her attention and a small gasp fled me.

The second round had only started mere seconds ago yet Harry's opponent was already on his back. The most shocking thing, however, was Harry straddling him sending fist after fist into the bigger man's face. From our seats, the blood was vibrant, pooling all around the man's face.

 Tap out, you idiot!

As if by telepathy, the defeated man did just that. A ref went to pull Harry off, but Harry was already shoving himself away. He ran his gloved and slightly blood-stained hands through his hair in a frustrated motion. I could see the worry on Jacob's face, pride and worry on Josh's, but there was more defeat in Harry's eyes than in his losing opponent's.

Had the man said something cruel to him? What could've possibly struck a nerve so deep inside Harry that he went damn near ballistic?

Brady was standing, leaning over a chair as if to get a better view. Ivette was still holding my hand tightly, concern stretching across her features. Audrey was holding a hand over her mouth at the sight of the blood. Dylan was cheering loudly along with the rest of the crowd. Evan must've came back in, because he was standing at the end of our row cheering with Dylan.

I wasn't quite sure what I looked like. Horrified, shocked, worried—more or less all three combined.

Harry was announced the winner while the defeated one stood in the corner holding a rag to his nose. Harry actually went over and looked to be apologizing, but the elder threw his middle finger up. A sore loser, in my opinion, considering he had signed up for this ridiculous sport. The least you could do was accept the damage deemed to be done.

"We should go check on him," said Brady as Harry, Josh, and Jacob all headed back into the locker room.

I nodded in agreement, numbly following as the scene played through my mind like a broken record. The only other time I had seen Harry so violent was when Aria had called him multiple times in a week to pick her up from a stranger's house. Heath had called me, was persistent to say that I could calm him down.

And I had.

I twisted my hands together as we entered the corridor. I was worried, of course I was. What if he still kept in touch with Fiona, Aria, and Heath and has gotten bad news from them? What kind of news, I had no idea, but it was a possibility.

Jacob came barreling out the locker room door when we were just feet away, sighing at our presence. "Oh, Jesus. I was just about to go find you guys." He looked behind me, scowling a little at the sight of Evan (who had apologized again on our walk to the locker rooms and asked how I knew Harry—I didn't know how to answer that question, so I didn't).

Audrey squealed a little. "Wow, do we get to meet him?"

Jacob gave me a look, then turned to them. "Um, momentarily, maybe. His girlfriend is needed first."

Evan stumbled over air. "What—girlfriend?" He turned to me, hurt and shock lacing his features. "You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend—and you sure as hell didn't tell me it was Harry Styles." He almost looked afraid saying that.

I huffed a little. "We're not dating."

Brady and Ivette turned around. "Still?" they gasped in unison.

Brady said, "Dang, I thought they would've been back together within weeks."

Ivette said, "But you guys are the ultimate relationship goals!"

I threw my hands up. "Seriously?"

Jacob grabbed my arm before anyone else could speak. I was pulled into the locker room right when Jacob told everyone else it should only be a few minutes. I went to open my mouth, but Jacob beat me to it. "Perfect opportunity for talking," he said. "Especially since you kind of caused the whole outburst thing."

"Me?" I asked incredulously.

He rolled his eyes and didn't answer until we were in the middle of the locker room. "He's over there," he whispered, pointing down an aisle where Harry sat on a bench with his hands twisting violently, head facing the floor.

I couldn't even argue considering Jacob practically pushed me over. So, sighing, I folded my arms across my chest and walked over. He hadn't even looked up, so I took a seat beside him. He was still wringing his hands one over the other, and it took me a minute to realize what he was doing.

Trying to get the blood off—his opponent's blood.

I found the bathroom part of the locker room and got a thick glob of paper towels, soaking them in warm water. I sauntered back over and knelt beside him, gently grabbing his wrist.

He nearly jumped ten feet in the air, making me jump in return. Had he really been oblivious that someone else was in here this whole time? I wasn't exactly tiptoeing around.

I bit my bottom lip, looking down to his hands while he stared at me. I started to scrub at the now dried blood, trying not to puke in the process. I let out a single shaky breath and then put all my attention on cleaning his hands.

"Why are you here?" he asked suddenly, his voice quiet as if he were afraid to be talking.

I glanced up at him before continuing to scrub his hands. "Believe it or not, Harry, your well-being matters a lot to me." I thought back to his long list of disorders and contemplated on bringing it up—I decided against it.

Once I got off as much as I could, I threw the paper towels away and sat beside him on the bench again. I stared down at my feet, trying to figure out what exactly Jacob thought I should do, then remembered he blamed me for the whole thing.

"What happened out there?" I inquired, looking over at him.

His jaw clenched as he glared down at his fingers, picking at the nails. "A fight," he answered simply.

I heaved a sigh. "Harry, I know we're not exactly close anymore, but you can still talk to me."

Now he was shaking his head. "No, Grace, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because," he practically whispered, "if I talk to you, it'll only remind me that you're not mine anymore. And that's something I don't want to be reminded of."

Swallowing, I found myself examining his face—the curve of his prominent jawline, the way his lips barely moved when he spoke, the faded green irises that always stared at me like I was a priceless piece of art rather than an average human. It was all still there, the slight twist in my nerves when his eyes met mine, a small breath hitching in my throat.

He was impossibly beautiful, and remarkably secretive.

"Harry, I still care about you—a lot, actually," was all I managed to finally reply.

His own response was like a slap in the face, a scoff fleeing his lips. "Don't let your boyfriend hear you say that."

Ah, so that's what Jacob meant... Harry had seen Evan kiss me and, typically enough, took it in the entirely wrong direction.

I stood, a bitter laugh escaping me. "First of all, he's not my boyfriend. Second of all, even if he was, I'm allowed to care about other people. Third of all, is that honestly why you practically beat that man's skull in out there?"

He dragged a hand through his hair, an angry movement before letting it fall back to his lap, his eyes glaring up at me. "You don't get it, Grace. I don't want to talk about it, all right?"

"What do I not get, Harry? That you're jealous?" I rose an eyebrow.

He was on his feet now as well, still exceptionally taller than me. "If it makes you happy that I admit it, then fine. Yes, I'm jealous. Satisfied?"

I took my own turn to scoff. "When did you get so shallow?"

"I'm not shallow, Grace," he grumbled, keeping his eyes locked on mine. His tone softened a bit when he added, "I just really fucking miss you, okay?"

I deflated a bit. "You had two years to fix that."

He let his head fall back, his hands running over his face. "Jesus, I know that. No one will let me ever fucking forget, will they?"

"Will you please stop cursing and yelling at me?" My eyes wavered back and forth between his. "No one will let you forget because you keep moping around without fully comprehending that it's your fault. Look at Brady and Ivette," I said, refusing to let a lump form in my throat, "it's been two years, they go to different colleges in different states, and they're still together. I told you that could've been us."

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, directing his eyes to the floor. He didn't speak.

I took in a breath before running a hand through my hair, going to walk off. I stopped when I passed him just the slightest, looking over my shoulder at him. "You're not the only one mad at you for not coming back sooner."

Right when I'm about to reach the door, I felt his hand close around my wrist. I turned to look at him, but his eyes were still distant from mine. "I'm back now," he murmured. "Doesn't that count for something?"

"You came back for a fight," I told him, voice quiet. "Not me."

He doesn't argue my standpoint, but I could see him thinking it through. "I'm supposed to leave again tomorrow," he said. He continued before I could speak. "But if there's still... a chance... I won't leave."

When I didn't answer, he finally pulled his eyes back up to mine, desperate and pleading they shined. "Is there still a chance?"

I gave a little shrug. "I don't know."

He let out a small breath. "That's not a no."

I almost laughed but pursed my lips instead. "You take it how you think you should," I said quietly, pulling my arm gently from his hand. My hand fell to the cool metal handle and I started to open it.

"Grace."

Turning again, I let the door fall closed as his large hands cupped my cheeks, bringing my mouth to his, his plump lips just as inviting as they used to be. I faltered for a moment, hesitance running through me, yet he pulled away before I could make up my mind.

He let his forehead press against mine, his thumbs tracing my cheekbones. He stared at my lips a moment longer before his eyes flicked up to meet mine. "If I would've let you walk away again without doing that, I'd hate myself even more."

I couldn't help but to let a little smile tug at my lips. However, small guilt churned my stomach when I thought of Evan, just outside the door and waiting for me. My feelings were torn on opposite sides of the playing fields, and I couldn't tell who had the most of them.

"Yes," I whispered.

His eyes sparkled. "What?"

"Yes," I repeated and reluctantly backed away from his touch, opening the door. "There's still a chance."

(another early update because I really freaking enjoy writing this book right now. shoot, there might even be another tomorrow. you never quite know with me, lol xx)