(again, four songs because of a switch in POV—and I just love all four of these so much for this chapter)

SONG(s) FOR CHAPTER:

♬ Your Guardian Angel by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus ♬

♬ Fall For You by Secondhand Serenade ♬

♬ The Reason by Hoobastank ♬

♬ Hanging By A Moment by Lifehouse ♬

CHAPTER 12

❀ GRACE WALKER ❀

DINNER HAD BEEN exceptionally awkward that night. Even though we went out to eat as a group (meaning Brady, Ivette, Audrey, Dylan, Evan and I), it still felt as if it were just me and him. I could feel his eyes even when I was looking in the totally opposite direction.

And he hadn't spoken to me since we left the locker rooms. I hadn't spoken to any of them much, either. Jacob had gone back in the room with a look my way, but I figured he'd squeeze information out of Harry. Ivette had asked me if he was alright, along with Brady, and it was easy enough to say he was.

At least, I hoped he was. We hadn't left on an injured foot again, so I took that as a sign that he would be alright.

Not to mention I could still feel the ghost of his lips, and he no doubt could feel mine.

We ate at a simple burger place, where I had gotten chicken tenders and Brady had teased me about still not venturing out. I had yet to break the habit of trying something different when chicken tenders was so blatant on the menu, practically taunting me.

Evan sat next to me, though it was kind of forced. It was the only seat left and everyone else was already indulged in conversations. I didn't want us to be on weird grounds just because of my... complicated relationship with Harry.

"Are you okay?" I asked stupidly—it was obvious he wasn't.

But he tried to smile anyways. "Yeah, I'm fine. Are you okay?"

I nodded, breaking a piece of chicken off and taking a bite. After I swallowed, I pressed the conversation further. "Are you mad at me?"

He actually laughed then. "Why would I be mad at you, Grace?"

Shrugging sheepishly, I picked at my fries. "Because I didn't tell you I knew Harry, I guess."

"I kind of figured," he said. "When you asked if I could give him a ride to his hotel the night of the concert. I just didn't think..." He pursed his lips, eyebrows pulling together. "I just didn't think you two had been... a thing, I guess."

I snorted. "Is it that surprising?" I only half joked.

Evan smiled, more effortlessly this time. "Kind of, yeah. He doesn't really seem like your type..."

"What is my type?" I rose an eyebrow.

He cheeks flushed some, a mere shrug of his shoulders following. "I obviously don't know. I was almost beginning to think I could be your type but..."

I looked down at my food; he did the same.

A small silence settled over us. Audrey tried to get me to convince Dylan that her cooking skills were improving, and I must have made a more unconvincing face than I thought because he practically cried from laughing so hard. Audrey was trying to tell him she was a better cook, but she eventually just started laughing with him.

I concluded they were cute together. At least for now. Anyone could screw up an adorable relationship in the blink of an eye. I hoped Dylan wasn't one of those people. Audrey truly seemed really interested in him.

Evan cleared his throat, bringing my gaze warily back to him. "Are you guys, like... a thing again?" he asked quietly.

"Not really," I told him. But then I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. "I don't know. I'm kind of conflicted, honestly."

"With me?"

"With both of you," I murmured, rubbing my forehead and hoping that didn't sound as stupid as I thought.

I was surprised to see he was smiling just the slightest. "I really like you, Grace," he told me. "And I want to say I'd fight for you, but if it's against him... a physical fight would not be a smart idea." I laughed a little and he added, "But I don't plan on going anywhere any time soon unless you tell me to."

I gave him a little smile. "I like you, Evan. I do."

His face brightened at that.

My smile twitched, a frown pulling my lips downwards. "But—"

"You really like him, too," he finished for me, his eyes dimming a bit but he still looked relieved, in a way.

 I really love him, I almost said, but didn't. There was no need to totally rule Evan out. I didn't want to lose him, and I only told Harry he still had a chance. He could still screw up his chance. If I'm being truthful, I didn't want him to screw that chance up.

But I also didn't want to be the girl that gave the guy too many chances, especially when she had another decent guy willing to wait for her.

"We're okay, though, right?" I assured, raising my eyebrows curiously, almost anxiously.

Evan smiled, his second genuine smile since we got to dinner. "Of course we're okay, Grace."

I frowned, realization dawning on me. "I feel like a jerk. Like I'm using you."

His lips curled into a smirk. "Honestly? I like you so much that I probably wouldn't care if you were. But I don't think you are. I watched my brother go through the same thing with two girls that he really liked. He had a history with one, kind of like you with Harry."

"Who won?"

"Layla, the girl he met that year." His eyes held mine for a long moment. "The one he had a history with, Bethany, felt like she was betrayed because he took so long to choose, so she told Layla she could have him."

My eyebrows pinched together. "Are they still together?"

His smile yet again fell away. "They would be, but... he got in a bad car accident last year."

"Oh, Evan, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry like that."

He shook his head, a strained smile trying to keep itself steady. "It's okay. You didn't know."

The rest of dinner was pursued in silence.

♕ HARRY STYLES ♕

I didn't bother Grace again until Thursday of the same week. The hotel wouldn't allow us to keep adding nights onto the tab, considering they had numerous people already waiting for the room, so Jacob would apartment seeking. More so to rent, since as of now it didn't seem like a permanent living place.

He found one close to the hospital where Grace works. I could walk and be there in almost ten minutes. I think he did it intentionally, but he wouldn't admit it. I didn't really care if it were intentional or not, just that I felt closer to her already.

I hoped she didn't think I had wasted my chance since I hadn't seen her since Monday after the fight. I had been quite busy, in all honesty, what with the apartment renting and Josh's consistent training. The next fight wasn't until a month or so, but he was trying to make arrangements in case arrangements were needed.

Leaving Jacob in the apartment on his laptop working on his schoolwork and Josh still sleeping on the couch (he didn't bother finding his own place—this one was big enough for the three of us, temporarily), I shoved my hands in my pockets and started down the road.

It felt easier now, walking to her and knowing that I wouldn't simple fumble over words about getting another chance. She was giving it to me now and I simply had to make the best of it. I wanted us to at least carry conversations as effortlessly as we used to.

The hospital doors opened, a gush of cool air smacking me in the face along with the immense aroma of antiseptics. Horrendous body odor followed that stench, and the two did not combine well. I glanced around to see a large man sitting in the waiting room, hair looking as if he'd just washed it when really it was covered in grease.

So much for keeping the hospital bacteria free.

I shuffled towards the elevator somewhat quickly, pushing floor three where Jacob told me the interns were. It did feel a little weird to just show up out of the blue, but I hadn't thought about letting her know I was coming. To me, it would be like an odd surprise. Or maybe a pleasant one.

I prayed it would be the latter.

The doors opened with a large desk in the front, and I vaguely remember the corridor from where I had been wheeled out with a terrible headache. I scrunched my nose at the sour memory before walking up to the desk.

I hadn't expected Grace to just be there, but she was. Sitting behind a computer with her eyes scanning quickly, like she was devouring every word. She hadn't even seen me walk up.

"I could be a dying patient and you'd never know until you heard my body thump on the floor."

Grace jumped, like I startled her, her eyes flicking up to mine. I leaned my elbows on the counter, smiling when those brown eyes sparkled just the slightest.

"Don't you know what a phone call is?" she joked. "Or a text message?"

I shrugged. "I'm old-fashioned." I was only half teasing.

Grace smiled a little. "Can I help you, Patient-That-Is-Obviously-Not-Dying?"

"You can, actually, by informing me the time of your lunch break."

Grace pursed her lips, wheeled her chair around to look at the clock behind her and then wheeled it back around to face me. She placed her elbow on the desk, her chin on her hand. "In about ten minutes." She smiled then, almost mockingly. "Why is my lunch break important to you, Styles?"

I almost breathed out in relief at how she titled me by my last name again, like she used to. It showed, to me at least, that we weren't on awkward grounds anymore. God, I was so thankful for that. I missed this back and forth banter more than I probably should've.

I leaned forward a little more, our faces inches apart which made both of our smiles widen a bit. "Because, intern lady, I would quite like it if you accompanied me for lunch."

She stifled a laugh, backing away some, much to my dismay. "Intern lady? Is that how you plan on swooning me?"

"We sort of had a formal conversation going, so I kept rolling with it," I told her. She giggled. I smiled. She was adorably beautiful.

"Hmm," she hummed, as if pondering the question deeply. "I guess I could sacrifice an hour of my time for you."

"Why, I'm honored." I actually was, in a pathetic kind of way.

Before either of us could speak again, a door closed to my left. We both looked that way, Grace scooting back a little more and I sat up a little straighter. But it was only that Evan person—who I would continue to refer to as that Evan person.

He seemed stunned that I was there, but smiled at both of us. You could tell he didn't really mean it, but his eyes still shined brightly when they locked on Grace's face. I clenched my jaw. I wouldn't screw this chance up over a little jealousy. His crush for Grace was nothing compared to my utter adoration for her.

Grace looked at the clock again, almost like she was now desperate to leave. She shut the computer down before inhaling a breath. "Hey, Evan. Would you mind if I left for lunch a little early? I mean, it's a slow day so you wouldn't—"

"Sure," he cut her off, not even glancing up.

She frowned some, but muttered a quiet thanks and grabbed her shoulder bag. She walked around the desk, past me, and jabbed the elevator button. I wanted to put my hand on her back; I wanted to put my hand in hers; I wanted to put my hand on her chin and pull our faces together.

I didn't do any of that, however, because the elevator dinged before I lost the little control I had. (a/n: shh, yes, I'm listening to "no control" while writing this... go ahead and sing it out in the comments if you wish, lol x)

"So, where are we going?" Grace asked while we stood shoulder to shoulder in the confined space.

I thought about kissing her again, but pushed it away. "I don't know, honestly," I told her. "I thought I'd just let you pick."

She laughed. "How very typical Harry Styles of you."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Who knows?" she teased, and the elevator doors opened.

We ended up going to a small cafe, sitting outside in the sunny yet cool weather. There was a nice breeze blowing, occasionally whipping some of Grace's hair in her face and I would fight the urge to tuck it behind her ear for her. There were a few clouds in the sky, but not storm clouds.

Grace chose this cafe because she said they had really good smoothies and turkey wraps. I took her word for it, letting her pick something for me. I was never really picky when it came to food. As long as it wasn't Brussels sprouts or cauliflower. I really didn't like either of those.

But I was open to trying new foods, and the blueberry-strawberry-banana smoothie Grace got me was exceptionally mouth watering. She had gone with the one she always gets, a combination of kiwi and strawberry, but she said her roommate always got the blueberry one. She said it "sounded" like a smoothie I would like.

"Again, I'm not sure how to take that." I laughed but took another sip. Grace let me try some of hers and it was difficult to pick a favorite.

"I know you like blueberries," she said. "And strawberries and bananas. So mixing them together just seems like the Harry thing to do."

I shook my head in amusement.

I never realized how much I actually missed Grace until that moment. Yes, I had said time and time again how much I missed her, but this was the true eye-opener. She was already making unintentional puns (she was reading one of the smoothies and said "that sounds splendid" and practically laughed herself into hyperventilating) and laughing at the joggers that ran by looking as if they were on the verge of their death bed.

"But I can't knock them completely," she had said, "because they're actually trying to get physical exercise and I'm not."

It didn't seem logical that you could forget how utterly beautiful someone was. But two years definitely took it's toll, and I suppose I didn't expect Grace to still be her pun-loving lazy self. I was stupid to think she would've changed at all. People like Grace only continue to blossom—they don't ever lose petals.

"Grace, I'm not going to throw an acorn at that poor guy."

"Why not? He'll think it fell from the tree above him. He's sleeping on a bench, Harry. Better us alert him than the police."

I was laughing at how persistent she was actually being with this, like she was genuinely worried. "They can't arrest him for sleeping on a bench. They'll just tell him to leave."

Grace huffed. "Fine. We won't indirectly harass him... But that harassment would be beneficial—"

"Grace."

"Sorry."

I smiled, looking down at the smoothie cup. "You're in a really good mood today."

"What kind of mood did you think I'd be in?" she asked, taking a sip from her own smoothie.

I shrugged. "I guess I thought you'd still be pretty mad at me."

She gave me a look, sighing some. "I was never mad at you, Harry. And I don't like to hold grudges, anyways. Besides, you're trying and I can see that and I know it'd be easier if I tried too."

"You're a pretty great person, Grace," I said lamely.

"I know," she joked. I gave her a look. She laughed. "Oh! But I do have news that improved my mood."

I rose an eyebrow.

She grinned. "My mom is pregnant."

My eyes widened. "Really? Her and Mr. Pell are still married?"

She nodded. "Yup. And now there's a bun in the oven. She sent me an ultrasound picture yesterday. It's like a little Lima bean." Grace pulled out her phone and showed me the black and white picture.

"How did Noah feel about it?"

"Mom said he didn't really approve at first. But yesterday she told me he went to the ultrasound and looked happy enough."

"That's really exciting, Grace."

Her smile impossibly brightened—making her impossibly more beautiful. "I know. I just can't believe it," she murmured. "I hope it's not a boy. I don't think I'll care if it is, but it'd be nice to have a little sister."

Unintentionally, I thought about my own sister. I still hadn't heard from her at all. I wasn't even sure if she was alive, but that thought made my stomach churn. Surely she was. She was always luckier than I was. She's probably a millionaire by now because of whoever took her in when she abandoned me.

I didn't realize I was frowning until I felt Grace's hand on top of mine, drawing me back to reality. "Sorry," I muttered. "Zoned out, I guess."

She gave me a soft smile, but there was worry in her eyes. "Harry..." She was fumbling over her words and that made me nervous. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

I frowned at her but nodded.

"Then can I ask you a serious question? And don't yell at me or anything. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

What in the world kind of question could she be asking that she has to say that? I wouldn't yell at her, not for anything. I tried to keep my temper in check these days. Even a few days ago in the locker rooms, I had only raised my voice at her once. I knew she didn't like that sort of confrontation. I also knew that she didn't deserve it.

"Okay...," I trailed off, giving her a suspicious look.

She took in a deep breath but somehow held eye contact as she whispered, "Have you been taking your prescriptions Dr. Miles gave you?"

(note—Grace isn't supposed to know about the prescriptions because she isn't supposed to know about the disorders. just to clear possible confusion. Jesus, I'm obsessed with writing this right now but I'm really tired.

I'm also getting an ombre tomorrow, kind of like how the YouTuber Zoella's was. I'm really nervous. I've never been so... eccentric... wish me luck, lol. probably another update tomorrow. love you lots x)