Though my conversation with John undoubtedly changed my opinion of Harry, the other part of me who is lowkey obsessed with him, can't help but hope for some kind of message from him. And unfortunately, this part of me remains disappointed. It is now Friday and history class has come and gone with still no word from Harry. When I arrive at my dorm, I see that Sadie and Jess are there sitting in the common room watching some ridiculous show called "Southern Charm." I decide to watch it with them, and though the people are completely insane, I can't help but watch because of the complete train wreck it is.

When the show ends, I ask my roommates what their plans are for the evening, and they inform me that they will be hopping from one band party to the next. They inquire about Harry and whether I will be attending his party or not. Sadly, I tell them that since he hasn't reached out to me, I don't think I will be going.

Almost like he could sense me talking about him, I get a text from Harry. It takes a lot of self-control, but I manage to wait seven whole minutes before opening it, and, at Sadie's rather aggressive request, I read it aloud.

"Sorry we didn't get to speak much this week. Been busy with some exec stuff. Hope you can make it tonight. H."

We sit in silence for a few moments contemplating the simplicity of his message before Sadie asks, "Wait, I thought you said he literally didn't even look at you all week?"

I nod in confirmation and look back down at my phone. I reread his text a few times and by the fifth time, I'm honestly a little pissed off. He didn't so much as look in my direction or make any effort to speak to me either in person or over text, so for him to be so nonchalant about it frustrates me. I get that he's busy and all, but like, don't pretend like you talked to me when you didn't. I haven't any contact with him since our amazing date, or I guess I should say, what I thought was an amazing date.

"Well, that's shitty," Jess says, sitting upright on the couch and pulling her knees to her chest. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," I sigh, putting my phone down beside me. I'm going to need a few minutes to concoct a reply. If I go, then he'll think it's okay to not talk to me for a week straight and that's not acceptable. If I don't go, then whatever it is we're doing is probably over. Then there's what John told me to consider. Not going would most definitely be the smarter thing to do, but the part of me that is infatuated with him urges me to not lose out on what I could be having. Clearly, my own brain can't possibly decide this, so I put it to my roommates to decide.

"What do y'all think I should do?" I ask them.

Jess simply shrugs, "It can't hurt to go."

Sadie, however, has a much more complicated response, "No. You shouldn't go, but you don't want it to be over, I assume. So, what you have to tell him is that you're going party-hopping with us and that you might show up at some point, which of course, you won't. Then, if he really likes you, he'll be hung up on you all night wondering when you'll stop by, and if he texts you tomorrow asking where you were, then that'll be evidence of it. This way, you let him know that two can play at whatever game he's playing with you."

When Sadie finishes, she wears a devilishly proud look on her pretty face, and I can't help but look at her in awe. In reality, I know there are a lot of flaws with this plan and it probably won't work out the way I think it will, but still, my present frustration makes Sadie's scheme seem like the greatest plan ever devised.

"You're a genius," I state simply, picking up my phone and beginning my reply. I decide I won't address the part about him being busy and instead jump straight into my plans for this evening.

"Ok, how does this sound? 'Would love to, but I'm supposed to go out with my roommates tonight. Might stop by eventually, though. If I do, I'll let you know.' Is that okay?" I question, and Sadie nods.

"That's perfect, send it," Sadie says, and Jess agrees. Oh, I feel so wonderfully evil playing his game against him.

Within seconds, the gray typing bubble pops up to indicate that Harry has read my reply and is going to send something in return. Ha, someone's eager.

"Y'all, he's typing," I borderline scream, and my two roommates join me.

In the end, he doesn't reply. I'm simultaneously disappointed and satisfied with this outcome. Disappointed, because that crazy part of me wants to talk to him. Satisfied, because the educated part of me knows his game and with his lack of response, I have the upper hand. Or at least, that is what my brain convinces me to believe. I know I'm overthinking every aspect of this, but I don't care. Let me overthink until I'm dead and I will still have no regrets.

We spend the evening hanging out and getting ready. Apparently, the next step in catching Harry's attention is a well-planned Snapchat story. Thus, when Gabrielle arrives and all four of us are finished with hair and makeup, Sadie takes a rather stunning mirror selfie of all of us in which I am forced to be in the center. According to Sadie, this will draw the eye to me and let him know what he's missing out on. She says it would work better if I would wear a more revealing dress, but I decide against it and go with a tight, high-necked, black lace dress comes down to my mid-thigh. It's not the sluttiest thing I own, but it's enough to draw the eye.

Once the selfie is up, we head out and walk towards the frat houses. There are at least two that I know my roommates want to hit up, so I think my night will be properly occupied. Before we enter through the back, Sadie stops me and tells me that she will find me in twenty minutes and I shall have to take another selfie with her for the Snap story. She says this one is the most important because it will tell him that I'm having a good time and that I'm next door. Apparently, this fraternity is next to Harry's house, so it will make an even greater impact on him that I'm so close to him but still choosing to stay somewhere else. This all sounds so insane, I doubt it will work like that in real life.

We walk inside from the back gate into a courtyard full of people drinking and dancing along to whatever it is that the band is playing. The scene is rather overwhelming if I'm being honest, and I don't really know what it is that I'm supposed to do. Within seconds, Sadie, Jess, and Gabrielle are all off doing God knows what, and I am left standing alone. That is, I am alone until some guy named Chad comes up to me and asks me to dance to which I say, "Why the hell not?"

So I end up dancing with Chad for a solid ten minutes before Sadie comes up to me and snatches my phone from me. She opens up Snapchat and takes another selfie that depicts she and I hugging each other while Chad stands in the background, enthusiastically trying to be a part of whatever is happening. With a clever caption and one last tap, she posts it on my story and disappears again.

Chad offers to get me a drink and I accept, following him through the crowd of people to the bar. He gets the bag of wine and opens the spout, pouring it into a red solo cup and handing it to me. I take a sip of it and kind of want to die. This wine tastes like piss and I can't help but think back to the wine Harry brought out for me. How is it that I've gone from that to this?

I am distracted from these rather dismal thoughts when Chad asks me if I'm okay. I nod, brightening my facial expression to not look so sad, "Yeah, I'm fine. I just can't seem to pay attention to anything tonight."

He nods understandingly and asks me if I want to keep dancing or not. I decide that if I'm going to survive this evening, cheap wine and dirty dancing is the only way it's going to happen. The walk back to the courtyard seems much longer than I remember, but eventually, we reach it and the dancing resumes. I feel myself getting drowsier and drowsier as the minutes go by that I feel like I need to just lay down and nap.

"Hey, Chad. I'm going to step out for a minute. I need to call my friend real fast," I shout up at the tall boy grinding against me.

"You sure? You want me to come with you?" he asks and I shake my head.

"Yeshh, I'm sure," I find myself slurring. What the fuck was in that drink? I'm not normally a lightweight. "I'll be right back." I turn to walk away and take each step way slower than it should be taken. I don't see any of my roommates on the way out, but I decide that I'll call them as soon as I get outside. When I finally pass beyond the gates, I find that my steps are no longer in line and my eyes can't seem to stay open. I think that useless dildo of a human drugged me. I mean, I should have known. His name is Chad.

Struggling to take out my phone, I find myself sitting on the grass by the side of the house. I manage to call Sadie, but she doesn't answer. When neither Jess nor Gabrielle answers, I begin to panic. If no one comes to get me, then I'm going to be the easiest target for Chad in the world. Of course, that was his design.

When I begin to think all hope is lost, an insane thought crosses my mind. Harry is just next door. He could help me. Though I don't exactly trust Harry, I know for a fact that if I choose to let Chad find me, there is only one possible ending to this story. At least with Harry, there's a chance I'll make it out unscathed. Thus, alone, nearly about to pass out, and collapsed on the lawn of the Sigma Alpha What's-it-called house, I call Harry Styles and he answers after less than two rings.

"Hey," Harry says coolly, his tone even and casual despite the loud music pounding on his side of the line.

"Harryy," I try to force more words from my mouth but they won't come. All I can manage is his name and it sounds groggy and ridiculous.

"Whoa, are you okay?" His suave tone from moments ago is lost and is replaced with one of concern.

"Nooo, I– help.. pleaaaase," is all I can say. I'm so frustrated because I can feel my brain getting foggier and there's nothing I can do about it. I know what I want and need to say, but the words just won't come out.

"Where are you?" he asks me, his breath now slightly uneven. Is he walking outside? A wave of panic surges through me as I hear footsteps approaching on the concrete walkway behind me. I should be feeling my heart racing, but I don't. I don't feel anything at all.

"Next door. Hurryy.. he's coming," I manage to whisper into the phone before collapsing fully into the grass. What a fucking mess.

•••

Oh snap, stupid Chad. Does anyone follow OldRow on insta or Twitter bc that is what Chad is based on lol
Thanks for reading guys! Don't forget to vote if you can! Thank you! :)
-Kate🖤