(No Control - 52. Spaces, second part)

"Jess, are you still there?" I ask, tentatively.

"I'm here," she replies.

"Do you believe me?"

It feels like my entire existence hinges on her answer.

"I... I don't know, Harry," she says, her voice trembling. "I think so. I want to, it's just..."

"It's just what?" I ask softly, trying to coax her into opening up to me again like she did right before she left LA.

"OK, just imagine you're me for a minute," she begins.

"OK."

I shift on my stool to get comfy and rest my elbows on the breakfast bar with the phone pressed to my ear.

"So, you're just a normal person, with a normal life and normal friends," she says. "You're hopelessly in love with this famous guy from, like, the biggest band in the world but he doesn't even know who you are."

Wait, WHAT?

Hopelessly in love? What the fuck?

My heart is pounding. My palms are sweating. 

She's still talking, something about me having women falling at my feet, and I struggle to focus on her words. 

"...and rightly so because he's gorgeous, sexy, funny and confident. And then one day you meet him at a party and realise he is everything you ever thought he was, and more."

She's hopelessly in love with me.

She's still talking, but I'm not fully listening. Something about hoping I would be interested in her or something.

She's hopelessly in love with me.

She did just say that, didn't she? I didn't imagine it? Why is she being so casual about it?

My face is breaking into a grin, and I focus again on what she is saying.

"...but then he goes on tour and sleeps with another fan and it's all over the papers. Then another kiss and tell story comes out, which he says happened weeks ago, before you met him. Then you find out he has a famous fuck buddy that he didn't tell you about, but he swears he hasn't seen her in months either... You see why I'm having trouble with all this?" she suddenly asks, and I realise she's waiting for an answer from me.

I don't even know how to respond. What do I say? I love her too? 

Do I? I'm not sure.

All I know is, I'm so fucking happy right now, I feel like my chest is going to burst.

"Err, Harry?" she prompts.

"You kind of had me at 'hopelessly in love'," I tell her stupidly, grinning like an idiot.

"It's an expression," she says bluntly. "You know what I mean. An embarrassing crush on a celebrity."

Oh my God. What the fuck?

So she isn't in love with me? She just took it back?

Fuck.

"Oh," I say, because there is nothing else to say. I feel like I was flying at a hundred miles an hour and just slammed into a brick wall.

I feel so fucking stupid for thinking she might love me. Thank God I never said it back. 

A slow burn of humiliation is making its way up my face.

"If I was listening to someone else telling this story I'd be telling her the guy is a player, he's lying to her and he's not to be trusted," she's now saying. "I'd be thinking she's an idiot for even giving him the time of day."

What the actual fuck?

"So why are you giving me the time of day?" I snap.

"Because... Because...," she stammers, and I feel my humiliation slowly turning into annoyance.

"Because despite everything I can't seem to walk away from you," she says eventually.

"You managed to walk away in the airport," I reply, struggling to keep my voice level. "You got on a plane and flew half way around the world to get away from me."

My hands are shaking. I want to yell at her for fucking with my emotions like this.

"That was a bit different," she says dismissively. "I was about to get on the plane home anyway."

Fuck this. I'm out. She's obviously not interested, so why prolong it?

"Look, Jess, what do you want from me?" I snap. "I've told you what happened. I've apologised for not telling you about it sooner. If you're not interested and you're looking for a get-out clause just say now and we'll call it quits."

"What?" she says, and she actually has the audacity to sound annoyed with me. "Have you not been listening?"

"Yep," I say shortly. "I finally hear you loud and clear. You had a crush on me because I'm famous and you used me for a bit of fun, and got to hang out with Liam and Louis in the process. You don't trust me, and you think I'm a player. I get it."

I finally get it. It took me a while to get it, but I get it.

"That's... that's not what I said, Harry," she says, lamely.

"Actually, Jess, that's exactly what you said," I call her out. "'Every fan's fucking dream.' " Those words still cause me pain, even two weeks later. I won't forget them in a hurry. "I think I'm done here," I say, with finality.

"Harry..," she protests, but I'm past the point of listening now. I'm hurt and humiliated and I don't want to talk about it anymore.

"So you know what? I'll stop calling, like you asked," I say, savagely. "But just for the record, I am not the person you think I am."

I pull the phone away from my ear and press the red button to end the call. I throw it down on the breakfast bar, push my stool back and stand up, clearing a couple of dirty dishes from the worktop and shoving them noisily into the dishwasher, trying to stop my hands from shaking; trying to act normally, even though no one can see me.

She thinks I'm a player. She thinks I'm a womaniser. Just when I thought she was getting to know the real me, and we'd grown closer, she throws that in my face and makes me realise she doesn't know me at all. 

Will anyone ever trust me? Or will every girl I meet believe the media cloud surrounding me, rather than the words that come out of my mouth? It's Nadine all over again. It's never going to change.

I thought I had shown Jess what she means to me while she was here. My feelings for her have been growing since the day we met, and even though I haven't had any contact with her for two weeks, they haven't subsided. 

After a couple of minutes my phone lights up again with a call from Jess, and I let it ring out before snatching it up from the worktop and switching it off. I don't want to listen to any more bullshit. 

I storm through to the lounge and flick the TV on, and don't move from the sofa until gone midnight. I drag myself up to bed, and can't resist switching my phone on just to see if Jess has tried to get in touch. It's so pathetic that I want her to have tried.

Several messages come through from my friends, but only one of them I am interested in.

I'm sorry, that all came out wrong. I shouldn't be allowed to speak to people when I'm drunk. I'll call you tomorrow. Sorry xxx  

I sigh, and climb into bed. I make sure my phone is on loud, and fall asleep, hoping to be woken up by the promised call.

I don't open my eyes until nearly midday on Sunday, and the first thing I do is reach for my phone. My unread messages are still blinking at me, but I have no missed calls, and no new messages from Jess. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed.

I take a shower, and then call Grimmy, because I have no chill.

"What's up H?" he answers.

"Hey," I mutter.

"So... someone got pissy and switched their phone off last night," he teases me.

"How do you know?" I protest.

"Duh - because Jess tried to call you back twice, and then I tried and your phone was off."

"Oh yeah," I nod. "Sorry. I was pissed off."

"I'm with you," he says. "You don't tell someone you love them and then take it back."

"You heard that?!" I yelp, feeling my cheeks redden again as I relive that moment of humiliation all over again.

"Yeah, she was well out of order," he replies. "If it's any consolation, we laid into her right after, and I think she felt bad."

"Whatever," I mutter. "She was supposed to call me today but she hasn't."

"So call her," he says immediately.

"I don't see why I should," I pout.

"Because if you don't you're going to let her slip through your fingers," he tells me. "Her mate's already trying to set her up with some dude -"

"Who?!" I snap, my heart suddenly thumping.

"Oh I dunno, some guy called Adam. But my point is, she's a honey, and she's going to get snapped up pretty quick if you don't sort things out. She strikes me as the type who won't hang around waiting for you to call."

"Yeah, she's just not that into me," I mutter bitterly.

"What?" he says in disbelief. "Of course she is! She was all upset when you hung up on her. She's head over heels, mate! But from what I've seen, she's stubborn. The two of you need your heads banging together. I told her that last night."

I pause and digest all of this.

"You really think she likes me?" I ask in a small voice.

"I'm telling you. It's the Disney prince hair," he affirms.

"Wh - stop calling it Disney prince hair!" I whine, and he cackles.

"She's in love with you, whether she'll admit it to herself or not. Even her mate agreed with me, and you know women - they know fucking everything."

My heart is thudding again.

"So you think I should call her?"

"For fuck's sake - YES!" he says exasperatedly.

"OK, OK," I  say hastily. "I will."

I think for a moment. 

"You don't think she'll really go for this Adam guy do you?"

"Not if you get in there first," he advises. "Just have an honest conversation with her. Without yelling," he adds.

"OK," I nod. "OK, I will."

After we've hung up I fanny around for a bit and then realise it's getting late in the UK and I need to get a move on. I take a deep breath and call her, my stomach fluttering as it rings.

A guy answers.

"Hello?"

Oh fuck - is this her brother again? I don't fancy another ear-bashing.

"Hello?" the voice says again, and it doesn't sound like her brother. Who the fuck is answering her phone?

"Hi - is Jess there?" I ask, and then I lose my cool. "Who is this?" I demand.

There's a pause. 

"My name's Adam," the voice replies. "She left her phone here last night, can you let her know?"

My blood is pounding in my ears.

She hooked up with Adam. She fucking hooked up with someone else, right after she spoke to me.

So much for her never having one night stands.

"You fucking prick!" I hiss, and I hang up the phone and lob it across the room.