Perilous (Harry Styles)

chapter 7

“With a secret like that, at some point the secret itself becomes irrelevant. The fact that you kept it does not.”

― Sara Gruen, Water for Elephants

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“You did not!“ Lisa exclaimed in amusement, slapping her knees repeatedly.

I hid my face in my hands. “I didn’t mean to! I just panicked and closed the trunk.”

Lisa couldn’t stop laughing after I had told her to story about Harry’s little trunk adventure in London. Apparently it was the most hilarious thing ever that I have done to someone else.

“When are your parents gonna leave for Egypt?” Lisa asked, abruptly changing the topic.

“I think in ten days or something like that,” I shrugged, reapplying my make-up. Thanks to the sun it was smeared over.

“Then you and Harry can practice playing husband and wife!” Lisa’s voice had a happy, chirpy tone to it.

I threw the next best thing that I could find at her – which turned out to be my Law & History book. It landed next to Lisa’s feet and she kicked it away as if it was toxic.

“Ew, reminds me of Mr. Sanderson,” she remarked. “Did you know that when mating, the male octopus tears off his arm, like, the one that's also a penis, places it in the female, and then swims off to die?”

I looked at her in bewilderment and repeated her words in my head. Nope, I still didn’t have any clue what she was talking about. “You know, you should get his phone number and just text him your facts.”

“I’m sure he misses me,” Lisa joked, throwing a decorative pillow in the air and catching it, just to throw it up again.

“Definitely. But I bet Mason misses you more.” My remark earned me a deep groan from Lisa. The pillow hit the back of my head, causing me to smear mascara all around my eyes and across my cheek. “Lisa!”

“I’m not even sorry,” she said nonchalantly.

I removed the mascara stains and finished the rest of my make-up. Hopefully I didn’t look like a clown, the light in my bathroom was far better than the one in my bedroom.

“Let’s go shopping,” Lisa yelled from behind me, flipping through a magazine.

“No, I’m broke.” I’ve spent way too much money in Paris, London and Manchester (although Harry tried to pay for most of the things in England, I denied his offer – or rather plea).

“We need another spa weekend,” Lisa urged. She held her hands in front of her eyes, examining every inch of her skin.

“True, but that won’t help me get more money,” I sighed.

“Then get a job,” she suggested.

“Says the right one,” I shot back. I doubted Lisa could toss around money either.

Lisa was silent for a moment. “Yeah, right,” she finally murmured.

I was more than happy that Lisa surprisingly had visited me this morning. I came back in the afternoon yesterday and immediately went to bed. A long and much needed sleep later, I woke up to my best friend standing next to my bed.

We had a lot of catching up to do. Apparently ‘sister before mister’ meant a lot to Lisa, but I would stick to my promise that I made months ago; I would not ditch her.

I was just about to get us some food from the kitchen, when the ringing of my phone made me turn around. Lisa grabbed my phone before I could even get near it and answered after quickly peeking who called. “Hi Harry.”