After (The After Series)

Pretty Little Liars and we end up falling asleep on the couch pretty quickly.
I wake up sweating in the middle of the night. Lifting myself off Hardin, I
peel off the sweatshirt and go over to turn the heat down when a small blue light
blinking on Hardin’s phone piques my curiosity. I pick the phone up off the
counter and swipe my finger across. Three new messages.
Put the phone down, Tessa.
I have no reason to go through his phone; that’s insane. I set it down and walk
back toward the couch, only to be stopped by the vibration of another text
message arriving.
Just one. I will only glance at one. That’s not so crazy, right? I know it’s
insane to be looking through Hardin’s messages, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
Call me back dick,
the message reads. Jace’s name covers the top of the small
screen.
Yup, reading that was a terrible idea. It didn’t get me anywhere at all, and now
I feel guilty for going through Hardin’s phone like a crazy person . . . but why is
Jace texting Hardin, anyway?
“Tessa?” Hardin’s voice croaks, causing me to jump, and the phone slips out
of my grasp. It falls to the floor with a crack.
“What was that? What are you doing?” he asks through the dark room, the
only light being cast from the television.
“Your phone went off . . . and I grabbed it,” I half-lie and scramble on the
floor to pick up the phone. The screen now has a small crack along the side.
“And I cracked the screen,” I add.
He groans wearily. “Just come back to bed.”
I set the phone down and lie back on the couch with him. But I don’t fall
asleep for a long while.
THE NEXT MORNING,
I wake up to Hardin trying to move out from under me.
I shift against the back of the couch to let him get up, and he grabs his phone off
the counter before going to the bathroom. I hope he isn’t too pissed about me
breaking his screen. If I wouldn’t have been so nosy, this wouldn’t have
happened in the first place. I pull myself off the couch and make a pot of coffee.
Hardin’s proposal of going to England with him keeps running through my
mind. We have already progressed so quickly in our relationship by moving in
together at such a young age. Still, I would love to meet his mother and see
England with Hardin.
“Deep in thought?” Hardin’s voice interrupts me as he comes into the kitchen.
“No . . . well, sort of.” I laugh.

---

“About?”
“Christmas.”
“What about it? You can’t figure out what to get me?”
“I think I’m going to call my mother and see if she would have even invited
me for Christmas. I feel bad not at least seeing first, you know. She will be
alone.”
He doesn’t look thrilled, but he stays calm. “I understand.”
“I’m sorry about your phone.”
“It’s fine,” he says and sits at the kitchen table.
But then I blurt out, “I read a text message from Jace.” I don’t want to hide
things from him, no matter how embarrassing the confessions are.
“You what?”
“It vibrated and I looked at it. Why was he texting so late, anyway?”
“What did you read?” he asks, ignoring my question.
“A text from Jace,” I repeat.
His jaw clenches. “What did it say?”
“Just to call him back . . .” Why is he getting so worked up? I knew he
wouldn’t exactly be happy that I looked at his text message, but this is an
overreaction.
“That’s it?” he snaps, which starts to get me annoyed.
“Yes, Hardin—what else would it have said?”
“Nothing . . .” He takes a slow sip of coffee, like it’s all suddenly no big deal.
“I just don’t like you going through my stuff.”
“Okay, well, I won’t do it again.”
“Good. I have a few things to do today, so can you keep yourself busy for a
while?”
“What do you have to do?” I ask and instantly regret it.
“Jesus, Tessa,” he says loudly. “Why are you always on my case!”
“I’m not always on your case. I just wanted to know what you were doing. We
are in a relationship, Hardin—a pretty serious one, at that—so why wouldn’t I
ask where you’re going?”
He pushes his mug away and stands up. “You just don’t know when to let shit
go, is your problem. I don’t have to tell you everything, whether we are living
together or not! If I would have known you were going to start shit with me
today, I would have left before you even woke up.”
“Wow” is all I can say before I storm off to the bedroom.
But he’s hot on my heels. “Wow what?”
“I should have known that yesterday was too good to be true.”
“Excuse me?” he scoffs.

---

“We had such a great time; you weren’t an asshole, for once, but you wake up
today and bam! You’re back to being a jerk!” I scramble around the room
picking up Hardin’s dirty clothes.
“You forgot the part where you went through my phone.”
“Okay, and I am sorry for doing that, but it’s honestly not that big of a deal. If
there is something on there that you don’t want me to see, then there is a bigger
problem here!” I yell and shove everything into the hamper.
He points an angry finger at me. “No, Tessa, you’re the problem. You’re
always making something out of nothing!”
“Why did you fight Zed?” I counter.
“We aren’t doing this right now,” he says in a cool tone.
“Then when, Hardin? Why won’t you tell me? How am I supposed to trust
you if you are keeping things from me? Does this have to do with Jace?” I ask
and his nostrils flare.
He runs his hands over his face and then up through his hair, leaving it
sticking straight up. “I don’t know why you can never just mind your own damn
business,” he grumbles and walks off.
Seconds later I hear the front door slam and I wipe the angry tears from my
cheeks. Hardin’s reaction to me asking about Jace is gnawing at my stomach the
entire time I clean the apartment. He overreacted; there is something he isn’t
telling me, and I don’t understand why. I am fairly certain it has nothing to do
with me, but it just doesn’t make sense why Hardin got so worked up. I have
known since the moment I met Jace that he was trouble. If Hardin isn’t going to
give me answers, I will have to go another route. I look out the window and
watch as Hardin’s car pulls out of the parking lot before grabbing my phone. My
new source answers on the first ring.
“Zed? It’s Tessa,” I say.
“Yeah . . . I know.”
“Okay . . . well, I was wondering if I could ask you something?” My voice
comes out smaller than I intended it to.
“Um . . . where is Hardin?” he asks, and, given his tone, I suspect he holds a
small grudge against me for blowing him off after he was so kind to me.
“He isn’t here.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea—”
“Why did Hardin fight you?” I ask before he finishes.
“I’m sorry, Tessa, I gotta go,” he says and the call ends.