Here’s all my fics in one place, I’ll add to it as I write (if I remember lol) and pin this so it’s easy to find. Thanks for reading <;3
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🎼 Wish You Were Sober
🎼 Lookalike / Pt 2
🎼 Josslyn / Pt 2
🎼 Sorry x Rare .
🎼 What are you Listening To?
🎼 Golf on TV
🎼 Echoes of the Night we Met
🎼 The Golden Years
• Bus Girl (T Holland)
☁️Good Luck Charm
☁️Collaboration
☁️Seaside Surprise
☁️ Stormy Night
☁️ Ocean Painting
☁️ The Same Page
☁️ Winner’s Choice
☁️ Crystal Clear
☁️ DWD One-Shot
☁️ School Photos
• Shedding Memories
• Things to Learn (WIP)
Popular/mean girl!YN and Nerd!Harry fic
• Invisible Load
Harry always gets on your nerves, and reminds you of the past you’re trying to move on from. Unfortunately, you’re stuck on holiday together.
• Office Hookup
You do the thing you said you’d never do & now have to live with the consequence of hooking up w the person you work under (Office!Harry)
• Three’s Company
You and Harry are BFFs but you’re also dating his best friend. When he confesses a secret, it changes the trajectory of your friendship.
• If you Love Something (2 Pt + One-shots)
You and Harry had a brief but intense relationship as teenagers, and were forced to make a tough decision then. It's aftereffects linger for the rest of your lives.
• Hot Waters (2 Pt)
You’re a manager at a posh hotel & 1 troublesome guest ends up being a Mr. Styles
• A June Love Story/Pt 2/Epilogue
A series of Junes that span your life and Harry’s. Each June gives a glimpse into where the two of you are in your separate lives, and the intertwining that becomes inevitable.
• Nuclear Family (5 Pt + Epi + Christmas Extra)
Dad!Harry in which you’re separated but have a kid together. You’re forced to live w him when you visit London over the summer so your daughter can spend time with him, it makes life messy, and confusing emotions arise.
• Plus a Little Extra (4 Pt)
YA!Harry’s your best friend but when he gets a new girlfriend you realize that maybe he’s more than your best friend to you. The question is whether things can ever go back to normal…
• Bad Timing (4.5 Pts)
After a traumatic event at your place of work, your ex-husband Detective!Harry is back in your life. U don’t know which’s more traumatic lol
• Chapters (7.5 Pts)
You’re a single mother out w your kid when you bump into your ex Harry, there’s a complicated history + a secret you hold tightly and everything unravels as your paths collide again.
• Endgame (3 Pts)
The new guy at work hates you at first sight and you’re miserable now that you have to work with him. Little do you realize the two of you might actually share a pretty complicated past.
• Single Solidarity (2 Pt)
Harry and you are best friends, the two single people in your group of friends. Things start to change however when you get a boyfriend.
• The Ex-Text (3 Pts)
You know Harry as the stranger who texted you to tell you your boyfriend was cheating on you, with his (ex) gf. When the two of you are invited to their wedding, you decide to go together. Except things aren’t as they seem.
• Impossibly Real (2 Pts)
You live next door to Harry, and never saw him much more than a neighbour while you lived your own lives and tried to make something out of your dating life. But after a particularly rough date, Harry helps you back on your feet...
• Red Rose (2/WIP)
Unfinished WIP: dipping into the fantasy genre; on a bad night you wander into a pub open late at night but the pub’s patrons are not what they look. A handsome guy helps you out and the night sets off a chain of events that even fate couldn’t stop.
WTF YALL SOMEONE JUST POINTED OUT TO ME I POSTED THINGS TO LEARN IN JAN 2023!?!! ITS GOING TO BE NEARLY TWO YEARS!?!? AND ITS NOT EVEN DONE OML I AM THE WORST—WORKING ON IT ASAP!!!!!!!!!
A/N + Request: harry styles meet cute! this is a really old request and i must have accidentally cleared it out between seeing it and half-drafting this fic. Don’t remember exact words but something about a cute run-in. Idk if this is the definition of cute necessarily but def a run-in and finally finished (:
Word Count: 3.6k
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If life followed cartoon rules, and steam really could hiss out from your ears, Harry suspected he’d out-smoke even his third cigarette.
He’s huddled under the small awning beside the restaurant he worked in. A few feet away sheets of rain come down in a sudden and chaotic curtain and it feels right watching it from there—like everything he was feeling inside breaking loose out there; his inner turmoil hitting the darkened pavement.
“Fuck,” he swears under his breath again. He knew this was one of those things that would stick—like his girlfriend bailing on him for Thailand last year, like his best friend eloping and never telling him until after the honeymoon, like in year 6 when he was always the last sorry fucker for any group activity.
Sometimes it felt like he carried so many moments like these around. Weighed down by all the ways people—and life, have betrayed him.
“Fuck them,” he says on his next exhale. And like a strange manifestation a woman suddenly appears in front of the building a few doors down and screams into the rain:
“Fuck!”
A flicker of a smile ghosts his face. Until she turns and lifts her flimsy jacket, actually stepping out into the downpour.
She’s still swearing as she crosses the next two buildings, and by the time she notices him tucked safely under the small awning she’s already hopping the concrete block beside him, taking shelter without asking.
They eye one another for a moment, it’s like she’s waiting for him to kick her out.
Her hair is plastered to her face, mascara leaving inky streaks down her face and her mouth is an angry pink streak against splotchy skin.
She looks away before he can take in any more
Harry continues smoking. She looks so much like how he was feeling it almost seemed to him the universe was telling him he was right to feel this way—offering up omens reflecting the state of his heart. He would let her stay here as long as she needed. She looked like she needed it.
Upon stubbing out his third cigarette and trying to light a fourth against the blowing wind, she turns sharply and glares at him. Her hair is pulled back now into a clip, face wiped but flecks of mascara still remain and her eyes are still tinged pink. Evidence of whatever happened before the rain.
Harry holds the pack out to her—he should have offered. But she looks offended that he would even do something like that.
He shrugs and puts it away, their eyes lock again and her anger and righteousness bleed out into a tired, haunted look.
Harry puts his cigarette offer down, tucks his 4th back into the box. Three was enough. He’d been trying to quit all month anyway.
“Rough night?” Harry asks, his voice raw from shouting earlier.
Her eyes flicker back to his face and she gives a short nod. Clears her throat. “Best night ever.”
Sarcasm, Harry notes. Of course she used sarcasm as a defence.
“Same here. Rain was just the cherry on top.”
“So that’s a celebratory chain smoke then?” She turns to him now rather than peering over her shoulder. Harry gets a full sense of her—under her green trench coat was a white jumper and animal-print jeans. She has an ipad tucked into the waistband of those jeans. What the hell?
She notices his eyes on it, pulling her coat over it.
“Uh,” Harry scratches his forehead. “Yeah. Yeah.”
She sighs and steps right up beside him, leaning against the remaining bit of wall. Harry shifts closer to the door to give her space.
“Fuckin’ hell.” She sighs. “Sorry.”
“No that’s alright.” Harry can’t help the smile tugging at his lips; he liked her sailor’s mouth.
“No I-I’m genuinely trying to stop swearing so much. My mum says it makes me crass and unladylike.”
“Yeah? I’m trying to quit too.“
“How’s that going?”
“Fucking great.”
She laughs and Harry feels a warmth break through in the centre of his chest. She was one of those people that laughed outwardly—throwing their head back without a care rather than lean inwards. Harry liked her laugh.
“So,” he says when she shakes her head and quiets down, leaning back to the wall. “What’s your story.”
“What’s my-“ she wipes under her eyes.
“Oh,” Harry grabs the apron hanging off his shoulder and offers it to her.
“Really?”
“Yeah, go on.”
She hesitates before patting her face down, her hair, down her neck. Harry looks away.
“Harry?” She says his name.
How did she—
Right, his name embroidered in white on the bottom of his apron. He watches her rubs her thumb across the stitching—his girlfriend used to do that for him on all his aprons. This must be one of his old ones.
His heart twists.
“That’s me.”
“YN.”
“YN,” Harry tests her name in his mouth.
“That’s me.” Her eyes flash as she echoes his words and this time he chuckles, surprised at how easy it comes.
“My ex lives in that building,” she points. “We broke up a few weeks ago. Pretty sure he was banging his coworker, the bitch.”
“Were you…picking your stuff up?” Harry glances down where the ipad is tucked away.
“Not really, that’s all dealt with. He wanted to talk? I feel like an idiot.”
They were strangers but Harry felt like he should offer a comforting hand to her shoulder or something. Maybe words. He doesn’t know what to do, so he waits. She fills the silence eventually.
“He’s been trying to get back with me. I-I don’t know why I came. One foot in that place and I could smell her. He must still be seeing her, her perfume was bloody everywhere. I exploded—confronted him about everything. I was right all along. I, god I feel like a tool.”
“You’re not.” The words come out of him fast, like flipping a burning steak off the heat without thinking. “He is.”
She looks up at him, nods. “He is. Yeah! He is.”
“Exactly.”
“I think…I just wanted to see him one last time. Make sure I made the right decision? We’d been dating for…god like 3 years? I figured out the whole affair thing but it took me a couple months to work up to breaking up with him.”
“It’s hard,” Harry’s hands itch for another cigarette but he shoves them into his armpits, crosses his arms. “They become your life, it’s all like…ingredients in a bowl. Hard to pick them out once they’re in.”
“Yeah,” she whispers.
“I mean I guess even if you manage to pick them out they’re not the same pure ingredients you put in in the first place. You’re changed no matter what…”
He trails off realizing he was getting too into it. She was just a stranger sharing a dry place, he didn’t need to dump his baggage on her.
“That’s very…”
“Stupid?” Harry offers. “Sorry-“
“No!” She stops him. “Not stupid at all. That’s actually a really good metaphor for it. I think I just feel changed, and think that means I need to go back to find the pure version of myself that began the whole relationship but…that’s not possible.”
“And you won’t find her there.” Harry motions with his chin to the building, obscured by the downpour.
“No.” She stands taller. “I won’t. Actually-“
What she was going to say is cut off when the door beside them creaks open and Harry moves out of the way. A head pokes out—one of the line chefs. His eyes widen when he sees Harry out here, they flicker to YN and back to Harry.
“Oh Harry you’re still here?”
“And what?” Harry doesn’t mean to sound so rude to Rick but he doesn’t want Rick going in and talking about seeing him out here.
“A-are you coming back in?”
“I don’t know.” Harry and him hold intense eye contact for a minute before Rick backs down.
“I’ll…okay.”
Rick rushes back inside.
Harry feels YN’s eyes on him.
“What were you celebrating again?”
Harry laughs but it’s not one of humour, he needs it to release some of the tensioned re-coiled after seeing Rick’s face. For a moment hearing YN’s problems he’d forgotten about his own baggage. A brief moment.
YN eyes him wearily.
“I guess I owe you that. Uhm, I’ve been a chef here for like, over 4 years now yeah? That’s, it’s a fucking lifetime.”
“Mhm,” she follows.
“And with the head chef leaving I was so sure—so fucking sure—his position was mine. The head chef and me we…we had a good relationship and he basically promised it to me before he left last week.”
“I get the feeling this story doesn’t end up with you getting head chef.” YN crosses her arms, a protectiveness bristling in her posture.
“Yeah. Bossman comes in today with some fucking prick too posh and skinny to belong in any kitchen. Wouldn’t last a fucking day. All of us are making fun of him right? Then we get told—we’re looking at the new head chef.”
“Well who the fuck’s he?” YN asks. Harry liked the way she seemed wholly invested in his story, her emotions rising to his own.
“His fucking nephew.”
“What the fuck?” Her eyebrows shoot up. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah!” Harry exhales long and slow, imagining it was cigarette smoke. “Yep! The whole kitchen’s fuming right now but I-I couldn’t hold it in. All these guys have shit on the line they can’t afford being fired but me? I didn’t care. Because I’m not sticking around here any longer if I got cheated out by a-by a fucking—“
“Nepo baby.” YN provides.
“Yes!” Harry remembers the word tucked into the back of his mind. “A fucking nepo baby! I have close to a decade’s worth of work on him!”
“I’d be seeing red if that happened to me.”
“Oh why do you think I’m out here.” Harry looks back at her. With the mascara off her cheeks he sees the faint flush either from the rain or from their swapping of stories. “I got sent out here to ‘cool off’.”
“Fuck cooling off, if that nepo baby can’t handle your heat what the fuck is he doing in the bloody kitchen?”
“Right!” Harry exclaims.
She feels so alive, he thinks. He can’t remember the last time he was this open. This unburdened.
For so long it was about keeping your head down and doing the work, be berated by whatever chef you worked under and doing the work. It got him to where he was—sous-chef. But he was tired of keeping it in for the sake of hope, the promise of making head chef. He loved the kitchen—personalities and the quirks of everyone, but he was tired of everything else. Tired of being betrayed and being last and carrying everything around.
“My advice?” YN turns so that she’s leaning on her shoulder. Harry mirrors her without realizing. Behind her the rain starts to let up a little, the clouds deciding they had raged enough and the tantrum could turn into a sulk.
“Would love to hear it stranger,” Harry’s mouth pulls up into a tired smile.
She narrows her eyes for a second like she was searching him for sarcasm but whatever she finds grants him a small crooked smile.
“Do not try to quit swearing now.”
He barks out a laugh, not expecting this piece of advice from her. But the warmth in him spreads, having nothing on the sulking winds.
“That’s solid advice actually.”
“Mhm,” she nods.
A ghost of a smile on both their faces, a second stretches into a few as they lock eyes and really see each other.
Harry felt like this whole time they were just waiting out the weather together. But now it was shifting into something different. After all, the rain’s gone soft enough that a jacket could get either of them back. But neither move.
“So are you deciding whether to go back in or quit?” YN asks him.
“Uhm,” Harry thinks. “I think I’ve made up my mind. But I have to go in either way, collect my stuff.”
“Do chefs not have to give 2 weeks or something?”
“Fuck that.”
“Yeah, fuck that.” YN smiles softly.
Harry’s so warm now he’s pretty sure if he wrapped his arms around this soaking woman in front of him he would dry her up in no time. She had somehow turned his nightmare of a day into a dream.
“Thank you,” Harry says—and he means it. There’s a lot he isn’t saying aloud, but somehow she seems to hear all of it anyway. Harry suspects she was good at that kind of thing, maybe unless it had to do with an ex.
YN nods in understanding. “Yeah. Thank you for sharing your shelter.”
“S’not much,” Harry replies. He reaches up, tall enough to do so, and flicks the centre of the vinyl awning. A little pool of rainwater tips over the side, splashing down. Both of them share a quiet laugh.
“My ex and I used to come here all the time,” YN says, rolling her eyes at herself. “It’s good you’re leaving—means the food will get worse. Then when he brings that bitch here, they can’t have a nice time.”
Harry doesn’t know whether to laugh or to offer comfort. He hesitates a second too long, so when she looks up at him through her lashes, something catches in his throat.
“Too much?” she asks.
“No. No, not too much,” he says quickly. “If you want actually I can stick around long enough to serve them a guaranteed shite meal and then quit.”
This gets another open laugh from her—so much more rewarding than her humoured smiles.
“That is actually…” YN’s cheeks take on some colour , softening her whole face. “Very kind of you, sir. But go on—make the break now.”
Harry huffs out a breath that’s half-laugh, “sort of mad all of this.”
“Yeah?”
“I was just at my boiling point—having the worst day I’ve had in a while. Gray storm clouds and all.”
“Same.” YN agrees. “Our moods combined must have manifested this weather.”
“Maybe.” Harry eyes her, unsure how his next line was going to go. “But you were like sunshine in streaky mascara to my rainclouds.”
Her back straightens and he would have laughed at the dirty side-eye she gives him if she wasn’t actually intimidating.
When she speaks next it’s the most random question: “Harry, what’s the stinkiest cheese you’ve ever worked with?”
“I dunno, uh…Taleggio maybe?” Harry crosses his arms.
“What you just said was cheesy as fuck, like Taleggio.”
And he’s barking out a laugh again, constantly surprised at the quiet and unexpected way YN was funny.
“I’ll take that as a compliment because when you eat it it’s actually quite-“
“No no,” she puts her hand up to shush him. “No chef expertise to twist that into something good.”
“So you’re saying I wasn’t a spot of sunshine to your day today?”
She sighs like it pains her to be this cheesy. “If sunshine had to like, really penetrate through secondhand smoke.”
“Ah right,” he grins catching her meaning. In a moment of giddiness, of feeling light as fuck, he takes his pack of cigarettes and chucks it across the small lot. It hits the brick wall of the building opposite.
“Fuck those.” He turns to her with a grin but she’s looking at the soggy box with a shocked expression.
“W-what-why’d you do that?!” She asks.
Harry shrugs, feeling like the warmth was definitely going to come bursting out of him. Like if somebody opened him like an oven all of his heat would burst out, scalding and warm.
“I’ve been trying to quit anyway.”
“God,” YN pinches her nose. “You’re…you’re crazy.”
“Crazy dedicated,” Harry feels his humoured nature seep back in. “To quitting.”
YN admits defeat with a sigh. She bumps her shoulder into his, “Well here’s to quitting.”
Harry nudges her shoulder back, his eyes on the side of her face. “Here’s to fucking quitting.”
He punctuates his words with the F-word on purpose because he knows YN will get it. She looks at him on cue and they share the smile of an inside joke.
For a second they just stand there, sharing the quiet like they’ve known each other longer than a rainstorm.
A car hisses past on the wet road and the only rain falling now is the leftover drops sloping down roofs and windowsills. The air smells like cold pavement and whatever prep was happening inside. For a moment Harry’s chest squeezes because he was outside of that place not just physically but emotionally now. He knew stepping back inside meant that for the last time, he wasn’t going to be part of this family anymore.
YN glances down while his mind reaches acceptance, lifting something between them.
His apron, bunched in her hands—he’d forgotten he gave it to her, forgotten it wasn’t on him.
“Should return this,” she says, offering it out with a little smile.
“Oh—right.” Harry takes it, fingers brushing hers for a moment that feels like it will last long in his mind. “Didn’t even notice you still had it.”
“I know,” her eyes flick up to his with that same reserved warmth. “But the rain’s finally stopped.”
As if on cue, the silence around them stretches open, no longer filled with the constant drum of water or car tires brushing through the rain.
She steps back a little, creating space like this moment was finally ending but she wasn’t ready to let it go entirely. It was weird because Harry didn’t want to let go either.
“Guess that means I should go,” YN says, tucking a loose still-wet strand of hair behind her ear. “Get on with life.”
But she doesn’t move.
Harry swallows, suddenly aware of how quiet it was without the roar of rain, how he can hear the low murmur of the kitchen coming from an open window somewhere. “Yeah. And I should go uhm, quit.”
Her smile is small but encouraging. “Go on then.”
He didn’t want to go if it meant leaving ber. Harry shifts his apron over his shoulder. “Maybe I’ll…see you around?”
“Yeah sure. If it’s meant to be,” she says, her lips curling into something coy.
“Meant to be?”
“London’s pretty big, is it not?”
“Feels small to me.”
“Then we’ll bump into each other a few times,” she says so smoothly, and there’s something so vulnerable about it he almost forgets to breathe. She covers it up with a joke, “you know. If I catch a whiff of Tagellio I’ll know how to find you.”
“Taleggio,” Harry grins as he corrects her. It was cute.
She wrinkles her nose like she’s smelled it, “Yeah that.”
“Probably shouldn’t though. A smell that bad…”
“In London…”
“Yeah,” both of them say with a crack of a smile. “Best not.”
“Wish me luck then.” Harry says finally.
And then because staying would mean doing something more reckless than quitting his job without another, Harry nods, turns, and heads inside. He hears the faint good luck behind.
The restaurant’s lobby feels colder. Voices echo from the kitchen, familiar voices and easy banter flowing as everyone preps for the opening hours. This was it, this was the end.
Harry walks further in, glimpsing the front window, and out of habit glances sideways.
YN. She walks down the wet pavement, hair still damp, adjusting her jacket around her while holding the iPad. He never did figure out why it was tucked into her jeans.
Then it hits him—he was a complete idiot.
If it’s meant to be.
London’s a big place.
Fuck! He was supposed to get her number!
Harry pivots so fast and rushes out, the hostess startles when he barrels past her. He hears her call his name but he’s already bursting through the front doors, nearly tripping on his way to her.
“YN!”
She pauses before turning with squinted eyes. They widen when they see him, “You already told them!?”
“No!” Harry pants, laughing and breathless as he walks up to her. “I just—I needed your number. Before you…were lost to London’s streets
Her shoulders relax, a grin breaking through; he had put her puzzle pieces in the right places. “Oh! Alright. Sure. You can have my number.”
“Perfect,” he steps closer into the rain-damp air between them and hands his phone over.
He watches her type it in, finding it hard to believe this was something that was going to happen. That this day didn’t end up shitty because of her.
“There’s a saying,” he says without thinking. Maybe because he wasn’t sure he would have the balls to call her later or tell her how much she’s helped him today. She looks up at him waiting for him to continue. “Uh. It goes something like, the same water that hardens the egg softens the pasta.”
She raises a brow.
“I thought today’s boiling water would’ve hardened the egg. But…”
Her eyebrow comes down, eyes softening as she understands what he’s not saying.
“Me too Harry. Now I’ve got a bowl of cooked pasta.” She smiles.
“Good. Pasta’s good.” Harry feels good that she got the same thing out of their conversation as he did.
She huffs a laugh as she hands his phone back.
“Wait actually, are you free right now?” Harry asks as he realizes he could do whatever he wanted. “Because I am quitting right now. And then I’m doing fuck-all. I-I’d like to buy you a drink. Or tea. Or anything—just don’t disappear yet. Please.”
Her cheeks warm, “I won’t. Disappear.”
Harry exhales out everything weighing on his chest, he feels exhilarated and knows it has nothing to do with quitting.
“Good. Grand. Give me a few minutes to throw my career in the bin and get my knives.”
“Everything a modern girl wants.” She says and it’s one of those unexpected jokes Harry pauses at.
He opens his mouth to respond but he doesn’t even know how, too many seconds passing for anything coming out of his mouth to even pass as returned banter.
“Go!!” She pushes him towards the door laughing, like she knows he’s trying to find words for something.
He walks backwards, trying to memorize the way everything looks in the moment. Feels. Right on the cusp: brave and confident, light and unburdened, a big question mark of a future but no fear…only excitement.
And for the first time all day, Harry walks inside the restaurant without the sinking dread. Without the weight that this would be another think that’ll stick forever.
Maybe the storm was a good omen. Maybe his boiling point had rearranged his molecules towards the right direction. Because now that the storm’s broke, he saw clearly that it had made room for a pretty promising fucking rainbow.
i recently found your series “bad timing” and have since become obsessed with your work! would you be interested in writing another au but in the medical field like doctor, paramedic, surgeon, etc?
Ah thank you!! It’s so funny you say this because after finishing the Pitt I’ve lowkey been thinking of a Pitt fic for agess but I’m just way too intimidated by the medical world. What sort of fic/dynamic would you want to see!?
It’s a shitty November day—most days in November were shitty. It’s like the month had given up on being anything, knowing it was after October’s foliage and before Christmas’ spirit. The trees are naked, the sky is consistently gray, and every class refuses to let up. Between assignments and mid-terms I’m struggling.
And for some godforsaken reason the one time I really need peace and quiet there’s chanting going on somewhere close enough on campus that I can’t concentrate in study hall.
Anger brews inside of me as I slam everything shut and stuff it into my tote. I would just go home and make myself a cup, change into something cozy, and get everything done there. Away from whatever craziness had descended this stupid campus.
I soon find out; the cheering is for team spirit—apparently for the first time our school’s football team was doing well enough to advance into something. Finals, semi-finals maybe? I didn’t know enough about this sport to know. And I was too stressed to care.
And of course it was a home game. Just my luck.
I’m stumbling my way through the crowd trying to move against the flow to get around the bend. When I finally get to where I can breakawag I stand on the patch of grass catching my breath while tears pool in my eyes. I blamed it on being tired and overstimulated and pms-ing.
I should sit, I think as I spy an empty bench. I’ll sit and let myself take a moment. Yes.
As soon as I drop the tote off my shoulder and take deep breaths, despite the buzzing crowd, I feel better. Marginally. Until I feel someone’s presence in front of me.
“Fancy seeing you in the flesh—you breaking any hearts lately?” The person asks. The person whose voice I would know anywhere. The person who could not be here.
I open my eyes and see him. Here indeed. The corners of his mouth tug up into that grin.
So we were playing it casual.
If that was the case, I take all those feelings—those things I could never actually say to him because what was the point—and stuff them into a box, locking it tight.
“Not exactly.” I return a small and hopefully casual smile and pray it doesn’t waver.
Leave it up to him to make a joke after all the baggage between us. A joke about my love life nonetheless.
The last time I heard from him was a drunken text earlier this month. We’d sort of drifted—no, that’s a lie. I’d slowly stopped texting him after one particular exchange where he thought he was in any position to make judgements about my dating life. Where he thought it was okay to act jealous and possessive over text when in person he hadn’t even tried fighting for us.
I could have handled it more maturely but knowing I wasn’t going back to our hometown in a while and my chances of actually bumping into him would be slim I’d let my anger get the better of me and just slowly stopped responding.
Oh he sure knew how to get under my skin, and it was already puckered after the day I’d been having.
But my body reacts to him physically in a way I wish I could control-lightheaded, heart pounding, sweaty, and like I just found out I had an exam tomorrow I never studied for.
He tilts his head to the side and asks, “Not exactly?”
“What exactly are you doing here?” I just notice he’s m wearing his school’s jumper.
“Really?” He motions to the crowd. “That’s not obvious.”
“Oh! We’re playing you?”
His face falls ever so slightly, “Yeah? You don’t…”
“Tune into that? Not particularly no. I have a friend who’s really into it so in first year I was going to games with her a lot. But I’m just…way too busy right now with work.”
I blab more than I need to, for some reason I feel guilty for letting him down. But then I feel angry that I feel guilty. Who was he to me? And if he could drunk text me he could have given me a heads up he would be here. That I could watch him play.
“Right on,” he nods. “That’s very you.”
“I was never a sports girlie.” I agree, refusing to play his game.
A spot of silence spreads out between us.
“So,” he finally sits and I stop craning my neck. “You said not really?”
“Huh?” I recall the conversation. Oh of course he was curious. “Well I’ve been avoiding this one guy I went on a date with a couple weeks ago.”
“Avoiding?” He perks up at the word.
“Yeah,” I say, dampening the flare in my chest. “I’ve just been so busy. Plus he kept talking about his secondary school girlfriend and how I was like her—I liked the free meal. I don’t know if I have time to like, date right now right now though?”
I force the words out and they feel prickly. I try to soften my tone again.
“And you?” I ask, like there weren’t unanswered texts burning a hole in my phone right now. “Carelessly handling any hearts lately?”
He laughs and I hate the way my heart stutters at the sound. “You think I still do that?”
The moment those words leave his mouth, we lock eyes. There’s something about the way he says it that hits a nerve. Maybe the fact that he continued to be a living heartbreak I’ve had to bury alive.
It feels like we’re lightyears away again. That vulnerability we built that summer feels nonexistent like he’s hiding behind a facade again.
I raise a questioning brow, suddenly not as amused.
He gets the hint, “Ah, not really. Recently uh…ended things with someone. There is a girl from my business class. But I don’t know if she’s even into me like that, plus I’m thinking of quitting football—”
“What? Why?” I cut him off, my voice sharper than I intended. “Y-your team made it to the finals or whatever yeah? And you love it.”
“Yeah,” he says, shrugging, his eyes avoiding mine for a second. “Well I’d be quitting after this season. I barely made it out now. They want me to change positions, and—”
“Are you still playing defense?” I ask, genuinely confused, trying to steer the conversation back to something I can break down. “Har, you’re a phenomenal forward. You’ve always been.”
“Yeah but with all my work, and it being third year, and being moved to play forward has this pressure—”
I scoff, the sound loud and abrupt. I can’t help it though! The frustration bubbles up in me like a pot about to boil over; there’s no stopping it.
“What!?” He snaps.
And there it is, I think. The facade is cracking.
“You always do this.” My voice comes out hard just like his facade cracking, my anger crackles.
“What? Quit football?!”
“Don’t play dumb,” I kiss my teeth. “You never—you never commit to anything!”
“This is about football?” He folds his arms.
“Yes! You’re always so…so scared of setting expectations, or disappointing people. Like look at you—you can’t even try this about football which is something you love, and you’re very good at, just because there’s a new expectation. I just…ugh! Nevermind!”
The words hang in the air between us, hanging heavier with each passing second. He stares at me, caught off guard by my sudden outburst. I’m angry, sure, but the hurt is more present now. The frustration doesn’t just come from football—it’s everything. It’s him, it’s how I feel shut out. It’s how we came close to something deep but we always stay at arm’s length.
He stands and shakes his head, almost laughing, but it’s not amused. “Are you seriously yelling at me about football right now?” His voice is incredulous, but I see something else flicker in his eyes. “That’s what this is about? You’re pissed off about me not wanting to play forward?”
With all the emotions coursing through my body I stand up too. Suddenly exhausted, my chest tightens with everything I’ve been holding back, everything I haven’t said since that summer, since the goodbye that we didn’t really say.
“Fine. You think I care this much about football?” I bite back, my voice too loud, too sharp. A part of me is aware there are people walking by—people I probably go to class with, but I’m too fired up. “I care that you keep running. You never commit to anything when you get too close. You can’t even make a decision about your life, your future! So no, it’s not just about football. It’s about everything. You joke, you back off, then you leave. Like—like with us-“
My momentum carries me into somewhere I didn’t intend to go.
He stops. The tension in his face shifts, his usual cool-and-casual demeanor faltering as he processes my words. He opens his mouth to speak, but then pauses, like he’s weighing the response carefully.
“You think I don’t want to commit to anything? Or to…us?” His voice is quieter now, less defensive. “What gave you that impression YN? I kept reaching out, you stopped! And I only gave you what you asked that summer—you really think-“
I look away, not wanting him to see how much that cuts. Because I know that if it’s not about commitment it’s about timing. And what the hell could I do about timing if it’s too late for us now?
“I’m just saying you don’t commit to anything. To anyone.” I soften my voice but its still laced with hurt. “You’re still the same Harry you were in high school, avoiding anything that feels like it matters.”
The words sting as they leave my mouth because I know I’m hurt and being a dick and I want his reassurance or something so that I didn’t feel so helpless. Like time was slipping away and something was trying to climb out of me.
The silence after my words is thick. For a long moment, neither of us speaks. I can see him processing everything, and there’s no usual deflection or joke. It’s a raw silence I’m not ready for.
He looks down, jaw clenched, his fingers rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t know you still felt that way. Still saw me like that.”
The words hang there and for the first time, I see the weight of the years between us in his eyes. There’s no humour as a shield; he’s not deflecting with jokes. I see the vulnerability—the fear of saying something that might hurt too much. Because we had that ability—to hurt each other deeply, to leave scars.
I take a deep breath and for a moment, I almost wish I could take it all back. But it’s out now, and there’s nothing left to do but wait for the next move.
“Well. Maybe that’s the problem,” I murmur. “Maybe we’re just not ready for moving away from all that. Or to be what we need.”
“Y’know what? I don’t—I don’t get you.” He turns abruptly and walks a few paces away, frustration practically radiating from him. When he turns his face is anguished. “I-I don’t know if I ever will.”
“What?” I snap. “What about me don’t you get?”
“You’re the one that said we wouldn’t end well—that it couldn’t work beyond the summer!”
“I know! And I meant it but it’s not like you tried to fight me on it! You just accepted it! Because it worked out for you and your commitment issues!”
“And you would’ve done what, if I fought for it?” He doesn’t hesitate, locking eyes with me as he takes a step closer. “You fucking pulled away too! You keep blaming me but I was there—you pulled away too!”
“I did it because it’s you.”
“Because it’s me?” His voice breaks.
“Yeah.” Shut up shut up shut up. “I knew what kind of expectations to have when it comes to you.”
I see what my words do to him and I feel self-loathing creep in.
It takes him a second to respond and when he does his voice is low, controlled. there’s no trace of the usual playfulness I expect from him when he asks, “What do you want YN?”
A question I wasn’t prepared for, one I hadn’t even fully asked myself until now. His eyes pierce into me with that intensity I’ve only seen in rare, unguarded moments. There’s no hint of humour or that cheeky grin; it’s Harry as he is.
The air grows thick, and my heart races, a sudden pressure building in my chest. “What?” I manage, struggling to keep my voice steady. “W-we’re not talking about me.”
“We’re talking about me,” he says, his tone quiet but cutting. “So what do you want from me?”
For the first time, I’m not sure if I want to answer. He’s so serious now and it makes me feel small, like I’m standing in front of a stranger who somehow knows me better than I’d like. I want to fight the feeling, want to push away, but I’m tired of fighting against the pull between us.
And I don’t know how to answer.
I want something from him, but I can’t say it. Not now. Not when the bitterness of our words is so fresh, clouding everything. There’s no room for honesty in this conversation anymore.
So I do what I always do when the truth feels too close and the hurt too fresh.
I push him away.
“Nothing,” I say, the words flat. I hate myself the moment the word leaves my mouth. It’s a lie—a cheap shot, a desperate attempt to make this moment hurt him back. And I know it’s the cruelest thing I could say.
I watch his face fall. His eyes, once so full of that playful spark, are now darker. The smile he wore so easily is gone. His jaw tightens, a flicker of hurt, frustration, and confusion.
It makes something twist inside me, the tension making it hard to breathe, but it’s too late now. The words are out, and I can’t take them back no matter how many nights I’ll spend wishing I could.
With his eyes still locked onto me he asks in such a vulnerable tone, I almost go back on my word, “You really don’t want anything from me.”
There’s a finality in the way he looks—like we’re both staring at the rubble of something we never quite figured out how to build in the first place. I find I can’t speak at all.
He laughs, but it’s hollow. A quick, frustrated sound that breaks the silence.
“I get it,” he says, more to himself than to me. “I guess that’s the way things always go, right? We always end up like this—fighting, avoiding, ego and pride, pushing away just so we can convince ourselves it’s all…nothing.”
I flinch at his words, at the accusation, at the truth I’ve been avoiding. I don’t know how to answer him, how to fix this, how to make things right. The fact that he’s here saying these things back to me with the hurt so open on his face should be enough proof that he’s not the same Harry I’m accusing him of being but I don’t know how to back away.
“Yep,” I double down, even though my heart is screaming at me to stop. “Maybe we should just take the hint. That summer was just…”
It was the truest most tender thing but I think I was delusional that summer without my friends around, thinking the timing meant something.
“Yeah it was just a mistake. An anomaly—we were just bored or lost enough for it to work then.”
Manslaughter. Right in front of me. It hits harder than anything else he's said, and I can feel the weight of it press into me. But my pride keeps my chest from caving in.
“We don’t owe each other shit, Harry,” I spit, the words tasting bitter as they leave my mouth. “Forget I said anything! Quit football. Date as many girls as you want and leave broken hearts behind. Break your own heart! Figure your life out—it’s not like I’ll be around to hear any of it anyway.”
I expect him to lash out, to throw a joke or a snarky comment in my face. But he doesn’t. He just stands there and I hate the way he’s looking at me, like I’m the one who just broke the final string that held us together.Like I’ve become something unrecognizable.
And the worst part is somewhere deep down, I think I still want him to fight for us despite all the icy jabs and unforgivable accusations. Just once. I wanted him to prove me wrong.
But he doesn’t.
He just takes a slow breath in and out. His shoulders slump, and for the first time, he looks smaller than I’ve ever seen him. The cocky, untouchable Harry Styles—the guy who could charm anyone—just feels so human in that moment. And it’s almost worse than anything he could have said.
“Fine,” he says, his voice low, but not with anger. Something sadder. “Whatever you want, I guess.”
I watch him turn and walk away, into the weaning crowd heading towards the sports centre. Every step away is another lightyear between us. My chest aches. Every instinct in me wants to chase after him, to fix this, to make it stop. But my feet stay rooted to the ground.
The echo of our past hangs in the air like the quiet after a storm. There’s a finality that rings out and I know this is something I’ll always have to live with.
Maybe I had become unrecognizable.
•••
1.5 years later
•••
It was mum’s idea to have a graduation party. Which was surprising because growing up she wasn’t one for celebrating my wins in such a big way. Those kinds of celebrations were normally done at my grandparents’ home.
But she had recruited some of my friends’ parents and with Nan’s old home being empty between rentals they decided to host it there.
What’s meant to be surprise is spoiled when I overhear mum talking the week I’m back home, all of my uni junk in tow.
Mum never did know how to talk quietly.
I hadn’t been back home since Christmas where I’d only spent a few days before going with Rhia’s family on holiday for the New Year.
And even now, I would only spend part of the summer here before I moved on to the next chapter of my life: a job I’d landed in London.
“It starts at 2,” I hear mum telling dad over the phone. He was supposed to leave early today and join us for a late lunch with Nan. She was in town clearing out more of her storage. It was strange feeling sad about it but I did. Because it meant she really had no plans of coming back, but I also didn’t either. Not with a new life waiting for me in London.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Rhia: is there enough drinks? Mum’s actually being so chill about going for a drinks run rn
Y: i think so. We did say byob optional
R: and you think ppl will?
Y: we can run out if we need. think we’re alright
Juni: who is getting blackout first
I put my phone down and head to my room where my outfit hangs on my door. It’s a cherry red cotton dress because the summer meant bright colours. It’s simple going down to below my knees with a square neckline and thick straps, my favourite detail was the overlapping panels in the front creating butterfly-like wings that split open halfway so even though it went quite long it was still plenty airy. And it was a warm day so I’d need it.
I have a nervous excitement about who would be at the party, so many faces from so many eras of my life. And technically it was the first party that’s ever been thrown by me—at least in my hometown.
I also think of the person who wouldn’t be there. I didn’t even know if he was in town. Last I heard—or saw, from him was last summer. I’d passed by the town square and saw him having lunch with a girl. It wasn’t his sister and it looked intimate. Other than that I refused to know anything.
It was stupid because it wasn’t like we were in each other’s lives very long. But that final fight had felt like something was ripped from me. And mostly, in retrospect, knowing I was also the problem made me feel angry at myself.
In the end I was just as closed off as he could be.i demanded so much without saying any of it, without being vulnerable myself. And what’s worse is when he was being open it had scared me right back and I’d shut it down on just as many occasions as him.
It had been a hard pill to swallow—a lesson that came from a couple failed relationships the last few years. A part of me wonders if I set them up to fail because despite all this time Harry would always be in my system.
My phone buzzes again.
Rhia: Y if she sees someone from her past.
Juni: ded is he even in town
R: i know nothing about him
J: I should ask Dan
Y: I do NOT want to crash out at my own party.
Y: Not that he would make me crash out…
Y: can we not pursue this
J: babe we know u too well
R: juni let’s keep it on the dl
J: 😈
Y: i’m serious bitches!!!!!
I throw my phone down, my heart crawling up my chest at the idea of Harry being in town. Of bumping into him. Maybe I just hide at home the rest of summer.
What if he also moves to London—he went to school there after all. Odds are I could bump into him there too. The odds could be anywhere.
“I’m so not spiralling,” I tell myself. “Pull it together.”
***
Lunch with my family is a bit awkward but I fill the silence as Nan talks about my London plans and dad uses his phone to continue working. I can tell Mum’s fed up with him—since coming home this summer I’ve noticed a weird vibe with them but I choose not to poke the bear. I had enough on my plate.
“What do you think?” Nan asks dad.
“Hm?” He drags his eyes off his phone. “About?”
“What your daughter’s talking about? At her lunch, celebrating her graduation that you attended two weeks ago.”
“Mum,” dad sighs. “She was talking to you. YN what is it?”
“It’s nothing,” I didn’t want a family fight in public right now.
“It’s not.” Nan lowers her fork. “I don’t understand why you agreed to come if-“
“It’s alright,” Mum steps in. “Honey, can you just focus the rest of lunch?”
“Alright alright I’m putting this away,” dad tucks his phone off to the side.
Tense silence settles on the table.
“So what’s that about?” I decide to ask. “Busy at work?”
“Yeah just a client—you don’t want to hear the boring details. What were you telling Nan?”
I push through to fake enthusiasm as I retell my story. To do that I have to ignore Nan no longer eating and mum and her sharing a look. Something was going on for sure.
I ask Nan about it later.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
“I’m not worrying I just want to know.” I ask. I was driving us back home.
“Your dad’s just working a lot. More than usual. He’s been half himself, makes it more annoying than normal to be around.”
“That’s it?” I push.
“Yeah. Don’t fret about it love.”
She pats my arm and I stay focused on the road.
“I’m glad you’re here again.” I tell her for the hundredth time.
“Me too.” She sighs and it carries all the memories we’ve been reliving since she’s been back. “As hard as it’s been. I’m so glad to be here before you head away. Your life is going to get so much bigger.”
“Thanks Nan,” I park in front of her hotel. “Why don’t you show up even for a bit? At the party?”
“Oh no. I’m too old for that crowd.”
“Nonsense.” I tease. “You don’t look a day over 50.”
“Well!” She exclaims. “You’ll make a cougar out of me.”
We laugh and I kiss her goodbye.
“Your gramps,” she clutches my hand before letting go. “Would be so incredibly proud.“
“I know,” I smile although my vision grows blurry. “I wish he could have seen me grown up.”
“He knows. Where he is.”
We hug again, but it’s the kind of hug that holds each other up. When we get our strength again we pull back.
“Now go have some fun. Some youthful drunken fun. But be safe.”
“I’m celebrating in your old place,” I laugh. “It’s gonna be weird but it’s the safest place I know.”
She flashes a watery smile, and with one last pat she’s turning to go back into the hotel. I watch the concierge hold the door open for her, watch as she walks to the lifts. Then I get back in the car and drive home.
***
Mum’s grinning when I gasp at what she’s done to the backyard.
“Mum!” I turn to her. “When did you do all this?”
“Last week,” her smile is proud and something else. It’s her eyes, they look a little sad. “I’m good aren’t I?”
“Yeah I-“ i look at the fairy lights running over the expanse of the backyard. There are seats and pillows littered everywhere, a table of drinks and bites. The inside of the house is lit with warm lighting and stocked with even more. It looks nothing like my grandparents’ house and for that I’m kind of happy. “I can’t believe this. You didn’t have to go all out.”
“Oh of course I did,” she puts an arm around my waist. It was strange her being so touchy-feely lately. “For my baby of course I did.”
“Aw mum,” I put my arm around her. “What’s gotten you so soft?”
“Oh I dunno,” she dabs at her eyes. “This wee baby I held in my hands is now taller than me and all graduated and moving to the big city! She’s a woman. I don’t know when that happened.”
“And?” I push. “That’s all?”
“Yeah!” She looks around the backyard.
“You’re a shite liar mum.”
“Hey!” She turns back to me. “Excuse your language!”
“I thought I was a woman!”
“You’re still my baby.” She crosses her arms. I see myself reflected in her and a weird leaky feeling guts me.
“Mum.”
“What?! I had free time okay?”
“Mum.”
“Okay! I didn’t tell you this but I was laid off a few weeks ago. I have too much time to spare. Your dad told me I could just retire now—he’s working enough to support us a few times over but…I don’t know!”
“I’m sorry I wish you told me!” Suddenly everything makes sense.
“Not during your happy time. Plus we’re fine, nothing is wrong. It’s just the life crisis of an old woman.”
“Still. I want to hear it.”
“What’s the point.”
“Well I’ll be an old woman one day—I want to know these things before I get there.”
Mum gazes at me like she’s trying to find something, and when she sighs I can’t tell if she did or didn’t but it’s a sigh full of unspoken things. “You’re a good kid. I…”
She bites her lip. Oh god, I think as my eyes instantly prickle with tears, this was getting very emotional and so unlike us.
“Look,” I pivot. “Find a new job if you want. Even if it’s part time. Who cares if you don’t need it. If it’s what you want…”
“Yep,” mum rubs her arms and nods. “Yeah. I’ll think on it. Anyway let’s take the ice out the freezer and finish this up.”
I let her go knowing that was the end of her opening up, but the emotions sit heavy on my mind until Juni and Rhia trickle through the door and start talking a mile a minute. They distract me until mum leaves and even more friends join.
Dana comes with all sorts of mixers and sets up a station by the drinks, telling me she would make me a special cocktail. I tell her I’d be honoured—her latest summer job was at a pub one town over and she’s been more showy about her skills. I loved the confidence.
As the party descends into full swing it’s a really fun time. People bring plus ones and twos so after a while I don’t even bother checking in on them because I couldn’t tell who I knew or maybe forgotten.
I catch sight of Jusuf from the cinemas and we catch up on what we were doing after graduation. There’s so many people I know here tonight and it makes my heart full that they all showed up. Although in a town like this, I also know they’d show up for any excuse to party.
At one point I spot Rhia and Juni in an intense conversation and when I approach they quiet down and Juni changes the subject before I can ask.
I find out later why.
I’m putting a shovel away after needing it because someone accidentally got their hat stuck in a tree doing a fake graduation-toss and I feel someone walk up to me.
“Long time no see.”
I know who it is. I know it with my whole being. But my body can’t compute that he’s here. That after a million scene re-writes of our final time in my head, and a million more what-ifs if I saw him again, he’s here.
His voice is low, not the typical teasing tone as if he’s hesitant about where we stand.
“Hi.” I manage to make out lamely once I turn around. I wasn’t expecting this when I’d packed everything away neatly and he was just a character in my head.
“Hi,” this cracks a smile on his side which warms me to one.
I suddenly remember the time he surprised me that first summer at the cinemas, showing up in my line. He somehow always had the drop on me—tonight feels a little like that now except older and full of more regret.
“Guess we’re both still alive, huh?” I ask.
A chuckle slips out of him—awkward, like he's not sure how to be, if he should laugh. How did we get to this?
“Just barely on my end.”
I force a smile; I feel too much. But then again that was standard around him. “After getting that degree, yeah. Barely made it across the finish line.”
An itchy silence descends, neither of us knowing what to do. I had thought of so many things I’d say to him if I ever saw him again but none of them fit into this moment. That was life—you couldn’t really plan moments like these.
Yet every scene in my head started with me finally being the vulnerable one. So I try it.
“I didn’t think I’d see you. Here today.”
It catches his attention, he searches my face for my reaction as he asks, “Why’s that?”
I pause but the truth comes up too fast. “I thought you wouldn’t want to be here. Or come to a party I threw, see me. Basically I thought you moved on…from everything. Wouldn’t blame you.”
The words hang between us, going in deeper than I intended to but the words just kept coming out. My usual old defensiveness rises up to shield me but I don’t pick it up. Which is harder than it sounds.
Harry’s only proof of hearing me is a tight shrug. Maybe he didn’t want to go deep. Bollocks.
“Well, I wasn’t planning on this,” he says and something flickers in his eyes like it’s been turned on. “But I got an invite, and I wanted to just see…everyone.”
“Right,” I nod. Everyone.
It grows quiet again and I’m forced to acknowledge that he probably wasn’t hung up over all this like I was. He’d moved on—it would be easy for someone like him.
I was trying to dive deep but we had been reduced to a shallow creek. This was our fate, I guess. I’d have to rid myself of this soon and really move on after tonight.
“Well I gotta do the rounds so,” I point to the drinks. “Grab whatever. Dana made drinks earlier I dunno if there’s any left.”
“Probably not,” he’s already looking away. “I’ll go say hy to her though.”
I want to grab the shovel I just put away and dig myself a grave right here. That’s how shitty it feels to be the one to be hung over Him. It’s not even the rejection more than the crush of hope that makes me feel so shitty.
In a daze I find Rhia and Juni.
“Who the hell invited him?” I demand because it had to be them.
Rhia eyes Juni who is texting furiously on her phone.
“Well?” I demand. “Juni!?”
“Huh?” She finally looks up. “Oh…heh yeah did you see him? Your grad gift?”
“Juni this isn’t funny! Why the hell did you invite him?”
“You’re gonna bump into him sooner or later!” She shoves her phone away. “May as well hash it out in case there’s something there. You’ll be in town for the next month…”
“There’s nothing. There.” I don’t mean to sound so bitter over it but my friends hear right through me. Both their faces fall.
“Is he dating someone?” They ask.
“I…” maybe that made sense. Why he seemed so over us. “I have no idea! If you don’t even know why the hell did you-“
I cut myself off. I didn’t want to fight with my friends over this. It was a happy occasion what the hell was I doing!
“That son of a bitch,” Juni says. “Did he say something to you, like?”
“What? No! Juni we’re…it’s obvious from his end we’re just history-“
“Yeah right!” Rhia interrupts. “He was more than happy to show up-“
“To a party. Of course he would be happy to be at a party with old friends and free drinks. It has nothing to do with me.”
Juni’s phone starts buzzing and she swears. “I have to take this one sec.”
She leaves and I look at Rhia with a question.
“Boyfriend troubles.” She shakes her head. “She’ll probably fill you in later. I barely know what it’s about.”
“What about you?” I pivot, realizing I was just talking about me. “How’s dating for you?”
“Pile of cow shite. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Convenient.” I cross my arms.
“Look, we’ll all catch up on our love lives later. It’s so bloody obvious what’s going on with you two, you guys are as frustrating as my own love life. Now let me just chat with that one.”
She’s off before I can ask who but she’s making a bee line to Harry. I bury myself in the crowd so he doesn’t know she came from my charging station.
I didn’t want my friends to talk to him. I didn’t want him here at all if he was just here as a formality. Or I did and I wanted to stare at him all night and mourn the fact that my emotionally absent parents had turned me into a fucking mess that couldn’t just tell a guy she really liked him and wanted to be something more than friends.
I get a drink and then another before I find other friends dancing to join. This was my party and I was going to have fun.
***
I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever; the party itself was in a small space and if he sought me out once he could do it again. And he does.
This time I’m biting on a gummy worm and stretching it out waiting for it to snap. I’ve had enough drink in me to have a buzz but I’ve just been having fun. And now that the sun was going down things felt like it was just getting started. The night was young.
Harry comes up to me just as the worm snaps in two. I straighten up when I see him.
“What did that poor worm do to you?” He asks
“Oh,” I laugh out of awkwardness. I wasn’t ready for teasing from Harry yet. “Wrong place wrong time?”
“Been there,” he jokes again but it’s not right enough to break the ice. He tries another angle, “Didn’t get a chance to say congrats yet.”
“Hm.” I nod. “Maybe because you were too busy avoiding me.”
“Maybe?” He tries not to laugh. God, we were so awkward.
“Impressive commitment that, actually.” I tease.
He sighs at my jab but there’s a smile on his face.
Who was I kidding, half our relationship was bantering—if I wanted to see if things could be normal, not responding to the teasing was the first thing not to do.
“And congrats back to you.” I finish lamely.
“Thanks. I thought you’d want me to avoid you.” he confesses, hand scratching the back of his head.
“Maybe.” I keep it vague. “Could be better that way.”
He’s quiet for a moment before he replies, “I disagree.”
The sure way he says it makes my stomach flip.
“Noted.” I look up into his face, I feel like I know it like the back of my mind but seeing it like this I can see all the ways it’s changed. All subtle, but I’d spent enough time studying it to know.
“You look good by the way.” He motions to me. “Really good. Like, grown up. In a good way.”
“Yeah uh thanks. I’m grown up alright—got a big city job and everything. How about you?”
“I’m sorry.” He says as if he hadn’t heard anything I just said and was continuing a conversation in his head.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“I’m sorry. For earlier. I…I came up to you and acted a bit mental. Your friend, Rhia…”
“Oh god.” I forgot to ask her what happened after avoiding it. “What did she say? I didn’t tell her to-“
“No she just…she didn’t really say anything? She just asked me ‘what’s your damage’ and then told me I should ‘figure out why the fuck you showed up here’ and then…left?”
I cover my face, feeling it flush with the heat of an oven. “Sorry.”
“No. I’m sorry. You were being all nice and open and it threw me off and then I just…assumed you weren’t that pleased to see me. So I was gonna avoid you.”
“Hm.” I uncover my face. “Well I’m not not pleased.”
He nods tightly.
“But did you? Figure out why the fuck you showed up here?” I ask.
It earns me a chuckle and relaxes his shoulders.
He leans against the table littered with more snacks than I had during exam season. People had really brought a lot. That was small towns for you.
His eyes grow a little more serious, “you know I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
“When? I’ve said many things.”
“Last time. About committing to things. About trying.”
I blink, surprised. I don’t know why. That summer together was full of me telling him to take responsibility—with Dana, his life, hell I was heavily hinting with me. But hearing him say it outright so vulnerably is a side of him I thought I’d lost the privilege to.
“I, uh…I signed up for this internship. Last summer? A local sports company. I was trying to get some work experience and they really liked me so they kept me on throughout the year? And uhm, they want me to join their youth management program.”
I feel my throat thicken with an emotion that feels like pride but also sadness. “That’s amazing congrats Har.”
“Yeah thanks. But like, initially I thought, no way I don’t want to be tied down. Y’know? What if there’s another better job out there.”
I make a sound, a laugh but it also sounds like a scoff. He smiles like he knows what I’m thinking. And I’m sure he does.
“I could’ve taken a step back like I wanted, but…I didn’t. I thought about what you said—I had been thinking about it since you said it actually. I don’t know, it felt like I needed to show up.”
For a second, all the memories of our time together flood my mind—the summer days, our late night talks, all the scolding and the confessions and the banter. He’s doing it now, doing what I had been after him for. Hearing him say this makes me feel a twist in my chest; he was growing up too.
I swallow and look away, the unexpected emotions making it hard to talk. “I didn’t expect you to take it seriously,” I finally say, kind of cringing. “I kinda went off on you that last time. About your commitment to…stuff.”
He chuckles softly, the sound feels like a balm to my embarrassment. “I needed to hear it. Honestly, I did! And I’m finally starting to really figure it out—stepping up and going after something even though it scares me.”
He says it so sure of himself, I believe him. And part of me feels proud. Of him and of us. Maybe we both inadvertently pushed each other in ways we couldn’t even see at the time.
My voice catches a little when I look at him next. “I’m sorry, though. For…how I said it. I wasn’t exactly gentle. And in all honesty I was pushing a lot of the fault on you. I could’ve also been the one to step up and say something but I was scared.”
He shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “No. Don’t ever apologize for that. You were right to push me. I needed it. You always knew what I could be before I did.”
His sincerity makes my heart ache. Everything’s different now. But maybe that’s okay.
I catch his eye and hold it a beat longer than before, letting the silence between us say what we can’t.
“So long story short that’s why the fuck I’m here,” he says to break the seriousness—something he was good at. This time I laugh too.
“Thanks for letting me know.” I joke.
“No thank you,” he direct his soft smile at me and I hate that I can’t grab his face and just kiss him. “I don’t want to avoid you. So I’ve laid this all out to you; I’m sorry a-and thank you.”
“I feel like school you would absolutely fucking lose it hearing you say all those words just now.”
“He was a dickhead. Thought about himself too much.”
“So we agree.” I smirk.
“I guess so,” he looks out into the party. “He didn’t know a good thing even if it ran him over. He was scared.”
“We all were, in a way.” I say. “It’s nice feeling grown up huh?”
“Yeah, feels good to look down on him.”
I laugh, pushing him playfully out of habit. His laughter dies down after that and I feel the awkward bit creep in.
“I don’t want to keep you. Your friends might try something else.” He jokes but it doesn’t quite hit.
“Yeah. I gotta go back to dancing.” I grab another can from the melted bucket of ice. “You should join the fun!”
If he was just around to talk it out but not dance or even feel comfortable when I touch him…i shouldn’t be around him. Because all I wanted to do was burrow into him.
Maybe he did have a girlfriend and this was just closure. What would I know.
Maybe I should ask Dana.
Except Dana is locked in something when I spot her and when I try to find my other friends I find Rhia consoling Juni inside in the kitchen.
“Why are we sad?” I demand, knowing i was sad myself. It was probably the fucking house.
“Boyfriend troubles,” Rhia repeats.
“Fuck him,” Juni sniffles. “He’s…he’s…”
“We need to dance.” I demand. “Why the hell are we here celebrating grad and being sad about boys? Let’s have fun!”
So I drag my best friends out to the garden where we can dance in the cooling night air. I try not to look for Harry but it’s hard not to be magnetized to him after all this time. When I see him on his phone, maybe with his girlfriend, I bat the sadness away like a cricket ball. I would deal with it later. Now wasn’t the time.
***
The night slowly fades, so do most people from the party, but the hum of music is still in the air despite it being midnight. And then, almost as if the universe was pulling the strings like usual, White Ferrari begins to play.
The song was coded into my memories now and it always strikes me like lightening when it comes on.
It’s bad luck to talk on these rides...
It’s like I can feel the weight of shared moments: the soft goodbye we never said, the feeling that we both knew it wasn’t going to work—not then. All the aching potential we ever had.
I didn’t care, to state the plain. Kept my mouth closed, we’re both so familiar…
The last time we were actually together—quiet, bittersweet, right before we went our separate ways thinking it wasn’t the right time for us. Before the actual fight.
I shouldn’t but I can’t help it, I look for him.
And there he is across the yard, leaning against the brick wall. His arms crossed and eyes already on me. I freeze under his intense gaze but it grows soft as he realizes I’m looking at him.
For that second, it feels like time stops. All traces of humour are gone. He’s looking at me like he’s known all along that moment in the car was his too.
The ache in my chest is sharp and real, but it’s enveloped in a quiet kind of understanding: I see you, the real you, not who you used to be. I turn away and it hits me—he is’t running, he isn’t afraid anymore.
Shit. It makes my heart pound and mind race.
The song lingers, its final haunting lines filling the space between us, and when it finally fades into another, I turn back to him. Couldn’t help it.
For a second, it feels like we’re right back to when we started; with gazes clashing across a room at a party. And again now. Only this time, grief stems from between us and there’s no pretending there wasn’t a story of us.
I had convinced myself I was fine, learned to build this version of myself where he was just a memory, so I wouldn’t have to deal with how much I still wanted him. But here he is, looking at me like he hasn’t moved on either.
His gaze is steady and searching, it makes me feel seen in a way that I wasn’t prepared for.
My pulse picks up and it’s hard to take a deep breath in. I’m afraid—I want to look away and pretend this isn’t happening. But I can’t stop bloody looking at him! And neither can he; I feel like I’m getting all of him, more than I expected or prepared for.
I imagine myself running from it. Cutting this away, leaving for London and burying myself in a new life.
Not this time. Even though my chest is tight, my mind is screaming at me to protect myself, it’s telling me I’ll get attached and get hurt. But no. Not this time. You owed it to both of you not to keep running.
And just like that, he’s in front of me. The unsaid words between us are so obvious that we don’t speak. He brushes my hair back behind my ear and I close my eyes so I can soak in this feeling. On the cusp, before we decide what we’re doing.
“I always loved that song,” he says to me.
“It’s gotten really special over the years,” I look up at him. “But it’s lowkey heartbreaking.”
“Hopeful too though.”
“Hopeful?”
“Yeah,” his hand’s dropped by now but he holds it out. “Like this is a shite place we found ourselves in. But maybe somewhere else…somewhere out there, we find ourselves in a better one—a-a brighter one.”
I clasp his hand, his interpretation evoking tears I try very hard to suppress.
“Mhm,” I collect myself. “I guess I believe in this life—the one we’ve found ourselves in. And making the best of that.”
“Always the realist,” he smiles. A smile that I know so well—a smile that says it knows me so well.
I let out a shaky breath. “Someone has to be.”
The humour slowly leaks away and he looks at me like he has a confession, something weighing on him. I stay still in anticipation until we’re interrupted.
“Harry I thought that was you!”
Dana’s cousin, Ray, clearly didn’t read the room.
“Ray, mate!” Harry’s face goes back to the usual as he greets his friend.
Ray looks at me and realizes who Harry was talking to, he apologizes, excusing himself for just arriving. That he brought leftover pastries, from closing at his now part-time gig at the cafe.
I take them from him and leave the two friends alone, already seeing other friends of his orbit towards the two as they enter the garden.
***
In the end, it’s me, my best friends, him, and Dana. By the time it’s too obvious that I might be avoiding him I find Dana talking to Harry, her laugh loud as she says something I can’t quite catch. She gives me a final hug and a word of advice in my ear before stepping away, leaving us alone. Don’t get hurt.
I’m sure my friends are watching from the sidelines with the excuse of cleaning up, thinking the same thing. I approach him, my heart picking up speed like it always does with him.
“Hey,” he says softly, like this is the first time we’re meeting tonight.
“Hey,” I reply, feeling that familiar flutter of nerves, like my stomach’s full of bees.
“Was a great party,” his voice is warm. “I can’t believe I went to a party thrown by YN.”
“It’s not as impressive when it’s basically planned by parents and we’re in our 20s.”
“Yeah maybe 16 year old YN would have been more impressive.”
“I just can’t believe we have our whole lives ahead of us now. No syllabus or rubric to dictate it.” I say, trying to fill the space between us, to ignore how much my heart is pounding in my chest.
“Thank fuck,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh at the unexpected language, relieving some of the nerves.
I sense him watching me laugh, and my chest tightens—this quiet weight pulling me back into the moment, into us.
His gaze doesn’t shift, doesn’t falter. He’s taking me in like he wants to remember every detail of this: the way I laugh, the way I’m standing in front of him. Between what was and what’s to come.
“We’re not kids anymore.“
“Nope.” I agree. I let the silence hang there for a moment. And then, I give him a small smile, words slipping out, “I’m glad you came tonight.”
“Me too, I almost didn’t though. I thought you would kick me out on sight. Have our old class boo me out.” he says, the lightest attempt at humor.
“Psh that wouldn’t happen,” I look out to the empty garden. “You were always more likeable than me.”
“Never thought I’d be likeable to the likes of someone like you though.”
“Well I was at rock bottom when we hooked up.”
His eyes flash and I bite back a grin. We were getting warmer.
But slowly as we look at each other, and for the first time, I see that familiar intensity from when we were younger. But it’s less nervous, more confident—like he’s finally ready to face everything we’ve been dancing around for years.
“I just um,” there’s a boulder in my throat but I try to talk through it. There was something I’d wanted to say to him and now was the chance at the end of the night. Now or never. “I wanted to seriously apologize—I know you said not to. But I said some hurtful things the last time we spoke. Unnecessarily. Um, I’m sorry about that. Really sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was just hurting.”
Words I had regretted deeply since. I wanted to come clean.
“Do you have a ride home?” he asks, suddenly like he didn’t hear anything I said.
I glance over at my best friends, who are in the midst of cleaning up. They catch my eye and freeze, but I can’t give them any more than a quick glance before I turn back to him.
“I…uhm,” I hesitate, trying to push through the fear. “I was just gonna walk home.”
“Can I drive you home tonight?”
I don’t even pause. “Sure!” My voice comes out higher than I mean, and I immediately feel like I’ve given my nerves away. I clear my throat, trying to compose myself. “Let me just…grab my stuff.”
I point over at my friends, who are now not even trying to pretend they’re not staring. He nods and gives me a small, almost secretive smile full of all the unspoken things.
“Take your time. I’ll be in the lot,” he says and I nod. “And it’s fine YN. By the way. The apology. Thank you…and for what it’s worth I’m sorry too. I wasn’t my best.”
My nod is jerky, I can’t respond because he’s being so formal and nice and we weren’t normally like this. But I’m glad I said it even though my mind continues to spin with all the unspoken things.
I take a deep breath and rush back to my best friends, who immediately grab my arm, practically vibrating with curiosity.
“What’s going on? What did he say?” They’re asking at once, and I try to keep my cool.
“I don’t have enough time to go over it,” I insist, though I can’t stop the small grin forming. “I’ve gotta go but don’t worry about this place. I’ll do cleanup tomorrow. Thank you guys for, well for everything.”
“What! Don’t thank us—Go, go!” Rhia urges, practically shoving me towards the house. “We’ve got this covered, go get some.”
I take one last glance at them, love for my friends overflowing. And with a kiss blown in their direction, I head out.
I step outside and spot his car in the street. It's the same one from high school, the one I thought I’d never see again. The sight of it brings back memories and I can’t help the blush that rises on my cheeks.
He's leaning against the car, arms crossed, watching me approach. And in that moment, everything feels different but also so, so familiar.
I realize he was pretty sober tonight—that he was serious about whatever he was doing tonight with me. The things he said about growing up and showing up. He hadn’t turned to drinks or drugs to make any grand gestures or confessions tonight, this was all just him.
“Ready?” he asks when I reach him.
I nod, but I keep my mouth shut, not trusting myself to speak without revealing more than I’m ready to.
He opens the door for me, and I slide into the passenger seat, trying to act normal. But the moment I settle in, the familiar smell of him fills the space. I don’t know if it’s the combination of his cologne or the faint remnants of memories, but it feels like home and strange all at once.
The drive starts quietly, like this was all too big for small talk.
“Want to go somewhere else? Before home?” he asks, glancing at me.
A part of me wants to decline—wants to say we should just go to my place, keep it simple. But another part of me doesn’t want this night to end yet. It feels like we still needed the rest of it to figure out what was going on.
I take a breath, my voice barely above a whisper. “Ok.”
It doesn’t take long before we’re driving down the familiar path to the beach, the one where I fell apart in high school. My heart stutters in my chest at the sight of it, the soft sound of waves meeting the shore.
“It’s finally weather appropriate,” he says, pulling into the lot.
My heart bursts at his words, and let out a small laugh. “Yeah! You timed it better.“
We climb out of the car, the night air wrapping around us with salt, sand, and the static of what’s to come. He circles to the back, popping the boot and I can’t help watching the way he moves—his body part of my own muscle memory. I knew him like the back of my hand, I realize with a start.
“You didn’t bring wine too, did you?” I ask, half teasing.
He straightens, a bottle already in hand, grin flashing in the dim light. “Actually…” he brandises it like a magic trick. “Came prepared.”
I’m both surprised and a little touched; he came to my event tonight, not knowing how it would go, and yet he thought ahead about this. About us. He’d held onto hope.
“No glasses?” I ask.
“Oh my-,” he says, his face annoyed. “YN. I forgot. Again.”
I roll my eyes and laugh, taking the bottle from him. “It’s perfect. I’ll live without the glasses.”
We start down the beach, sand making an uneven surface to walk on, the sound of the waves crashing in the background, and I take a deep breath. The salty air feels like it’s reclaiming something I’d thought was gone forever.
“Are we going skinny dipping?” I ask.
“Not unless you want to?” He raises a brow.
“I am a good swimmer,” I used to go with Nan to the park as a kid and swim at school. It had been a while. “But next time.”
“I will hold you to that.”
“Oh I’m sure you will, Harry Styles.” I squint my eyes at him. He grins.
We walk until we’ve gone far enough, it was somewhere after 2am so the place was free of anybody.
“Wow,” he sighs as we sit down into the sand, the fine grains settling around us. “I can’t believe we’re here. Together.”
“I know.” I hand him back the bottle and watch him work to unwrap it, suddenly realizing. “And you forgot a corkscrew genius.”
“Ah, bollocks.” He bumps the bottle against his forehead with a dull thunk, and the sound makes me laugh.
“Maybe…” He digs out his keys and picks one, wedging it into the cork with the kind of stubborn focus that couldn’t end in success. I watch, fully engrossed in this attempt, as it raises the cork up a quarter of the way.
“Wow!” I exclaim. “That sort of worked?!”
“Not well enough.” He grumbles and puts the bottle beside us.
I pat his shoulder. “You’ll get it perfect one day.”
“One day?” He turns, one corner of his mouth lifting giving me that same dimpled grin I’ve thought about more than I’d like to admit.
“Yeah y’know…next time you come to the beach like, with a bottle.”
“With you.”
My stomach somersaults.
“Maybe. Whatever.” I stare out at the dark waters, meanwhile my face splits into a smile. I know he’s watching it happen.
“I could go and read your mind.” He tells me.
“If you could it wouldn’t have taken us this long to come back to this beach Har.”
“No no,” he pats the sand. “I could go and read your mind. I just doubted it all the bloody time.”
I look over at him, pulling my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. “I guess I didn’t make it any easier.”
“That’s right.” He nudges my shoulder with his. “Bloody hell. I’ve missed you so much…but you know that.”
“I didn’t.” It was nice to hear. Really nice. “And…I missed you too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I um, thought about your dumb face all the time.”
The confession feels fragile so I bury my face into my knee so it can stop spilling my heart out.
He laughs, boyish and smug, but his cheeks take on colour. “You know what’s stupid?” he says once the grin fades. “I used to think I wanted to be with anyone who was cool. Then you showed up and ruined that.”
“Really? Ruined it?” I ask, my mouth still half-covered but a flock of birds taking off in my stomach.
“Yep,” he picks up a handful of sand and lets it fall out of his fingers like time itself. Like all the time we’d spent circling each other. “You made me want something that actually mattered. Took me way too long to figure out the one who made me see things differently was the only one I needed.”
“Yeah. That’s so true,” I respond.
I want to say something more. Something that fills in the gaps of all the years between us and makes sense of it. But all I can do is look at him, really look at him, the person I’m just starting to understand again.
“Do you think it’s too late?” I finally voice my fear, barely above a whisper.
He frowns a little. “Too late for what?”
My heart thuds. “For figuring out what this is.”
He doesn’t speak right away. His fingers worry at the neck of the bottle, and for a second all I can hear is the sea.
“I don’t know,” he admits after a beat, his voice quieter more vulnerable than I’ve heard it in a long time. “But I think it’s worth trying. Or f-for me, it is.“
My sigh of relief comes out shaky he was finally saying the words of my dreams—that he wants to try. That he’d fight for this.
“Good. Me too.”
He holds a hand out between us. When I take it, he tugs gently, pulling me off balance so I fall against him. His arm catches me like they were always meant to.
I bury my face into his shirt, suddenly feeling shy in the face of all these naked emotions. No longer wearing coolness or fear—they’re as fierce and unrelenting as the waves on the beach. And he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.
He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I breathe him in: salt, soap, warmth. I want to remember every single atom of this moment.
“Hey,” I murmur, tilting my head up. My cheek brushes his.
“Hm?” he says, voice rough, eyes already on mine.
My lips curl into a smile, challenging him to make the first move. But he was up for a challenge, he always was.
He cups my cheek, his hand warm and sure as our lips touch. He kisses me like recognition—like he knows exactly who I am, and he does. I know who he is too but I’m also uncovering him. Trying to accept that he was solid and not going anywhere.
His thumb brushes my cheek as he deepens the kiss, as he handles me in the exact way I’ve always craved.
Happiness hits me so sharply it almost hurts. It’s been so long since I’ve let myself feel this much. I know there is just as much sorrow and heartache to make up for it. But I had to stop thinking like that.
“Mmm,” I murmur into the kiss and I feel him pause.
He breaks away, untangling our limbs to look at me with a bemused expression before laughing.
“What?” I ask, now feeling very shy and colder without his arm around me. “Why are you laughing?”
I notice my minty gloss smeared on his lips, transferred in our kiss, and the blood roars in my ears as I anticipate what’s to come.
“Nothing. It’s just…I’m an idiot,” he reaches for me again with a look of awe. “World’s biggest.”
“I could have told you that. At any point we’ve known each other.”
He presses a grinning kiss against my mouth, “yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“So is that what you’re into?”
“What?”
“Idiots.” He balances on his knees in front of me and leans closer. I fall back into the sand, laughing as he catches himself above me.
“Ummm,” I reach out to brush his hair. “It seems so!”
“Well just my luck then.” He dips down, tracing kisses along my neck, light and teasing and sticky. Heat blooms where his lips were, and my head feels cloudy.
“But—but only the world’s biggest,” I manage to still get out.
“How perfect a pair we are,” he murmurs against my skin. And I couldn’t agree more. It always was him.
For a second everything blurs. I feel like I’m laying on the grains of sand—of every second we were together and every second between that and it surrounds me and spills over me and holds me right where I am.
His cold hand inches below my dress and finds my ribs, I jolt in surprise which gets both of us laughing again. I use the moment to push him to the side so I can turn us, straddling him with my knees instead.
“Ooh, I like the view from here,” he says, hands behind his head like the idiot he was.
“You better Styles,” I plant my elbows on either side of him and make a map of his face using my fingers. I want to memorize everything, this moment and him and the giddy feeling that bubbles up inside of me like champagne.
Out of nowhere he widens his legs, hitting my knees on either side of him so that I collapse flush against his body. I only just catching my nose from smashing into his chest.
I prop my head up. “What the hell!”
His eyes rake down my face and into my spilling neckline, “Even better view.”
He laughs, but by then I’m sat up on him again. His breath catches when I drag my hand down his exposed chest to his abdomen, putting pressure as I lean forward.
“View’s all you care about?”
HIs throat bobs. “Definitely not.”
“Thought you had more substance now.”
His hand circles my wrist, stopping it from travelling further. “Thought I made myself clear about calling me Styles.”
“I’m pretty sure you can’t tell me what to do.” I go to kiss him waiting for his lids to flutter close before I ghost his lips and peck the corner instead.
He gasps and pulls me down in response, moving us so I’m below again. Sand flies out around us—I just know I’ll find it everywhere tomorrow.
He sits up and both of our chests heave as we catch our breaths, grinning. I feel a chill creep in as the sand presses against my bare back but his gaze burns hot enough to chase the chill away.
“Hey, good thing I never did meet Gary. Maybe you and I wouldn’t have happened—maybe I’d be here with him.”
“Gary?” His brows scrunch.
“Have you forgotten?” I couldn’t believe he’s forgotten our first ever conversation. “Your twin brother-“
“Oh fuck!” He shouts out a laugh into the deserted beach. “Fuck Gary! He had no game. He wouldn’t have known what to do with you.”
“You barely did,” I remind him.
“But I’ve grown. Gary’s still a twat. Now he lives under the stairs.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” He says, leaning closer with a sudden possessiveness. “And I know what you want, woman. What you need.”
“Harry,” I stop him with a hand to his chest and prop myself up, suddenly needing to say. “You better not break my heart.”
His face grows serious as he shakes his head. “Never. I’m going to take care of your heart. Protect it more than my own—I promise you YN. I promise.”
His words ease the knot that was forming, the perfect hook to untangle it. And instead of getting gushy I tackle him, our legs tangling together as he goes down in the sand again. I love how it felt like the entire beach was our playground and we could find ourselves here again.
I leave open-mouthed kisses along the column of his throat and back up to his mouth that leave me dizzy with desire. HIs hands come down to knead my body like he’s relearning every curve and I feel comets blaze through my brain. On each of then I make a wish, never let go, never let go, never let go.
When he takes my mouth in his, deep and warm, tongue coaxing, his hands work my dress up my thighs until every thought disappears in a meteor shower and my body is all nerve endings. The sea air caresses the blaze of heat he leaves behind.
“You’re all I ever wanted,” he whispers as he plants a kiss into my neck. Into my hair. “I’m never letting you go.”
“I wanted,” my pulse stutters. “This. You.”
He laughs at my inability to form a sentence, rolling us again until he’s above, eyes dark and amused. His kisses scatter—cheek, jaw, corner of my mouth, teeth scraping along a spot right above my collarbone only he knew.
His fingers press into the back of my thigh urging them higher so I clasp them behind him. We reacquaint each other to all the places we’ve loved on before.
My breath catches when his palm settles at the curve of my hip, move agonizingly slow to cup my heat, moving aside fabric to stroke once, slow and sure. Heat unspools under my skin, a single slow pulse that ripples outward, until I’m aware of nothing but the rhythm he creates and the tide moving in tandem around us.
“That’s my girl,” he urges as he senses how close I am before his head disappears in the tent of my dress. I don’t even have time to ask a single question as his lips kiss up my thigh, don’t even have time to relish in how my pulse reacts. My girl.
He mouth finishes what he started; a slow pulse builds and spreads until I’m aware of nothing but the pace he draws from me. He seems to sense exactly where I am—of course he does; when to push and when to linger. The world narrows to touch and sound. My hands dig into the sand, trying to anchor myself, but it slides past me. I come apart in waves, the sea keeping count.
When I can focus again, he’s above me, grinning like he’s just stolen the moon from above us. My patience for teasing slips; all I can think about is him—having him after all these years.
“Enough of this,” I reach for him, breathing heavy. “Just want you.”
I slide my hand beneath the edge of his shirt, not even hearing what he says next. His skin is hot and tense, the steady ridge of his ribs grounding me. I help him out of the rest of his things, fingertips skimming back to his collarbone, a tremor going through him that betrays his own undoing.
He was mine, I was his. Nobody else felt like this.
I don’t realize I whisper it to him, “Mine.”
He groans against my neck, and the sound of it—low, rough—pulls a quiet sound from me. He moves closer until his chest presses to mine, sweat and sand clinging to each of us, and suddenly there’s no careful distance left.
We adjust by instinct, finding each other until it feels right. His hand slides behind my back as I arch, fingertips splaying between my shoulder blades, drawing me forward into another kiss, another caress, into him.
What starts as memory turns into something slower, deeper. His our bodies are in sync, sure now, like we’ve reacquainted ourselves with a language we once knew. The air fogs between us. I can’t help the string of swearing that escapes me as he moves against me, as I feel so right and full and here.
His forehead finds mine. “Still okay?” he asks, voice hoarse.
I nod, catching his lower lip with mine before whispering, “Don’t stop. Like, ever.”
“Don’t tempt me. I might actually never stop.”
I want to tell him he didn’t need to. That we could stay like this forever but the words evaporate as he changes his rhythm, neither of us able to handle slow anymore.
His hands inch between us and the world tilts off axis for a moment. Every brush of skin feels like something being rewritten and we move with the tide, playful and sure, the years of hesitation lost out to sea.
Just the two of us together, light-headed with the relief of finally giving in, cards on the table. Soul and body bare to the other.
Outside us the sea roars on and hushes the rest of the words we didn’t need to say, our bodies finally doing all the talking instead; unravelling into each other.
***
***
The night is much quieter now.
The moon’s having it’s final moments alone in the dark before it begins its brief sharing of the sky with the sun. It’s pale light glints off the car in the distance and the horizon brings the rest of the light.
My dress is basically sand now and Harry’s shirt hangs wrinkled and unbuttoned on his frame—evidence of being put back together again. We don’t hurry back across the beach—every second was precious to us.
Our fingers stay laced, and every few steps he swings our hands between us. My smile stays on my face, it’s a soft feeling pulsing out of somewhere in my chest.
He catches my expression and grins. Both of us replaying everything tonight that led up to now.
I bump his shoulder. Wanting to say something—i’m happy or thank you or I’m pretty sure I love you. But I can’t even get my mouth to form any words.
His grin softens into something almost shy in my gaze. “Whatever you’re thinking, me too.”
I bite my lip, breath shaky but feelings sure.
The sand gives way to pavement and a faint whiff of petrol. He opens the passenger door for me, but I linger, eyes on the foamy edge of the sea so I don’t forget. When he leans in, crowding my periphery, I turn to meet him halfway. His lips taste faintly of sand and joy.
How did I ever convince myself anybody else could compare?
I tilt closer, arms looping around his neck, chasing the warmth of him. His hands follows the curve of my spine into my hair. I melt against him, half-laugh half-sigh.
His knee slides upward between mine, teasing, and my breath falters. For a moment, all I can think is recreating tonight, taking him home with me—until I say it out loud.
“Come back to mine,” I manage, the words breaking against his mouth. “I want to wake up to you.”
He stills to look at me, eyes wide like he’s making sure. “Really?”
“Yes.” I rock forward against him, urgent like a part of me is unspooling again. “Yes! We’ve spent enough time apart. I want—this. You.”
He presses his forehead to mine, a shaky laugh on hips lips. “I like this honest you.”
“I’ve always been honest,” I say, kissing his chin.
“True,” he murmurs. “Vulnerable, then.”
The word makes my heart skip a beat. It used to sound like weakness; but I tell myself tonight it sounded like trust. My pulse evens out beneath his touch.
He squeezes me once, a quiet promise, before widening the door, letting me go and I make a frustrated noise at having to let him go. But I slide in. The night air curls through the window, still carrying the beach and sitting there I realize how tired I was, I hadn’t slept all night.
As he rounds the car, I watch him through the windshield, the shape of him half-lit in the parking lights. We were actually doing this.
The car hums softly as we pull onto the road, tires crunching over stray sand. The moon slants through the windshield, our way home slowly being lit up by the rising sun.
I glance over at him. “We probably look insane right now.”
He grins without taking his eyes off the road. “Maybe a little, I think we took half the sand with us.”
“Yeah your car will definitely need a hoover.”
“Pretty sure I ate a bunch of sand too,” he laughs as he thinks about it.
I laugh as I realize. “That is very much a possibility. Worth it though.”
“You think?”
“Yeah. Finally worth it. 10/10 would do it again.” I tip my head back and look at him.
“10/10 would do you again.” He glances with a tease.
“Just get us home.” I laugh.
We fall quiet for a beat, letting the car and the sea beyond it fill the space between words. I feel his hand find mine on the center console. Warm, soft, grounding. I return with a small squeeze.
At a red light, I lean my head onto his shoulder. He presses a quick, soft kiss to the back of my hand where it’s still laced with his. I close my eyes for a moment, letting the moment sink in. This was real. This was my life.
I catch a glimpse of the backseat when I move back again, and my chest tightens with a pang of memory. Teenagers once, fragile and fumbling—him holding me when I had fallen apart, sheltering me without a word. And now here we were years later, sand still on our clothes, both of us able to laugh—stronger, steadier.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks as he drives again.
“Not a whole lot,” the streetlights continue to flicker by as he starts driving again. “I figured I’d wake up to you and go from there.”
“Ugh don’t say shit like that,” he grips the wheel. “That sounds like my dreams.”
I laugh. “I will have to leave you to drop my Nan at the airport in the afternoon.”
“What time?” He asks and I tell him. “Wo-could I drop her? Like, could I drive you guys?”
I turn to really look at him—was he serious?
“Really? You’d want to?”
“Yeah?” He glances at me. “She’s one of the most important people in your lives. A drive together shouldn’t be too bad right?”
“No!” I laugh. “I’m just—shocked. I guess? I thought you’d be terrified.”
“Oh I am.” He taps the wheel. “But I’m pushing through all that. I’m here for you remember. I want…all of it.”
“Yeah…” My eyes flicker to the backseat—he’d been there for me even when he was scared. Even when we barely knew each other. Beneath all the ego, fear, and bad habits he’d always lingered.
He notices me staring and chuckles. “Thinking about the past?”
“Yeah,” I murmur, leaning back just enough to glance at him. “Just remembering when a wise idiot—oxymoron I know, told me back there ‘You’re hurting right now but life will change for you.’ And he was right actually.”
“Yeah? I said that? That’s good.”
All I feel is affection, “I know. You should say stuff like that to me again.”
“I-I am sorry for being part of that hurt.”
“Oh Har,” I reach over to stroke the back of his hair. “Life changed—is changing. For us. I made it out alive, remember?”
He nods, his slight frown disappearing as he thinks of a way to lighten the mood. “What about—life’s better with love?”
I groan, “so cheesy. Too forced. You had better things to say before.”
But I don’t point out that he’d said the L word. Not directly but it was there.
“We’ve got quite a complicated story haven’t we.” He takes my hand back into his at another red.
“You can say that again.” I agree. “It’s a lot. I can’t believe we’re back in this car again. Or that I’m leaving all this.”
It really hits me, strange and bittersweet, that I’m leaving soon. Streets that have seen everything: the echoes of grandparents’ voices, friends shouting across yards, first loves, first drunken nights, first heartbreaks; the quiet and loud moments of growing up and all it’s aches. I was leaving the place that raised me; a patchwork of memory stitched into every corner. Finding a new home again.
“London’s going to be lucky to have you YN,” Harry says, soft but certain.
I squeeze his hand. “I guess I already am lucky. For this,” I gesture vaguely between us, sand and warmth and laughter and promises.
He smiles, the kind that makes my heart lift, and the light turns green. We drive on, fingers still tangled, the hum of the engine and our small town slowly waking up filling the rest of the silence.
And I let myself sink into it, leaning just a little closer, watching the streets slip by, thinking of what’s behind and what’s ahead. If one thing was true, it was knowing that whatever comes next, we’d face it together. This time the only true thing was that nothing would break us. We were going to make it and we were going to be fine.
I miss your writings on my feed. I hope you’re well and able to go back here, but no rush! I just wish more readers can read your fics because they are so good! Anyway, excited to read the next TST part! Will patiently wait for the next part until you’re ready to go back here!
You’re so sweet thank you 😭 tbh I really missed writing!!! I’ve finally had some free time this week and have been going crazy writing sm. TST will finally get its conclusion :)
Hi darlinggg, I read somewhere that you planned to post the TST pt 4 end of August, is it? Wondering when will it be lol. I can’t get enough of your stories. Do you think TST will conclude by pt 4?
I definitely did! Embarrassingly I really only had one more scene to write for it but life happened 🥲 I am finishing edits on it and hoping to post this weekend—it will be the final part!
I sit in the caf replaying the last few interactions I’d had with Leon because he had been really weird today.
Leon, I’d been crushing on him for months now. Ever since we sat in the same row during our first lecture of ecology my heart has never recovered. He was cool—so much cooler than me, but he always had a teasing something for me. Once last month he even let me yap his ear off about how stressed one of the assignments was making me. After that he invited me to a study group doubling my time with him weekly.
The rest was flirtatious history.
All my friends have been privy of every single detail up until today.
Today I’d spotted him getting a coffee in the caf so I’d gone up to him but he was distant. I’d tried talking like usual but he would look over my head when he looked at me. It had made me feel kinda dismissed and mostly lame.
I don’t understand what happened. Or maybe it was inevitable.
“Probably inevitable,” I mutter. “It was about time right? That he figured out what a dork I was.”
Gia, my best friend, just stares at me with an eyebrow raised.
“He would! We both knew he would!” I whisper. “I just want to know what it was that made him so…he was so dismissive! I hate that!”
Just then I spot a familiar green coat and wave at the group forming by checkout. Pretty soon friendly bodies descend around us, jostling the seats in our usual corner of the caf.
“That’s all you’re eating?” Matty points to my apple and pastry.
“Not hungry.” I reply.
“Bullshit!” Saba says from beside me. “I know you didn’t have breakfast either. You bitched about over text.”
“Yeah you love their fried rice,” Jackie points to Matty’s plate. It was true, the caf did do a decent fried rice.
I shrug. “Maybe later.”
“Oh she’s moping.” Saba points to my face. “What’s going on now?”
“What’s what’s going on?” Chai slides into the final seat of the table.
“We’re about to find out.”
All eyes turn on me. “You guys don’t want to hear it…it’s about Leon.”
I see all their faces twitch with either apprehension or fatigue.
Unlike me, they were all over my crush—at first the support had poured in, after all I was the only one of my friends who hadn’t dates in the two years we’ve been at uni. But when the crush kept stretching out with problems after problems to present to them (meanwhile it stayed a crush) well, they got tired of it pretty quickly.
The rest was dashed when we all bumped into Leon in the caf one time and they met him. Nobody was particularly fond of him. They all agreed he was giving hot but repressed & full of ego.
That hadn’t stopped me.
“Go on.” Jackie nods. She was the mother of the group and would listen to me even if her ears were bleeding.
“You’re going to say it either way, don’t be coy,” Gia adds.
“Or don’t,” I hear Chai whisper. I glance at him and he throws a fake smile my way. I roll my eyes in return.
I dive into the interaction anyway because I was helpless with these things without my friends. Their questions pry at what happened the time before that—study group when I arrived late and barely had time to talk to him. And the time before that?
“When he asked if I was going to the Halloween after-party?”
Jackie leans in, “and?”
“And I said yeah! And he asked if I wanted a ride and I said I was going with friends.”
“Oh my god!” Jackie and Saba both groan, Saba even slapping the table.
“What!” I ask.
“Seriously YN?” Matty says over a mouthful of rice. “Seriously?”
“No what did I do wrong?”
“He asked you out!” Saba exclaims. “And you totally shut him down!”
I look at Gia who looks like she agrees with her lips twisted like idiot you screwed this up; quietly judgey with a lot to say was Gia in a nutshell and this time is no different.
“Guys. Guys okay okay. Hold on. How would I know asking me about a ride was asking me out!?”
“That’s basic,” Matty fills in. “He’s asking you for a ride so basically he’s asking if you’re going. He only cares if you’re going because he is asking you to go with him. If you say yes to the ride you say yes to going with him. If you say no-“
“Okay but why couldn’t he just ask me point blank?”
“Cuz he’s hot stuff with an ego remember?” Gia reminds me.
My friends exchange glances.
It hits me. “I…shit! Shit! Maybe I should—well I think I should explain to him how-“
“Noooo!!” The cries come from the group. “Do not!”
“See…if he was rejected but he took it well you could have,” Saba explains. “But the asshole—and I always knew he was one, is now actively rejecting you because his ego was hurt. So he doesn’t care why you said no. Just that you said it. And so you’re dead to him.”
“And dead folk don’t talk,” Gia adds. “So that’s now officially over.”
“No fair,” I pout.
“Screwed the pooch man,” Chai adds.
“Ew?” I stare.
“It’s a saying?” He stares back.
“Anyway,” Jackie waves her hand. “Get over him. Fast. Luckily it was just a crush anyway.”
“A flirtationship.” Saba adds.
“A what now?” Matty tilts his head.
“But guys he’s nice! Maybe I just hurt him but he’s so nice to me otherwise!? And I—honestly I think he would understand.”
“Okay babe,” Saba’s hand lands on my shoulder, gearing up to launch into an explanation. I was usually on the receiving end of these because apparently all my friends were better at socializing than I was. “He was nice because you’re hot. Hotter than you realize you are because you can’t see past your own…baggage. And he thought it was going for him because hot girls who don’t know they’re hot is easy work for guys like him. And until you rejected him he thought he had it in the bag! But, he’s not the kind of guy that keeps girls around as friends. He either wants to screw them or…”
“Screw them.” Chay laughs at his joke.
“Yep.” Saba nods sagely.
“Noo,” I cover my face with my hands. This has been months of setting this all up. How could I fuck it up so quickly? Leon was different, he wasn’t that big of an ass. He had to be different.
Maybe if I find him at the party we could pick things up again. Maybe…
“Better not be scheming there.” Matty flicks my forehead from across the table.
“Ow!” I rub my temples. Gia snickers and I throw her a dirty look.
“Okay guys so Halloween party. Are we ready?” Someone changes the subject.
“No,” I groan as everyone gives an enthusiastic yes.
The rest of the meal is spent discussing costumes. Three of them were doing a group costume they hoped would win them best group. It did come with a prize of 500 so I didn’t blame them for trying so hard.
In my head I continue scheming.
***
“I think I can win him back,” I mutter to Gia as we walk out of the library. I’d just spent 3 hours typing up an assignment and desperately needed to be out of my head and in fresh air. “Because he likes me right? That’s why we flirted so long and he asked me out—oh my god I can’t believe I didn’t get it. It’s so obvious now! But—oof!”
My conversation is cut short as I bump into somebody carting around their bike. And as my luck has it his chest has no cushion to brace off of.
“Woah!” The bike goes crashing down as two hands clutch my shoulders to stabilize me. “Are you alright?”
I stare up at who I just rushed into and it takes me a second before I place him.
Oh. Fit Dude.
First year, at some pretentious party with flickering LED lights and punch in buckets—which I’d avoided but he clearly hadn’t, he’d hovered near the table like he wasn’t sure how to act around me once we were the only two left.
We’d been part of a conversation circle earlier which I’d gone a bit too passionate about when they started discussing Brokeback Mountain. Since then we had been within vicinity. On one particular shared eye contact he’d blurted, “You look uhm, really fit.”
He may have said more but that’s all I remember before the flush crawled up my neck and my ears buzzed, that split-second of wanting to disappear.
I’d just said “what the fuck?” and walked off.
Gia had laughed about it later saying be was dorky. But she agreed, who the hell comments on a girl’s body like that? She said I should’ve cussed him out and gave me a few choice examples.
But I hadn’t been mad—just really uncomfortable. He’d crossed a line without realizing it but I know deep down he wasn’t trying to be an asshole.
The little I gathered about him made him out to be an awkward but nice guy with a British sense of humour. But I didn’t believe in excusing behaviour just because he was socially oblivious. So I made a point to avoid him since, even if my friends chatted him up at parties.
Now he’s in front of me again, same accent and awkward air about him, picking up his bike with an embarrassed half-smile.
“Sorry about that,” he says, his accent clips the ends of his words and they come out a bit like one word. “Didn’t see you there.”
“Yeah…that’s okay.” I take a step away from his chest.
Today he has on a black tee and jeans with a slight flare—if he was anyone else I would find them a bit tacky but with his accent and mop of hair I just chalk it up to something British I don’t understand. Like the Beatles, pretty sure they were British.
“I just have to find a place for this.” He says about his bike.
“Mhm…You and your bike seem pretty attached.“
Since last year (probably when he got it) I’d see him riding around campus all the time. Once walking home after a party with Gia we had spotted him pushing it alone. Probably also going home. Gia thought it was a little pathetic and thought we should walk together but I’d been firmly against it knowing I’d bear the brunt of his conversation.
“Gets me places,” he says about his bike. He sounds like he’s trying to be casual, but he looks like he’s not sure if I’ll cuss him out or bolt away.
I glance at Gia, who’s made herself scarce in the corner, mouth in a grimace with her arms crossed. Poor guy, she mouths.
She wasn’t the one he harassed—how easily she’s forgotten.
Harry glances to where I’m looking, to Gia, but I decide I was done talking to him.
“Anyway. We’re good. No harm done.”
I walk off before he can say anything else, feeling his gaze linger at my abrupt departure.
Gia rejoins me, bumping my shoulder as we walk off.
“Traitor.” I call her out.
“Are those a rosy pair of cheeks I see?”
“This is a rosy face because I had a collision and nearly took a handlebar to my gut. I nearly died?”
“Mhm sure.” Gia rolls her eyes. “You nearly died.”
“You would like that,” I say darkly. I can hear her smirk.
I tighten my grip on my tote and keep walking. By tomorrow, Fit Dude will be a forgotten memory. Probably.
***
The school’s social committee goes all out for a themed party. After all, we were a school known for partying and completely unashamed about that. My friends agree to meet at mine since I still lived closest to campus this year but I’m still finishing my hair when their frantic knocking sounds.
“Open!!” I hear their shouts. They were so dramatic.
“You’re not getting that are you?” I ask Gia.
“Nope.” She says and I just know she’s grinning behind her usual homemade bedsheet-ghost costume.
I roll my eyes, having to stop mid-pinning my hair to open the door. The rest of my friends spill into the room.
“Ready?!” Jackie asks.
“Almost!” I clip in a few more fake white streaks and let them take my costume in. I was the Ghosted to Gia’s basic Ghost.
“Ah!” Jackie points to the blue text bubble with the “delivered” symbol on it. “I get yours now! Clever!”
“It was a group effort.” I look back at myself in the mirror, white off-shoulder dress and to accessorize clip-on white streaks of hair, a black smokey eye, and chunky boots. I’d taped text bubbles all over me that were either “delivered” or “read at” to be Ghosted. I look behind me in the mirror reflection to where Gia sits in her unscary ghost costume and crack a smile. I can’t tell if she smiles back under the fabric.
“This is fun guys!” I turn to everyone. “Your costumes look epic!”
“Thank you,” Chai flexes.
“Oh I meant the group costume.” I stare at his bare chest under a khaki vest and shorts. Rope circles his body like a sash. Then I spot the hat in his hands. “Oh! Cowboy!?”
“Sexy cowboy.” He puts the hat on like they do in the movies.
“Sexy to people who forgot their glasses at home.” Saba mutters.
Saba’s dressed as Wednesday Adams, I know that one. And Jackie as another Adams character—it was probably her mother.
Finally I look at Matty, tall and a little stiff and dusty looking. “Frankenstein?”
My friends groan. “YN!”
“What!?” I hold my hands up. “He looks like him!”
I was helpless when it came to pop culture. I don’t know what it was—no matter how often friends sat me down and explained concepts or forced a movie down me, I always forgot. Luckily I wasn’t completely like that when it came to school. But I’m pretty sure I was hit by one of my brother’s footballs in the head growing up.
“Firstly,” Matty clears his throat. “You’re thinking of Frankenstein’s monster. Secondly, this is literally a group costume. I’m Lurch.”
“If you say so?” I grab my phone from my bed to take pictures. “Hey why didn’t Chai dress up for your group costume?”
“Why didn’t you?” He shoots back.
“Because I don’t know the characters clearly?”
“He would’ve wanted to be someone sexy and my character is already the sexiest,” Jackie says. I notice Matty eyeing her but I don’t blame him—she looked sexy in a black dress with a plunging neckline.
“Ooh. Sexy Gomez?” Saba says and they burst into laughter.
I don’t know what they mean but it turns into a fight with Chai. Which was never a hard thing to get into. He was always slightly defensive and slightly obsessed with himself.
Once we make it to the party, it’s easy to let loose with my friends. We only get two drink tickets so flasks are passed around like candy at Halloween. Matty makes us all laugh with his hilariously made up Lurch dance moves and I continue to annoy him by shouting “Go frankie, go frankie.”
In between the dancing and the banter amongst friends I try to look out for Leon. I know he was coming as Spiderman and every guy who brushes against me in a superhero costume is a reason for my heart to set off. But I don’t see him.
I do see other friends and we all comment on each other’s costumes. Mine is a hit, many friends with real looks of emotions on their face at the mention of being Ghosted.
Gia flits in and out from the crowd, she was always a shy dancer but I’m tipsy as I pull her into our group and force her to really use the eye cutouts on her sheet to keep up. We twirl around each other, Ghost and Ghosted, until Chai lifts me up away from her and twirls me drunkenly.
“Okay Mr. Abs.” I laugh when he puts me down. “You’ve got core strength we get it.”
“This is my fucking song!” He shouts out to Gia and me when Beyonce’s Single Ladies comes on. “Dance with me? You know the moves.”
Gia and I eye each other and shake our heads, ditching him. He finds another of his friends and forces him to play along.
“He’s drunk,” Gia comments.
“He is or he wouldn’t be that nice!” I laugh.
“Wish I could be,” I hear her say.
I swallow the lump in my throat, “Well I’m not drunk either. So that makes two of us.”
“Who’s not drunk?” A random guy beside me asks. “Let me get you a drink!”
“Spending one of your 2 precious tickets on me?” I gasp—okay maybe I was tipsy. “I can’t let you do that.”
He laughs at my sarcasm but his eyes don’t join. He’s annoyed. “Well show up at the Greek after party. Drinks on tap and find me there.”
“Oh I will.” I nod. Gia and I giggle as we walk away.
This was the school’s party but everyone knew the 3 Greek houses left on campus always threw the afterparty that most people headed to after a few hours here. That’s where my friends were going after this too—where Leon had invited me and I’d rejected him.
Ugh, fuck me.
“You’re thinking about Leon?” Gia shouts.
“No!”
“Liar!”
“Am not!”
“You should be thinking about bike boy,” she gives her shy smile.
“You like him!” I gasp.
“No!? But. He’s kind of sweet.”
“Do you not remember when he said I was fit?! He’s a total ass.”
“That was ages ago,” she says. “He’s been nice to you since.”
“Since? I’ve barely spoken to him.”
“There was that time last year when he listened to your story when everyone else stopped listening. About anemics remember? Or when he made fun of that prof who always picked on you and got kicked out of lecture? And he dropped Matty off that one time he got too drunk. Matty thinks he’s nice.”
“H-how do you know all this?” I glare. “He’s a weirdo! Stay out of it!”
I barely knew him.
“Matty?” She asks. “He’s loads better than Leon.”
“Ew! Gia! He’s our best friend. Plus, Jackie has a massive crush on him.”
“Fine. Chai?”
“Pretty sure he isn’t into women.”
“He might be.” She shrugs. “I’ve caught him checking some girls out from behind before.”
I stare at her in shock. She was more observant than I gave her credit for.
“Ew!” I shake my head of the image. “Can we not?”
She shrugs and says something about a drink before disappearing into the crowd. I’m alone so I go back to find the group again.
***
My friends and I walk to the after-party. The outside air brings me down from the high from earlier and reminds me I had a plan tonight. Operation get Leon Back.
The house is decorated like a five year old on a sugar high got loose—fake spiderwebs and jack-o-lanterns, even neon toxic waste? It’s like a halloween fever dream.
“I guess this is to be expected.” Jackie says about the decor.
I notice she’s walked with Matty the whole time here, both of them sharing whispers the rest of the group was too far to hear. Saba and I share a look when Chai complains about being stuck listening to us talk about our latest food find on campus. Both of us knew to hold him back from interrupting the budding romance with our friends.
We walk up the steps, already littered with empty drinks and people chatting around. The front door creaks open in true Halloween fashion and I’m hit with the smell of pumpkin spice candles, sweaty bodies, booze, and something burnt.
“This is going to give me a headache,” Jackie complains.
“We can go out back?” Matty suggests to her. “For fresh air.”
Saba and I glance again, hiding a laugh.
Gia skipped the after-party—said drunk crowds made her nervous. Really, I think she just didn’t like seeing me drink too much. She’d always been that way.
“Alright, crew,” I announce to my friends, adjusting my Ghosted costume, “I think I should find him. Leon. He’s here and I know it.”
“Your funeral,” Chai shrugs, heading off, “I will not be listening to you crying at tomorrow’s brunch.”
“Aw you’re joining brunch!?” Saba shouts after him. After big parties like this on campus it was our ritual to do brunch the day after. We debriefed and got over our hangovers. Chai rarely joined us but had been more often.
I look back at my friends.
Jackie’s Morticia dress (she told me the name later) swishes behind her, Saba’s Wednesday braid bounce as she moves, and Matty towers above everyone. I’m about to say something to convince them but I’m distracted when I see him.
Red and black webbing. Mask pulled up on his head so when he turns to look at the friend beside him I know it’s him. My own spider-sense tingling, heart doing stupid cartwheels.
Oh this was going to happen! A second chance!
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “Spiderman alert!”
And just like in a movie, his eyes land on me. I grin and wave, but he nods coolly in my direction before turning back to his friend dressed as Captain America.
“Asshole!” Jackie hisses in my ear.
“See,” Saba crosses her arms. “It’s not him. He is not the one. Promise.”
“You guys are being judgey now because he’s acting that way but he’s only acting that way because of a miscommunication.”
“He’s not. He’s just like that. We’ve been trying to tell you.”
“There’s so many costumed fish in the sea tonight. Forget him.” Jackie agrees.
“Yeah. Except don’t go for that fish,” Matty eyes some guy in a banana suit wearing PJs.
“Oh! Bananas in pyjamas!” I feel a flood of memories wash past me, watching the show as a kid with Gia and us play-acting the two. I forgot until now that we used to love them—we really have known each other since birth.
“Knows them but not Lurch.” I barely hear Matty say because my head feels full. Emotions and memories and bottled up secrets.
But I was good at compartmentalizing. I was good at putting the mess away. So I try to do just that.
Jackie’s hand lands on my elbow, her eyebrows up in worry. “YN?”
“We need to get her drunk,” Saba decides.
I snap out of it as their hands come down on my shoulders and force me to walk to where the drinks await.
We do some shots and then Jackie complains about the candles so Matty can be her saviour.
Which leaves Saba and I alone.
“You don’t have to babysit me b-t-dubs,” I say around a mouthful of jellybeans.
“It’s not like I’ve got somewhere to be!” She takes some of the jellybeans from my hand. “Anyway, Jackie and Matty hey? D’you think it’s happening tonight?”
We grin as conspirators and bump shoulders.
“Chai’s been acting funny too don’t you think?” I ask with loose lips. I purse them because this wasn’t me. I wasn’t the friend that pried and talked behind backs—people talked about their lives when they were ready.
“I thought the same thing!” Saba agrees. She’s oblivious to my regret. “Maybe he’d realizing we’re his only friends.”
“Wasn’t he dating someone?” Damn. I press my lips together again. What was in those shots?
“He was…very cagey about it. Maybe that’s why he’s hanging out again. They broke up? Maybe we’re just his rebound friends between people. Asshole.”
“Mhm,” I say because my lips were officially glued shut.
“Oh my parents got me on a facetime yesterday,” she turns to me. “Remember the potential divorce?”
“What!? Oh yeah!” I turn to her and tune into the story she tells. But every time I catch sight of Spiderman my heart stutters. I want to go to him—but Saba keeps refilling my drink, feeding me candy. We end up half an hour later, tipsy and sugar-high, swapping lore and gossip.
“Saba!?” Someone interrupts us on a particularly juicy detail about an affair.
“Huh!” She looks up, and then up again. An insanely tall dude stands beside us. When he notices both of us staring he blushes.
“Sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt the girl talk…uhm. Saba. You got a minute?”
I look at my friend with a question on my face. She mouths, Basketball Guy.
Ah. The guy she went on a few dates with before summer but she stopped when he kept ditching her for his practices. We all said he was hot enough to forgive—at least his ditching was showing his dedication to his sport. But Saba could be stubborn and she’d thrown out the roses he’d bought her to apologize.
“I support it,” I blurt. What was wrong with me? This is why Gia needed to come with me to this party. One look from her and I behaved.
Basketball guy chuckles and Saba glares.
“I’ll be a sec.”
“No take all the time you two need.” I push her butt forward towards him. “Seriously. I’m gonna go see what our other friends are up to.”
“Just don’t go looking behind closed doors,” she whispers and we laugh. I doubted Jackie and Matty would make it there tonight but we were just happy they were finally making excuses to be alone. “And don’t do anything stupid.”
Another drink later and the edges of the room blur just a little, the bass thumping in my chest like a drum. Courage—the kind you only get from cheap drinks and being alone, starts to wind up.
“Alright, Ghosted,” I murmur to myself, adjusting my hair and hoping my makeup still looks good. “Time to face your fear. Time to confess.”
I imagine Gia humming in approval even though my sober brain knows she thinks Leon is a hot piece with no substance. She was always picky with her crushes.
I weave through the crowd, dodging a drunk zombie who almost uses me as a prop and Chai, who’s using his rope to flirt and doesn’t see me slip past at all.
Then I see him in his red and black mask looking out the window while someone dressed as a Squid Game character speaks to him. After pointing to his watch Squid person leaves but the room shifts and I have to hold on to the wall to keep upright. Oh god.
I squint back at my target. I could do this. I would go up there and confess it all and finally have a college boyfriend.
My stomach flops. My fingers tingle. This was it.
I tap him on the shoulder.
“Hey,” I start, voice cracking slightly from nerves and alcohol. “Hi. I—uh, I need to say something? And please don’t interrupt because I will literally chicken out.”
He turns, I kind of wish his mask was pulled up again so I can read his expression but maybe this was also good. Talking to him without seeing feelings or reactions. I would only know at the end.
I just wish Gia was here so she can watch from afar and we can compare notes.
My mouth opens and words tumble out like a broken faucet, faster than I can stop them.
“I—okay, so I know this is probably weird, but firstly I did not mean to reject you the other day? I just didn’t expect it and…I’m really bad? At this stuff? I’ve gotten a lot better with the help of my friends but I’m a bit awkward and I guess some might say I can be socially stunted which I don’t think I am. It just…well it’s not really my fault even if I was—according to my therapist. Who I don’t see because I’m crazy or anything! Or maybe I am? Maybe I am…”
Even through the mask I can tell his eyebrows are doing a lot. Eventually he just gives me a slow nod—attentively. It feel encouraging. Supportive. He’s listening perfectly just like I imagined he would.
My words trip over themselves, “Well I say that because…my best friend. In the whole wide world. Who I love so much like even now I love her insanely and well—she died? Yep. She died when we were like 13, and I never really got over it.”
His hand flexes on his…it might be swords. Spiderman had swords? But the thoughts are absorbed by my verbal diarrhea.
“I never really made friends after that. Until now in college that is…it was probably something about getting out of my hometown, but I still talk to her y’know—Gia? And I see her all the time. She was the best, she was so smart beyond her years and observant as hell. She could walk into any room and like read it and crack a joke to make everyone laugh? She was good at that even though we were like, awkward budding teens and…”
I gulp in more breath because now that it’s out it’s really pouring out.
“I guess she’ll always be a teen. I’m really fucking scared about turning 20 next year now that I mention it because I feel like I’ll be leaving her behind? So I take her with me all the time. I talk to her constantly. She’s…she’s still my best friend. And so all of that to say I’m a little fucked up? And I don’t always know the right thing to say? Clearly. And sometimes I don’t read situations right so when you asked if you should drive me to this party I like, I thought you were just offering a ride? And…”
He straightens as I continue, his hand scratching his head. Maybe I’m saying too much. Reel it in. Wrap it up!
“I wasn’t saying no to you, per se. I just didn’t know you were asking me out? So I would love to. Go out sometime if you wanted? If you’re not totally scared of me now. Lol….anyway yeah, I’ve had so much fun getting to know you in study group and you’re funny and I like the way you make me feel. Um…yeah!”
I expect him to take off the mask and say something. After all I had just unloaded a ton of shit. Oh—
“You can talk now by the way. Permission granted—no chance of me chickening out now!”
“Umm,” is all he says. His voice sounds rougher, not as deep. Maybe it’s the drinks? I-
At that moment, someone comes up to us dressed as another superhero probably—full suit in yellow with claws on his knuckles. “Yo, Wade! We’ve been waiting for you at the pool table are you not playing?”
I look at this new superhero and Leon—no, Wade?
I didn’t know a lot but I at least knew Spiderman’s name was Peter Parker. Well I knew this after Leon told me who he was coming as and I looked it up.
“Wade?” I ask the new guy. He looks at me like I’m an idiot.
“Yeah? Deadpool?” He points to…Deadpool.
“What the fuck? I thought th-that was Peter Parker?” I ask.
“What the fuck?” New guy asks Deadpool. “Forget it just play the next round, fuck this.”
He stalks off and I just stare at this complete stranger I’ve told my deepest secrets to. Not even all my friends knew all of this. Oh my god.
I feel the panic flood up into my chest, my lungs collapsing on themselves. Everything about me laid bare here and I-I-
“Breathe,” Deadpool’s arms come around me and I want to shove him off but I can’t. I already know to fold over, concentrate on something and breathe. I end up staring at a piece of confetti stuck to my shoes and slowly I lower myself against the side of the sofa while I catch my breath.
I touch my throat with my fingers, slipping down to the necklace I always wore. The one I had shared with Gia when we were 12–two halves of a heart. Hers was somewhere underground in the town we called home. That she still called home.
Holy fuck.
I remember where I am. The person—Deadpool, had settled on the small slice of floor with me. Probably feeling responsible. I squeeze my eyes shut before looking up at who I’d just fucked myself over with.
Oh my god. Of course it’s him.
“Look I’m sorry but for a lot of that I genuinely thought you were talking to me,” he says in his stupid fucking British accent. His mask is pulled up just like Leon’s had been and I want to yank it off entirely and tear it to shreds.
“Why didn’t you—“ I break off. How did he think—“Why the hell would I be telling you those things!?”
“I don’t know! You told me not to talk! I thought it was going somewhere else-“
“Why would I be telling you about my dead best friend!” I shout. “What the fuck!”
“I-I’m sorry!” He holds his hands up. “I’m truly sorry! I’m obviously not spiderman though I don’t even have the-the spider on my-“
I impulsively snatch the mask off his head when he bows down to point at his shirt, accidentally grabbing a fistful of hair.
“Ow!” He yanks forward.
“Sorry!” I blurt but the mask is finally in my hands.
He rubs the top of his head with a weary look towards me, and I remember all the times he watched me like this—like I would punch him for saying something stupid. I guess I just confirmed that I could even though I didn’t mean to.
I stare at the mask in my hands. It’s different, I guess. Both red with white and black eyes but I guess if I knew what a Deadpool was I’d know. I wish my friends were here they would know.
No, I realize. They wouldn’t have let me have this whole confession thing happen in the first place. Maybe I should’ve listened to them.
“You were saying things you probably needed to say.” Fit Guy says more to himself than me, and my attention goes back to him. “Didn't think it mattered who was behind the mask."
I look down at the stupid mask that ruined everything. I hated Deadpool, I decide.
“Plus, you were on a roll. Would've been rude to interrupt your TED Talk.”
I stare at him in surprise, the nerve he had. But his face is so earnest, like an open book who would just as well receive me cussing hime out just to say what he wanted to say. It reminds me a little of myself. Of Gia. Of the ways my inner thoughts always come out from Gia.
Gia, I clench my jaw so I don’t randomly start crying. It would be 6 years in November and I don’t know how time flew by like this. How I kept getting older and she kept getting left behind.
“You’re not Spiderman.” Is the thing that comes out of my mouth.
He laughs softly, somehow hearing my words despite the chaos around us. Actually, in this corner of the living room between the couch and lamp it’s quite tucked away. It’s a good place to nearly have a panic attack I guess.
“Wrong masked idiot.” He says.
I look at him, take in his eyes that are a few shades of green like moss and seaglass and his cheekbones that jump out in the Halloween lighting. The scruff on his face is uneven like it just started growing back in tonight, and his hair’s a flattened mess from being in the mask. His face isn’t perfect, a little uneven like he grew into it too fast but the longer you look at it the more it grows on you.
I shouldn’t look at it too long.
And, I realize, for someone who now knows the words I keep trapped in the basement of my heart, I still didn’t know his name.
“Named?”
“Huh?” He snaps out of whatever daze he was in.
“A masked idiot named…?”
“Deadpool? Oh—Wade.”
My brows scrunch, was he really that daft?
“Oh! My name? H-Harry? Did you not know that?”
“No you were just Fit Dude to me.” I say without thinking. My eyes widen and snap to his. He smirks.
“Like…you think I’m fit?”
“What?!” I throw his mask at him—whip it actually. “Why would I—what is your obsession with bodies a-and fitness?!”
“Huh? Fitness?” He asks before something dawns on him. He throws his head back and lets out a laugh I didn’t even think he would be capable of. It’s loud and authentic and not awkward at all as he tips back into the wall. His mask slides off his lap and I reach for it again just to have something in my hands.
“What!?” I say but his laugh is contagious and I chuckle, watching him lose it. “Why are you laughing!?”
“Oh my god,” he wipes tears out of his eyes. His dark forest-y eyes. “Oh no. You misunderstood. Fit means like…attractive? I think? Like you say someone’s fit like they look good, they look oh—fine! Yeah. Hot?”
Oh my god, I blush. He was calling me good looking (hot!?) that day and I totally flipped out. Had written him off since.
I imagine the look Gia would give me. Something like I told you he wasn’t a bad guy, and you judge too quickly.
“Jeez,” I swear.
“So why do you call me…Fit?” He asks.
“Well,” I cover my face. This was embarrassing. But not as embarrassing as everything I just told him—what was there to lose. “Well you called me fit once in like first year and I thought you were commenting on my body? And I…”
A giggle escapes me. The ridiculousness of it all just hits me right then and I hunch in laughing until tears stream down my cheeks. He joins in and we laugh until our stomachs hurt and I’m pretty sure all the alcohol has run out of my eyes.
“This is so fucking ridiculous,” I say when I finally calm down. “I’m—look, I’m sorry. I’ve probably been an ass to you. I thought you were an ass.”
“Who said I wasn’t?” He raises his brows.
I study him again, he could be. But he’d also completely dashed any reaction I thought someone might have to me spilling my deepest darkest secrets and turned this into something to laugh about. It’s like Gia kept trying to insist—I knew deep down somewhere he was a nice person. I didn’t think he would ever hold this against me. I was just holding onto my biases for far too long.
“Somehow,” I twist my mouth. “I don’t know if you are?”
“Oh I am,” he insists. “Always say the wrong things at the wrong times. Don’t always read the room. Get awkward around pretty girls and say shite like they’re fit without thinking of how it might sound. Oh, and crash my bike into said girls. Total total ass.”
He says it like arse which I giggle at again. Stop laughing, you’re going to look certifiable.
But he’s smiling softly at me, like I could be certifiable and he would just think it was cute.
Damn. I should go.
“Well, my friends are probably looking for me,” I try to stand but sway instead. He’s there—Harry, to keep me steady.
“Maybe get some water down?”
I wave his suggestion down. “Don’t go being all helpful now.”
“Right. Arse behaviour only.”
Another giggle escapes me and I slap my hand to my mouth.
“You can laugh,” he grins. “If it’s funny.”
“Nope,” I uncover my mouth. “No man is this funny. I’m just drunk. And I have to go.”
He looks like he wants to say something but he stops himself.
“What?”
He shakes his head. “Are you supposed to be uh, being ghosted?”
“Yeah!” I nod. “And the dress actually is off the shoulder which is also known as cold shoulder so I thought it was a clever double…”
I trail off. Why was I suddenly so loose lipped!
“That’s cool. You reckon Gia would have dressed up the same?”
My heart stutters—it’s strange hearing her name coming out of a stranger’s mouth. But the way he asks, it feels like she’s here again. Like he knew her.
His face drops as he realizes, “Shit sorry if that-“
“She would.” I say. “Actually every Halloweens she dresses up as a ghost. White bedsheet and all.”
It was the last thing she dressed up as at 13. Like she knew that would be her legacy.
I know I sound crazy. Certifiable. But just like I thought, his eyes stay steady on me, a small smile on his lips. My stomach does a strange flip, and I feel unfamiliar in my body suddenly. I feel expansive and like everything is overflowing and shy that maybe others can see all this happening.
But it’s dimly lit and everyone’s busy with their own Halloween business. The only person looking is him. Harry.
His lips part, “Ghost and Ghosted.”
I press my lips together and smile. He got it.
“H-how did she? Die?”
I swallow the lump, always finding the moment hard to talk about. “Uhm, car. It was a…car.”
“Well.” He nods like he can see I was on the verge of falling apart again. “She sounds like someone I’d get along with. Sounds very cool.”
“She would like you,” I say without thinking. Gia did like him.
We both blush.
“I should go.” I say again. I take a few steps out so that I’m no longer in the corner with him. I miss it as someone’s elbow jostles into me from the side. “But hey next time a stranger starts confessing to you in the dark, take the mask off?”
“Next time,” he inches closer so we don’t have to shout. “You should check under the mask before you start confessing.”
“Good point.”
“A-and maybe you should talk about your friend more often. In general. So it doesn’t all come vomiting out to a stranger like that?”
My mouth falls open and he bites back a laugh.
“You really are an ass.” I say even though I know what he was trying to say. And it’s oddly touching. Fit Dude was growing on me.
“Arse behaviour only.” He grins because he knows me enough now to know it makes me laugh.
But I don’t give him the point, smiling instead because I can’t help it.
I take the point instead when I take the mask I’d picked up from the ground and get close to him, so close that the smile drops from his face. I raise my hands above his head and then slip the mask back on, and it’s a little crooked but it’s just like before. Like all of this never happened. With the mask on I don’t see what his mossy eyes look at me with or how his cheeks flush when I pat his face twice and walk away back into the crowd.
I’d find my friends, and head home. Home to Gia to tell her all about this and how she was right. She was usually right.
I catch Matty’s tall Lurch frame in the back of a room and head towards it. I brush against Spiderman at the door and hesitate, heart pumping. But when he looks at me I feel small. Like I’m trying to measure up. I realize that’s how I’ve been feeling ever since we started studying together. That’s how I’ve felt with most guys I’ve crushed on.
“Nice costume,” I say to him and continue pushing past.
“Hey, wait!” I hear him calling after me.
I turn out of surprise, maybe I’d gotten the wrong person again—Leon would never call me back.
But it’s him alright.
“What are you doing?” He asks. “Now.”
“Oh,” I turn back to Lurch. “Just going back to my friends. Heading home soon.”
His eyes travel to where I point and something hard takes over his features.
“You’re just sticking with your friends all night? No…date or anything?”
“Sort of and…nope.”
His jaw ticks. “You know YN you’re hot but…not that hot.”
I’m so shocked by the words coming out of his mouth that I don’t say anything at first. But as I get over my shock I see how pathetic Leon is—hot but no substance.
“Well that’s fine,” I shout as I start moving back to my friends. “I’d rather be fit than just hot.”
I turn away from Leon’s confused disgust with a grin and leave him behind. My friends were right, and so was Gia. What was I thinking?
I just thank whatever was out there for my cursed memory when it came to pop culture. Thankful that my confession had landed on Deadpool’s ears rather than Spiderman’s. Thankful for do-overs and second chances and British boys who might be asses but were asses with a good heart.
“You look like you’ve got a story to tell,” Jackie welcomes me with an open arm when I reach them. I spy a bruise on her neck and flick her on it.
“You too.”
“Ow!”
“Hey!” Chai leans in, slurring his words. “Leave the scoop for brunch guys. I’m too drunk right now.”
We laugh at our strange friend but agree to leave then like we came, together. I catch Harry’s eye as we go—he’s at the pool table bending down to assess his move. He stands up when he catches sight of me and I don’t know what comes over me as I make an “o” with my fingers and mouth one word to him,
Fit.
I swear I hear his infectious laugh even outside the door. It lingers in a soft corner of my heart.
i just wanna say i finished pt of TST and you write so beautifully! you do a great job of painting a picture and story that i could fully immerse myself in, it didn’t feel so long but also felt like i had been reading for forever (in the best way possible) i haven’t read a story that well written in a while and i just wanted to give you the praise you deserve! i’m excited to see the growth you give them and i beg of you to end the angst (even tho i love it so so much!) and give us fluff, you’ve already added some fluff in pt 2 so well that ik whatever more tou create will be GREAT! thank you again ♥️
Thank you for writing out such a kind message!!! It’s lowkey always a shock and a pleasure that people enjoy or even just read what I write! It feels like an edited word vomit that needs to be out of my head a lot of the times so seeing msgs like this I really appreciate it!!! 😭💗
A/N: posting the rest of chtp 3 as a half chpt because it got cut off due to tumblr limits. Hoping to publish 4 before the glorious month of Aug is over Thank you all for sticking w it xx
Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 3.5 / 4
Word Count: ~13k
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The pool party lands on a perfectly summer day; the sun beams down like a target and there’s just enough of a breeze so you don’t feel like you might die of hear. There are more people here than I thought, I guess everyone brought a plus one a few times over.
The crowd mostly know each other but everyone definitely knows coach who mans the grill for lunch before promising everyone he would leave us alone. He’s a loud presence that a lot of his team-old and new, hover around for a while.
Juni and I have been hanging out since I arrived, drifting between dipping our feet in the empty pool and sitting around the massive outdoor table full of food and drink, talking about random stuff: old memories, her long-distance relationship—mostly gossip, as per.
It’s strange, actually, how things are starting to feel somewhat normal again. It almost feels like we’d never even left uni with the crowd here and my best friend by my side. We talk about how much Rhia’s missing out and what to do when she comes down.
It’s a comforting idea—having my best friends back in our hometown for a time before heading off to our normal lives. And I’m happy Juni’s getting along with Dana now despite Dana being a bit of a wildcard.
Over the weeks she’s mellowed out a bit with Harry but she still gives him crumbs to work with. I see him still trying to talk to her, getting her a drink at a party or offering her a ride home. It’s sweet seeing him try—makes me think he could put in the effort to have a good thing.
I spotted Harry soon after I got to the party—his face lit up when he saw me and I gave him a proper wave but turned to scan for Juni right after. I couldn’t handle talking to him that early on, especially not in this house. I barely made it through to the back door without being overwhelmed with the memories.
Plus, I was still deciding whether I wanted to change the borders of us this summer. He must have gotten the hint because he hasn’t bothered Juni or I all afternoon.
We’re by the pool when people start jumping in and can’t avoid getting splashed, laughing as some people try to cannonball in. It was a huge pool, fitting for the grandeur of the house inside.
“I would die to have grown up in this place,” Juni leans back and kicks her legs in the pool. She’s in a deep purple one-piece paired with shorts we bought together this week. She rocks it with her usual confidence. “Can you imagine?”
“Yeah,” all I can imagine is the bedroom upstairs and I’m glad I’m wearing a coverup so my full-body flushes can’t be seen from outer space.
“You don’t sound like you care,” Juni laughs.
“No sorry,” I shake my head. “It’s just weird as hell being back here.”
“Sorry,” she grimaces. “We can go home early-“
“No not like that.” I correct. “I think I’m just…torn about what to do—a part of me feels like I should have figured this all out sooner. There’s only a few weeks left of summer…”
“Well you had to find out what kind of person he’d become.”
“But that’s the thing I have no idea if he’s fully changed?” I admit. “You can’t stop being like, a commitment-phobe that quick can you?”
She shrugs, “I don’t think so. Hey d’you think that weed guy I nearly set you up with is here tonight? That would be a major throwback.”
“Oh god,” I hated that night. “Definitely not. Coach is inside pretty sure his nephew’s smart enough not to invite the local dealer.”
“That’s not stopping people,” she scrunches her nose. “Just watch when the sun goes down. Everyone will forget Coach is inside. Coach will have to forget he’s inside!”
As the sun starts to dip, the mood shift as she predicted, settling into something a bit more relaxed. A third of the party trickles away to another and who’s left do seem to know each other solidly.
I see Harry standing with a group near the edge of the patio, talking to a few people, but he looks up and his eyes lock on mine. He’s always had a way of finding my gaze in a crowd. For a second, it’s like time slows down—a momentary pause. I catch the tiniest glint in his eyes—it’s humorous, something private between us—and I can’t help but smile, even if it’s just a little. My stomach does somersaults.
Juni, who’s been paying attention, nudges me, her voice low but amused. “Oi, what was that? Some sort of secret club?”
I try to laugh it off, my cheeks warming slightly. “Don’t read into it.”
She raises an eyebrow and asks in a skeptical voice. “You’ve spent the last 2 days reading into all this yeah?”
I look at Harry again, who’s still standing with that group, beer in hand. I try to focus back on Juni. “That’s different,” I say, but even I can tell its insincerity. “Honestly, it’s just been nice…getting along better now. As friends.”
“So that’s the story? Just friends?” Her eyes narrow, clearly not buying it. “Friends don’t look at each other like that you should know.”
“Shut up Juni!” I give her a playful shove. “We’ve caught eyes many times over the years.”
“Yeah but we’re best friends. We communicate with the eyes when we’re across the room, especially at parties! You two have been friends a few weeks and are doing that already.”
I laugh because I remember Harry’s comment about the girly details. “Are you jealous?”
“I am so telling Rhia,” she hugs her knees. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Fine. He’s not as bad as he used to be! That’s all!”
“And?”
I sigh. “I don’t know if I can trust it. Or trust myself?”
Juni glances back over at Harry, who’s talking to someone now, and sighs. “He seems different but then again he was always weirdly different around you.”
“Meaning?”
“Well remember when Rhia gave us the scoop? How you were the first person he ever hung out with more than once. Like at a time?“
Yeah, until the night I freaked out. “I do. But my baggage was too much. And even at the end of the year-“
“Yeah when he told you to come to the game and totally shoved his tongue down another girl’s throat?”
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“You felt like shit for weeks after.”
“Like, one week.” I correct. So dramatic. “It’s weird we work so well as friends-“
Juni snorts. When I spray her with water she splashes me back. “You guys are friends by name. Everyone with a brain can tell you guys don’t just feel friendly for each other.”
“Seriously? Is it obvious?”
Juni thinks for a second before answering, “Okay maybe not maybe I just know you really well. But why ruin it if you work as friends?”
“That’s the question!” I exclaim. “But lately I’ve just felt like…maybe it’s worth trying?”
“Because he apologized for hooking up with that Lana chick?”
“Lena and yeah and no.” I grow frustrated. “We’ve finally built stable ground, summer’s almost over? Maybe we owe it to just give in to it?”
“That sounds like you just need someone to get with. In between the sheets.” She cackles. I throw myself back down onto the towel and she muffles her laugh. “Okay fine. Obviously you’ve made up your mind. Just be careful. Like, maybe everything’s just been calm because it’s not serious for him. Once you guys cross that friends line he could bolt—are you okay with that?”
“I dunno,” I moan. “Probably not. Maybe? God.”
“You’re a mess babe.”
“I know.” I stare up into the changing sky, taking some deep breaths as the world moves on around me.
I sit up again and Juni’s smiling at her phone. Probably her boyfriend.
“That’s what I’m worried about. That he’ll avoid me again, or I’ll start expecting more of him until he inevitably disappoints me. I don’t know how to just be chill anymore.”
“Sure you do,” Juni says with eyes still on her phone. “You’ve been chill about being his friend all summer and you barely freaked out to Rhia and me. Just see if it feels right. But I can’t emphasize enough to be careful. Protect your heart first.”
She squeezes my knee. And I lean my head onto her shoulder.
We settle into a silence. The evening had turned into night and there were string lights on throughout the backyard. Juni and I are still plenty lit from the lights in the pool. At this point there’s a couple making out in the deep-end but otherwise everyone’s scattered elsewhere. We stay on our towels beside the pool.
Dana catches my eye from the drinks table and motions if we wanted any. I nudge Juni and she gives her a thumbs up.
“You know, Dana’s actually pretty cool. Why didn’t we hang out with her in high school?”
I laugh a little at Juni’s question. “I don’t know. I think she was more shy then but I keep asking myself the same thing.”
She looks thoughtful. “Guess we were all caught up in our own shite, huh?”
“Better late than never, I suppose.” We watch Dana leave the conversation she was in. “She kept to herself a lot. I mostly saw her at parties with Harry.”
“Did anything ever actually happen between them?”
“I…” I remember the brief conversation at the cinema. “Don’t think so. Plus I think she’s mostly into girls.”
“That’s right. She was telling me about a girl she’s had a crush on for ages when I asked if she was dating anyone.”
“Oh,” Dana and I didn’t really talk to me about her love life—I tried asking once and she told me she was chronically single. I’m surprised how quickly she’s taken Juni into her confidence.
Now that I think about it, she’s always liked Juni. And then it hits me as she hands us our drinks and sits beside us blushing as Juni teases her about something and cheers’ her bottle.
I keep my mouth shut though and let their banter play out. I catch Harry’s eye again and this time he’s walking away from his group and the look holds no trace of a joke. It’s more serious, like he wants to talk.
Maybe we have been dancing around this tension for too long.
I turn to the girls, half-smiling. “I’ll be right back.”
“Alright,” Juni says, her gaze lingering on me for a second. “Take it chill.”
“What?” Dana asks, looking around and her eyes landing on Harry. “Really?”
“Don’t sound so disappointed,” I laugh in a huff. “I’m just gonna go talk to him.”
I don’t think I believe myself. Not entirely.
“I’m getting a bit chilly should we go in?” Dana asks Juni.
And so we part ways.
Harry and I find each other near the edge of the garden. The buzz of the party’s still in the background, but it feels quieter here, away from the main group. Less pressure.
“So I think,” Harry says, looking down at his drink for a moment, “you’ve been avoiding me tonight.”
“If I was avoiding you I wouldn’t have shown up at all.”
“Then why are we only just talking now.”
“I-“ I look to Juni and Dana walking towards the house. Dana’s saying something, leaning into my best friend who’s oblivious to the crush that’s been blossoming before her for who knows how long. “I’ve just been hanging out with the girls. You could have joined me any time too.”
“True.” He stalls. “But I…thought you were avoiding me. So I didn’t come to you.”
I clutch my drink harder. “So it’s just a cycle.”
“Not that I fully blame you. I was weird at the bookstore the other day.”
“You were.” I don’t deny it. I guess he was being serious again. I never fully know what to expect when he got like this—I liked it because it made me feel like I could open up about myself without it being turned into a joke. On the other hand, he could get unserious so quickly it gives me whiplash.
“It’s mad. A month ago, I didn’t think I’d end up spending so much time with you this summer. Or-or ever again.”
I feel a small pit form in my stomach. “Neither did I.”
He glances up at me. “I’m actually glad we did though.”
I look at him with my full attention, he’s in shorts and a white tee I don’t think he actually got in the pool today. He looks sun-kissed, the kind you can only get under the blissful heat of a social summer day. But his eyes speak a different story, a ship in stormy weathers.
“M’glad we became friends YN. I mean, there’s a reason we got along once.”
“Don’t know about that,” I tease. “Maybe it’s because we stopped hating each other?”
“I never hated you,” he says, his voice leaking genuine anguish. “But I don’t blame you if you did—I was a bit of a nob.”
“Just a bit,” I laugh. “But no…well—I’m lying. I did hate you for a short time there, but mostly because I hated the way I was behaving.”
“You were going through a lot.” He comments. “I didn’t help.”
“I know. Well…you did until you really bloody didn’t.”
He laughs at that. And when it dies down there’s that tension in the air again. He’s standing a little closer than he was a few minutes ago, and I can feel the warmth between us. Those molecules seem fully settled in now, we’re just steadily in the present moment.
It’s weird how he’s stood still long enough this summer for us to be able to get to this point. That neither of us managed to fuck this up.
But did that mean I shouldn’t redefine us at all—just let us exist in this. Because maybe redefining us meant triggering who we are when things got complicated between us. Those two versions weren’t compatible…or they never used to be.
He clears his throat, his hand brushes my arm as he shifts, and for a second, my pulse jumps and it feels like the whole world’s narrowed. Neither of us move.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this and you’re not even holding me hostage but I’m gonna miss this,” he says in a hushed voice.
“Yeah?” I ask, trying to hide the smile that’s tugging at my lips. “You’re gonna miss hanging around with me?”
“Don’t let it get to your head yln,” He meets my gaze, “but yeah. You’re not so bad.”
I laugh softly. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
The words hang between us for a moment, heavy and thick. His next words come out in a rush, like he wasn’t sure he was going to say them at all:
“I regret the way I treated you more than you know.”
Silence, except for the sounds from the party. When he opens his mouth to continue I cut him off.
“Please—we don’t have to do all this here, Harry,” my voice is sharper than I intend. But I don’t want to relive that version of us. I don’t want to dive back into the past. I liked it here. “How much did you have to drink?”
“Not a lot!” He’s almost defensive, eyes wide as he looks at me. “I’m not even drunk. I just...I just want to put it out there.”
“Alright yeah, whatever,” I say, trying to distance myself from the conversation.
I don’t want to talk about the shit that happened back then. It reminds me of that night, the last party that’s etched in my mind, the one I desperately wish I could forget. I wanted us to just be this version of us. I didn’t want to think of the version of me that had genuinely been hurt by him, that ached a little for what he did for me. I didn’t like her when I held her up against who I was now—who we were now.
Harry’s doesn’t waver, though. He’s not letting me brush this off. “You’re right. It’s always me at the center of all my unresolved shite. I don’t show up like I should. For my friends too. And I didn’t mean to hurt you even more, especially when you were in such a bad place.”
I feel hollowed out, “well I’m right as rain now.” I can’t help but pull my arms across my chest, as if I can physically hold the old wounds at bay.
But he just doesn’t stop.
“Don’t do that,” Harry says, his voice soft but firm. He looks at me with this...intensity, like he‘s trying to see through my armor. And all I could think was, when did he grow up and how is he so serious about this. “Don’t talk about it if you don’t want but don’t play it off.”
“And why not? Isn’t that what you always do?” I snap and hate that he’s triggering me exactly where I fake-healed.
He looks a little stunned, I don’t blame him. He studies my face, like he’s seen me for a long time; it feels like it might crack something wide open.
My heart rate picks up. I swallow past the lump forming in my throat, trying to steady myself.
“I’m not asking for forgiveness, or anything,” Harry continues past my outburst. “It’s like with Dana, I can’t force you to not feel how you feel right? But I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I never really said it before. I never meant to make you feel like that.”
For a long moment, neither of us say anything.
Eventually, I take a step back, trying to find a way out of the uncomfortable silence. “Thanks. It’s whatever now. I’m not asking for…all this.” I don’t know if I’m trying to shut him down or protect myself, or both. Because I don’t know what I want from him—if I did it would be easier to just decide to let it all go.
Being here at this house knowing the way he felt long ago, his whispered confessions only to betray me the next day…it’s scary the power someone holds over you if you give them your heart and I’d done it unknowingly last year.
He says my name, ready to insist on his apology more. I cut him off but he doesn’t look away. “Alright, fine. Just know…I’m not the same guy I was back then. I really am sorry.”
“I get it. It’s fine. We were different then. I’m not really holding any of that against you.”
The not really slips out like my heart had taken it personally that I’ve been ignoring her and she wants it all out. I pray he doesn’t catch it. But of course he does.
“Not really holding it against me?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
I try to shrug it off. “Yeah like…I’m not. I don’t.”
“Liar,” his eyes glint with curiosity as he leans in. “What are you holding against me? I want to make it right.”
“Nothing!” I snap too quickly.
“Tell me!” His face lights up with playful challenge. “I’ll make you tell me there’s a pool right there!”
“Stop! It’s nothing—I’m fine!” I raise my voice, but I can’t suppress the smile.
“Please!” he insists.
“Harry.”
“Please! Tell me!”
“No!” I try to match his tone but it comes out too harsh.
He stops, looking at me with a mixture of confusion and concern, but maybe a little embarrassment too.
“Well, obviously you’re fine,” sarcasm drips in his voice as he looks away.
“Sorry I just don’t want to go down that road, okay!?” I try to say it lightly. “I just want to forget certain things. It makes no sense to go over them.”
He watches me for a second, as if he can tell something’s not right. “Well, at least if you tell me, I have the opportunity to clear my air so there’s no bad blood between friends.”
Friends, I nearly scoff. I don’t respond and he stoops low to make eye contact so he can tell me, “I can let you know I didn’t mean it. Because I’m sure I didn’t mean whatever I said.”
“That would just make this worse,” I mumble, wishing immediately I could take my words back. What the fuck was wrong with me!!
“For—what?” His eyes stay locked on me, and I know he hears me, despite my best attempt to hide behind the words.
“Did I—”
I try to cover it up, but I can feel it tightening in my chest. “It’s nothing. Ignore me.”
He doesn’t, though. “I said something? Is it from that football game?”
“Oh my god,” I groan, burying my face in my hands. “No. No, none of that.”
“During the dance-“
“No—what? Did you say something then?” We hadn’t spoken for weeks by the time school prom happened.
“No,” he says too quickly. “Well, before that…” He pauses to think of our timeline, and I can see the realization dawning on him. I want to die.
His eyes widen slightly, I can practically hear the click in his mind. “Wait…it’s the party here, isn’t it?”
My stomach twists, and my cheeks flush. I feel like I could just vanish into the ground. Not this! Not the party I’ve spent months trying to forget. The one that’s haunted me ever since I remembered it.
I look up at him, trying to avoid his gaze, but I can feel his eyes on me, searching for answers.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost apologetic. “I didn’t realize you…remembered what I…said.”
The air leaves my lungs but I try to get a breath in.
“I didn’t,” I’m surprised my voice doesn’t shake. “Might’ve been placebo. But I didn’t remember at first. But then it all caught up to me during the summer and…”
My breath catches, and suddenly the world feels smaller, like it’s closing in on me. I don’t want to hear this and relive it, but I can’t escape it. His words from that night echo in my mind—whispered between breaths, promises of forever, when I knew damn well it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. It never was.
I wonder if he’s dying right now too, regretting pushing this. Overlaying that version of us over this one just makes me have this sense of doom—like this is the thing that’s going to make us implode again.
But what he says next shocks me into stillness.
“Fucking hell YN. I wish you said something. I—I meant it. In some fucked up way, I did.” His voice chokes and he’s looking at me like he’s made up my mind. “I just didn’t know how to stand behind my words though. And…and I’m still learning.”
He steps closer, his body inches from mine. He’s made up his mind, have I made up mine?
“Look? I feel like I’ve said it a thousand different ways, but I’m trying,” he says, his tone full of mixed emotions. He reaches for my hand, and the shock of warmth spreads through my body.
I pull back, a little though, just enough to maintain some space because otherwise my body would fall towards his.
“But what does it matter?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. “We have what? Weeks left? What is this? Us—now? I know how this ends. We don’t last past summer. We’re never the right time, Harry.”
He doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans in closer, his forehead just inches from mine. “We’ve got shit time,” he says, his voice low and earnest. “But I’m done pretending like there’s nothing here.”
And in that moment, I realize how much I’m trying to deny what’s right in front of me too. How intense his feelings have remained and what a good job he was doing ignoring them for the sake of my request at a friendzone.
Why him? Why did everything always circle back down to him.
It has always been there though: the pull, the connection between us. It’s there, undeniable, no matter how hard I try to fight it.
I had to decide. But before I can, Harry’s voice cuts through the silence again, “I’m not asking for anything right now. I just want to be real with you. And apologize. Sober. Or mostly sober. I don’t want any regrets.”
“I know,” I whisper, but I’m not sure I really do.
For a long moment, we just stand there, not saying anything, our conversation having said enough. Eventually, Harry steps back slightly. He gives me a soft smile.
“Maybe we should get back to the party,” he says, his voice light but his gaze heavy with his inner desire.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Maybe.”
He shuffles to the side and I regrettably follow out of the garden and towards the pool again.
The silence hangs between Harry and I, but I feel it—the flutter in my chest, the pressing, unanswered question of what if. What if we just—what if we were brave enough to try again? What if we weren’t so scared of the inevitable heartbreak that’s bound to come? What if I wasn’t?
He won’t make the first move, I realize. Not after I asked him to leave me alone, to step back if he wasn’t willing to commit. I was harsh, and I know it. I needed to be. And since he’s been trying to show me how much he’s grown he won’t disrespect my boundaries. Shit.
But I don’t want to mess this up either, yet in this moment I feel like I'm already breaking the rules. I should leave, walk away, but I can’t, even if it scares the hell out of me.
I don’t trust myself.
But I want this one thing—just this one thing—so badly. This thing between his lips and mine. It’s almost unbearable.
I turn to him, question on my lips, “You know what I-“
Before I can finish and before I can comprehend the cheeky smile on his face I’m falling off the edge of the pool and sinking into the cold waters.
As soon as I break the surface and get my gasping out of my system I swear at him.
“You idiot!” I continue to shout but he’s laughing. “Why the hell did you do that!?”
The three people on the other side of the pool turn to look at us. I sweep the area around us and realize it had emptied.
Since we spoke a lot of people had cleared this side of the space, either now inside or sitting around the drinks table on the patio.
Harry manages to pause his laughter, “I couldn’t help it I’m sorry!”
“You’re a—ugh! My eyeliner’s not even waterproof!”
I swipe under my eyes, my body now used to the temperature. This was Harry, frustrating as ever. One second I’m willing to risk our entire friendship and the next I want to kill him.
“Your eyeliner’s fine.” He says.
“What would you know?” I bite as I try to climb out of the pool. My coverup is now soaked and covering nothing. Meanwhile he’s dry as a bone.
When I catch him distracted, eyes roaming my see-through outfit I attack.
But he sees it coming, and I go down into the pool with him.
His arm stays around me as he pushes us back up from the bottom of the pool and I’m not even mad anymore. I’m laughing and so is he, both of us entwined into one another’s body heat in the cold of the pool.
“I could see your revenge coming from a mile away.”
“Yeah?” I stare into the depths of his eyes; all the colours that have swirled in front of mine when I’d close them.
“Mhm.” He doesn’t say anything. His hand moves up my waist an inch, still not removing them completely. I take it as a sign.
My voice barely a breath, I challenge him and every rule I’ve laid out between us. “You said no regrets earlier but…regrets can happen when you do or don’t do something.”
My hands slide around his neck, fingers threading through the now wet strands of his hair. I didn’t care if this got messed up. I feel the heat of his body, the way he stiffens at first, like he’s not sure whether I’m going to pull away or pull him closer. But then, I feel his shoulders relax, his breath evening out, and his eyes flutter closed.
It’s almost like he’s waiting for me to give him permission.
It’s the kind of sight that makes my heart stutter.
His hands fist the fabric of my dress. I shiver slightly, my body responding before my mind can catch up.
And I wonder, if we do this—if we really do this—can we go back to who we were? Or is it possible to rewrite our history, to build something new out of this?
His eyes slowly open, locking with mine, and I see it then. That flicker of hope, maybe even fear, reflected in his gaze. We both know how fragile this is, how easily it could break.
But for now, all I can think about is kissing him. And how I’m not ready to let it go.
“Harry,” I murmur, my voice barely audible as I tilt my head back, giving him a silent invitation.
When he says my name next, it’s whispered against the skin of my neck. The warmth of his breath sends a shiver down my spine, and I can’t stop the way my body reacts to it—how my heart picks up pace, how my breath hitches.
It’s embarrassing how quickly I arch into him, how easily I give my cards up, the walls I’ve built around myself suddenly feeling fragile, almost nonexistent. I’ve tried to hold onto control, but he must know I want this as badly as he does.
His lips hover just above my pulse, and I feel his hesitation, his own doubts, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he brushes his nose softly against my skin, as if savoring the moment, as if he’s not sure how far he can push without breaking something between us. It’s electrifying. I missed being held by him.
I close any space between us, my lips finding his, tentative at first, like we’re both testing our own waters, unsure whether this is the right time or the wrong time. But the second his mouth meets mine, everything else falls away. The doubts, the past, the what-ifs—they all blur into the background, leaving nothing but the sensation of him, the warmth of his body, the taste of him.
It’s not a kiss of desperation, but there’s something urgent in it, something on the precipice. It’s like we both know we’re running out of time, and maybe we’ve already wasted too much of it so we’re wondering if we should just jump.
His fingers tighten in my hair, and I feel the way his chest rises and falls, the way the hardness of his body pushes into mine like he’s afraid I’ll slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.
And I don’t want to slip away.
I don’t want to think about the future or the inevitable heartache that comes with everything we’re doing right now. All I want is this—him, us, here and now. And maybe that’s all we can have. Just this moment.
“Are you sure?” he whispers against my lips when we break, his voice low, like he’s trying to read my mind.
I pull back slightly, meeting his gaze. There’s uncertainty in his eyes.
“I’m not” I confess. He’s about to pull away but I hold onto him, fingers digging into his arm. “But I also just want to kiss you and maybe just let it be that?”
His eyes flicker with surprise. “This is rich coming from you,” he teases, the warmth of his amusement breaks through the tension. “No strings? From you?”
I roll my eyes, exhaling a laugh that’s more breath than sound. “No, not…not that either. I don’t know what this is!”
“I’m teasing,” he says, his voice softening.
“Let’s face it, this can’t last—us going to school so far away and all that.”
His face shutters close for a moment. I hurry to finish my thought, sliding my hands down to his chest.
“Let’s just be inside what we have now. Here.”
He collects himself, nodding but his jaw’s tight. Did he disagree? I stroke his face and it melts the tension there until he’s smiling.
“You’re finally speaking my language.” Except he doesn’t look as happy about that as I’d think. But I can’t study him any longer as he leans too close to examine.
“I’ve thought about doing this moment for too long.”
Without warning, his lips find mine again, the kiss a make-up for lost time. The kind that feels like he’s letting me set the pace but he’s still very much in control.
“I know,” I say against him, a small smile forming. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for a while, Styles.”
“There it is again,” his eyes flash.
“What?” I grin, the truth out there now.
“Y’know,” he murmurs, pulling me close again, working against the water that pulls me adrift from him. “The things I can do to you…I’ll have you saying my name the way I want you to say it.”
“Ohh will you?” I want to kiss him again, already distracted from annoying him. “Styles?”
His mouth covers mine and i feel him dipping me, but he goes further—pushing us both under the surface of the water while we’re still locked in the kiss. My heart speeds up and I clutch onto him until he’s pulled us back up.
“Harry!” I scold, gasping for air. “You could’ve given me some warning!”
I realize what he’s done. Harry. When I look at him I expect nothing less than the shit-eating grin.
“You better make up for that,” I warn him.
He wades back to me and the moment turns tender; his dripping hand stroking my wet cheek.
He wades us closer to the edge of the pool and my legs wrap around him. Every nerve in my body is fired up and yet it feels like this is exactly where it was supposed to be with. Like he was Rome and all roads were going to lead to him anyway.
I feel the tension I didn’t even realize I was holding drain away. Just for tonight. I can do that. I can hold onto this for now—no strings attached. Then we’ll go back to being friends. Maybe it’ll be something more, maybe not. But for now, it’s just this. And that’s enough.
His hand moves to my back, trails down to grip my thigh, pulling me closer. The same hands that flash through my mind no matter who I’ve been with in between. Our lips meet again. This time, it’s not tentative. It’s not uncertain.
There’s no obligation, no expectations, no promises of tomorrow. Just tonight. Just the two of us.
***
The rest of the summer unfolds in quiet, fleeting moments, the kind you tend not to notice until they’re over.
The remaining days are a perfect mixture of laughter and silence—the spaces between filled with shared glances and easy conversations. Harry and I don’t dissect what happened between us, there’s just an unspoken understanding we carry with us. It feels like we’re both unraveling, in a good way. There’s no pressure, no rush; we don’t label it—there really isn’t anything to label.
We’re still friends, we just lean into each other more. An arm threaded through another, my head on his chest, his hand on my back. Nothing happens that I can point to and name. But there’s just this electrifying bubble around us where we’re looking at nobody but each other. And sure sometimes a movie ends with a makeout session or he wakes up half-naked in my bed when my parents aren’t home but we just let it stay in that pocket of time.
“You’re lighter,” Juni says one day as I drive us to the mall so I can go to work and she can shop for the new school year.
I’m not sure how to explain it but I feel lighter. The way Harry’s around—it’s what I needed, even if I wasn’t willing to admit it before.
Dana, on the other hand, is still skeptical; her usual protective streak coming out whenever she learns more details.
But as time goes on, she can’t deny that Harry is different—he’s not playing games. He’s just here, like he promised. And Dana’s hard to read when it comes to him, but I catch a glance of something resembling approval one eve.
As the last stretch of summer slides in, Rhia finally joins us, and the dynamic shifts. The three of us spend entire days inside, windows open, food containers scattered around us, with movies on in the background and nothing to do but catch up on the last weeks of life. Rhia’s teasing, Juni’s punchy comments, and our ever evolving life updates create a rhythm we all fall into naturally. It’s easy. And for the first time in a long time, it feels like I have it all figured out.
But the final weeks of summer are inevitable, like the slow fade of the sun at dusk, the light dims more each day. There's a quiet ache that comes with it, one I hated to call familiar. But a recognition that soon we’ll have to leave behind the moments we've been trying so hard to create.
Even with Harry, there's a slight tension in the air if you know when to look, something we both feel but refuse to acknowledge. Like we're holding our breath to savor the final fragments of something finite.
One afternoon, as we sit together in the park watching the sunlight filter through the trees with the distant chatter of people around us…something shifts.
I doze off for a few and when I come to, I catch him looking at me with a weight in his eyes that stops me cold. It scares me a bit, how much is there. I can’t breathe for a second, and I wonder if he knows he’s giving it all away with just the one look.
He notices my hesitation and quickly masks it with that same old grin.
“What?” he teases, his voice light. “Was I being Edward, watching you sleep?”
I laugh, but it's a little shaky. “Sure, since I know you’re such a Twihard.”
“A what?” His eyes crinkle.
“Don’t act cute,” I close my eyes for a moment like I’m going back to dozing off but in reality I’m just collecting myself.
I won’t ask him what he was really thinking, I resolve. I can’t. If I did I might crack wide open, and I’m not ready for that yet. So I play along, pretending like everything’s fine.
If we were honest…we were both trying to pretend that the pressure of what’s coming wasn’t breathing down out necks: the new school year and the distance that’s about to stretch between us. And I told myself I wouldn’t do this to myself but I already feel my heart aching. My inner voice urges me to start erecting those walls again.
“Don’t have to act,” I hear him say to my comment about not acting cute.
I crack open my eye again and he grins at me, now on his stomach staring down at me.
“I need to bring back humbling you.” I tell him.
“No,” he sighs and on the exhale he puddles into me, his head half on my shoulder. I loved when he leaned on me physically, something about the casual proximity—I never thought of myself as one of those people. “I’m humble enough.”
He props his head again and smiles down at me. I smile but my heart feels like it’s fracturing and as my smile fades so does his, brows stitching together instead.
“What?” He asks.
I shake my head and try to play it off, “Nothing. Just thinking about how big of a liar you are.”
“Aw c’mon,” he leans in to plant a kiss on my neck and I don’t mean to do it but I shift slightly so it lands on my shoulder.
If this moment was fracturing my heart, his shuttered expression as he looks back at me blows it up entirely. Why did I do that!
Say something, I try to communicate to him. Call me out and say something so I can tell you that was a defence mechanism and can kiss you instead. Please.
Instead he clears his throat and doesn’t say anything, leaning back a few inches.
“Sorry,” I say awkwardly. “I just feel really sweaty being in the sun all afternoon.”
“Well you’re hot, of course you’re sweaty,” he defaults to making a joke and I wish he wouldn’t. I wish he would say what he really wanted and call me out. “Maybe we should pack up out of the sun?”
“I am a bit hungry,” I try to stay casual like he is but his posture’s rigid and my voice is strained and I feel like an idiot. “We can get a bite?”
“Good.” He nods and dusts himself off, picking up the wrappers from our ice lollies and gummies.
And I wait and wait for him to say something, to ask if we’re okay. But it’s like he only reads between the lines, growing foggier as we have our meal, returning to the frosty window that I always found hard to look through.
Later, when I’m with Juni and Rhia, the talk shifts. The new school year.
“What’s your schedule look like?” Juni asks, her eyes full of that careful watchfulness she’s always had.
Rhia joins in, crossing her arms. “Yeah, I can’t believe summer’s already almost over. It feels like we just started hanging out.”
“Uh because we have?” I say.
“Right?!” Juni sighs. “Somebody decided to fail their-“
“That’s not fair you bitch!” Rhia explodes even though she knows we’re teasing. “School is hard!”
“Well you left us to only have a few weeks with you now.” Juni says and she looks at me. “YN got so lonely she started hooking up with Harry again.”
I knew it. She was fishing for information—Juni could pick up on any mood changes. She obviously, somehow, picked up on mine.
“We should plan a road trip for our last weekend together,” I change the subject.
“Yeah, but we’ve gotta actually talk about when to meet up over the year, too,” Rhia says, forcing a smile to cover up the knot in my stomach. “I mean, after the first few weeks, everyone’s gonna be busy. It’s gonna be weird. I didn’t see you guys as much as I wanted to last year.”
“That’s cuz YN didn’t come home for Christmas.” Juni reminds the group. “But maybe we can meet up in London—m’sure she’ll be there more for Harry…”
I roll my eyes, now she was just fishing.
“Juni you know we’re not lasting past the summer holiday.”
“Oh right,” she turns to direct her attention to me and rests her head in her hands. “How do you feel about that?”
Rhia and I make eye contact over her head and burst out laughing.
“She’s been trying so hard to set that up,” Rhia says.
“It was more obvious than her old fake ID. Remember?”
“Piss off you two,” Juni swats at Rhia. “Don’t you care about our best friend here? She’s in a very fragile place.”
“Am not! We both knew this was all temporary. That’s why we’ve worked.” I counter.
“So how does that work?” Juni asks. “Do you guys wind it all down or…”
“Yeah how does it work?” Rhia joins. “Have you guys talked about it? When’s the official goodbye—I want to know so we have the Kleenex on hand.”
She says the last bit when I glare at her.
“Well, I’d have the conversation but he’ll probably flip it into something else. I don’t know how to…Plus he hasn’t even brought it up.”
“So you do it?”
“I can’t.” I sigh.
“Can’t?” Rhia asks.
“Well…it’s just, bringing it up will make it all serious. Suddenly make us serious in a way we weren’t before.”
“So you guys are just pretending?” Juni sits up. “Is that why you’ve been a bit of a mopey shite the last couple days.”
“A what?!”
“That’s not really much closure, is it?” Rhia continues before I can target Juni more.
“I don’t want to talk about this.” I end it. “This whole…hooking up thing has been the closure I needed from our school stuff, okay? When this ends that’s just…it.”
“We totally believe you, right Rhi?” Juni says heavy with sarcasm.
Rhia looks between us, her mouth twisted in a disappointed grimace. “You two are just gonna walk away?”
It’s not like Harry was indicating anything other than that. And I was always the one having higher expectations, creating all the friction in our past. Because he always let me down from whatever expectation I stood on. I was tired of being let down, so I’d squashed the expectations away. He hasn’t said anything so he doesn’t want anything. That’s it.
I don’t tell my best friends this. Instead, I tell them, “Yeah. It’s been a good thing, it doesn’t have to be anything more.”
“We don’t want you hurt again,” Rhia says.
I shrug, “I’m a big girl. Even if it hurts I agreed to this.”
My voice wavers. Juni swears and moves closer, pulling me into a hug. Rhia joins. Both of them deciding it wasn’t worth arguing with my stubbornness when I was going to do what I wanted.
I wish I had clarity though—how much hurt I was going to bear. If talking about it might help. But it frustrated me Harry hadn’t brought it up either. Why did I have to give us closure this summer, I can’t help think. Why did I need closure on something that didn’t quite open all the way up in the first place.
I tamper the flare of anger. I couldn’t go there. I would ruin this thing before it actually ended.
****
As our final days slip by, the only thing we seem to talk about is how we’ll all stay connected once everything changes—plans to meet up, plans to text and call even if it’s hard.
It’s not until we’re all gathered together one last time before the school year sendoffs that I realize how much we’re going to miss this—the spontaneity, the way we all fell into each other’s rhythms without question.
We’re camped out at our local cemetery—there was a patch of it that used to host a lush garden and benches but has since grown neglected after the management changed. The one thing that hadn’t was the teenagers getting together long after dark in the space.
“I can’t believe you never did this in school,” Harry says. We’d been semi-avoiding the other today until we literally bumped into each other. Since then we found an emptied bench to talk face-to-face.
“I heard about it,” I pick at the splintering wood of the bench. “I just thought it was creepy and not my scene.”
“Not your scene.” Harry chuckles. “And now?”
“Creepy still!”
“So you wouldn’t have your first kiss here?” He asks. I raise my brow and he smiles, his dimples prominent in the shadowed light. “Year 8. Yep.”
“Wow,” of course he did. “Think your dating life been haunted since?”
He tilts his head. “It’s gotten better over the years.”
“Not full of ghosts,” I milk the joke.
“I’ll give you that one,” he inches closer. Our knees knock onto each other’s. “There’s one ghost that was haunting me until this summer.”
He was talking about me.
“Finally put the ghost to bed?” I finally ask.
“Many times,” he smirks.
I hit his knee and he laughs, a loud throaty noise that barely breaks the volume of the crowds around us. I’d kind of forgotten they were there.
“It’s been really nice,” I say—was this the closest we were going to get to a proper acknowledgement?
“Same. It’s a shame…”
“Yeah,” I clear my throat. This was getting serious. “We’ll always have summer.”
He raises a brow.
“Like,” I tuck my hair behind my ear just to have something to do. “I know we’re not expecting to last beyond summer. Obviously. But we can always look back at this and…say it’s good.”
A few emotions flicker over his face but he doesn’t speak to any of them. Instead he asks, “When are you heading back?”
I tell him the date. He counts something on his fingers.
“I have an idea.”
“What?” I ask, my heart still racing from the awkward conversation. And trying not to linger on the fact that he hadn’t suggested any alternatives. That he didn’t want to even commit to staying friends.
“You travel past London right? I was going to leave a couple days after you but what if I left the same day and we can do a road trip to London. You can take the train from there, and we can have one final summer memory.”
Summer memory.
“You’d want to do that?” I ask. “Drive us?”
“Yeah why not?” He asks.
“Yeah I…I guess. That sounds nice.” It did. Would he say something then? In the car? Was his plan to wait until the last minute?
Don’t get your expectations up, I remind myself. But by then they rise on their own.
“Solid,” he smiles. It’s soft and boyish and I love the way he looks at me. But I notice how he doesn’t reach for me—beyond our knees knocking we barely touch. He’d slowly stopped being as hands-y since that day in the park. Like he was slowly weaning off of us.
Meanwhile I had kept waiting, growing agitated the more I tried to curb my hope and my expectations. It felt like cutting each other off in slow motion and that shit hurt.
I let out a sigh, this final road trip. It had to be it—when he finally says the words he’s been feeling. Or maybe I could say mine. Either way it had to amount for something.
But for now, we keep pretending that we’ll all stay the same, holding onto something we know is slipping away. And even when my last day comes, when I say my goodbyes and promise to meet again, I feel the change this summer has left on me like a glowing tan. In some parts closure, in others growth, and at the end a small kernel of hope.
***
I fold myself into his front seat, couldn’t believe I agreed to let him drive me the 2 hours to the London station for uni. What if we ran out of things to talk about? What if it became too much?
But I know—we did comfortable silence like it was a second language, we weren’t too much.
Yet the tightness in my chest, the unspoken words in my throat that weren’t quite formed—they felt like too much.
I spend the first five minutes of the ride trying to swallow the words down, quiet until he asks me if I was okay.
“Yeah just really early. D’you mind if we grab a coffee?”
“Beat you to it.” He smiles that smile I would only ache to in my thoughts once we departed today. “We’re driving to a shop that’s got a 4.8 rating on Google—their coffee’s got awarded for something? S’too early to remember. Oh their light roast especially.”
“Oh really?” Unspoken words almost come up my throat and spill in the space between us. He remembered. And he planned this out for me.
“Really!” He smiles but I can tell he’s downplaying the weight of his actions.
“They do breakfast right because I’m starving now.”
He tells me they do and asks if i wanted to play anything so I put on a slower playlist, not ready for pop or anything loud before coffee.
We chat lightly all the way to coffee as if this wasn’t our final day and we didn’t have a million unspoken things.
We’d gotten good at avoiding again.
The bell above the door jingles when we walk into a cafe that looks like it got stuck in 2005 and for a moment, I forget why we’re here.
He orders my drink without asking. We get pastries and when Harry spots a red velvet cupcake he promises to split it with me with a chuckle.
Neither of us choose to rehash the memory.
“You’re not gonna cry when I’m gone are you?” he jokes, leaning against the counter.
We’ve been like a boomerang this summer, slowly moving closer until we collided but just as slowly drifting back out, putting distance because we knew how it ended. He’s been drawing back and making jokes like our relationship has only ever been on the surface. In a way it had been. But we’d only drifted together so naturally because of how deep it went.
Not to mention the thing in his voice—just behind the bravado—that flattens the joke.
“Only if you beg me to,” I reply. He laughs, I look away as my head flashes to images of him begging.
We eat in the car: flaky crumbs on the dashboard, fingers sticky with sugar, caffeine gone in an instant.
The playlist continues to hum softly in the background—songs I know will always haunt me as the soundtrack to this summer.
He taps the steering wheel in rhythm once we head out. The rest of the drive slips by in pieces. We talk about uni—classes, friends, how different it all feels. We stop somewhere in a small town for lunch and explore their high street. We stop at a roadside farm and tell our corniest jokes to the sheep like they might understand. We get back on the road later than we meant to, and continue talking. About the sheep, about attempting to be vegans, he tells me about a lecture full of advice that he claims changed his mindset, and we act as normal as possible.
Somewhere along the highway, the sun shifts just right, casting gold across his face, and I let myself look at him like I won’t get another chance.
Because I won’t.
Not like this.
And I think he knows it too, because neither of us fills the silence that stretches after that. He doesn’t reach for my hand. I don’t even try, the idea itself lodging a lump in my throat. But the space between is heavy with everything we couldn’t say. Again.
We’re twenty minutes out when he finally speaks.
“What if I crashed your uni this year,” he starts. “Switch majors, pretend I’ve suddenly discovered a lifelong passion for…English Lit. I’ll show up with like, a fake mustache and I’ll think of a tragic backstory and-“
“A fake mustache?”
He shrugs, “would make me look different. Older.”
“Couldn’t you grow your own? And if you’re crashing uni wouldn’t you want to be the same year as me?” I dampen his fantasies with logic.
His smile drops, “Oh. Maybe I’m crashing as a professor?”
That drags a laugh out of me at the unexpected ridiculousness amongst the tension from the day.
He grins while I laugh, soft. “I’d can be Professor…I dunno. Specializing on heartbreaking literature. Be known for my charm?”
It’s so stupid. “I bet your office hours are always full.”
“Yeah,” he nods, getting into it. “But nobody wants to talk about the work.”
“The literature on heartbreak?” I raise a brow, wondering where he’s going with this.
“Yeah!” He glances at me. “They just keep asking me if I’m single.”
“That sounds inappropriate Professor.”
I glance at the clock without meaning to, 14 minutes out.
It snuffs out the joke for me and the heaviness feels suffocating again. I want to talk about something serious. Like us. Not fake students and his fake relationship status—I wanted to know after all this would he still enjoy being single and us out of reach.
“Aren’t you going to ask?” He goads when I don’t reply.
I try to quash the flame of irritation, “I just…I’m good.”
“Why?” He doesn’t catch on to my deflated mood. “Does it bother you you won’t get to book any time with me.”
“No.” I say too sharply. He glances at me, I continue staring ahead, too ashamed to meet his eye. When he continues to wait I sigh and soften my tone, “I’m over pretending alright? Can we talk about something real?”
He goes still—like he’s trying to decide whether to keep pretending, or to open a door he won’t be able to close.
Then he shrugs, eyes still on the road.
“I am saying something real. Or trying to.” He mutters the last bit.
My chest hurts because it just was never enough.
So I sigh, lean my head back against the window, and ask, “Okay, Professor Sadboy-who-may-or-may-not-be-single. What’s on the syllabus today?”
He smirks, a little sad around the edges. “Tragedy. Obviously.”
And then White Ferrari starts playing, like the universe has a sick sense of humor.
Of course.
Of course that’s the song.
I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, wondering if he picked it, queued it up to play at exactly this moment—or if it’s just fate doing its usual thing: twisting the knife.
He doesn’t say anything. Neither do I. But I watch his thumb tap against the steering wheel in time with the words, and I feel something unravel in me.
Ten minutes out. The sun is lower now. It catches in his hair, makes him look too golden, too perfect for someone I don’t get to keep.
I speak first this time.
“Are you gonna be okay?”
He exhales, slow. Doesn’t look at me.
“You mean am I gonna cry the rest of the drive to my uni?”
“Harry,” I sigh.
“Sorry.” He apologizes, knowing he wasn’t taking me seriously.
“Well?”
“Eventually,” he says. “You?”
I look down at my hands in my lap. My fingers twitch like they want to reach for something—his hand, his sleeve, the past. I don’t.
“I’m not sure yet.”
When we pull up to the drop-off lot, we sit in the silence for a beat.
How do we go about this?
How do we just part ways here, after everything said and unsaid?
Would we see each other again?
Would we still be these versions of ourselves, or would time and distance reshape us into people the other couldn’t recognize—couldn’t stand?
How much space until the fraying rope between us finally snaps?
He’s not meant for you forever, I remind myself. He can’t even admit to it. You’ll be okay.
“Well,” he says finally, voice light, a little too light. A ghost of that casual, cocky smile stretched across his face like a mask. “This is it.”
“This is it.”
I look him in the eye, daring him to say something meaningful.
Because this was it. If there was ever a time, it was now.
But he just nods once, like that’s a shared truth we could both carry with us. Not one we’ll dissect.
I go to grab my bag, slow, deliberate. Waiting. Hoping. But it never comes. You would think I’d know better. The disappointment strums every single one of my emotions.
His fingers brush against mine as he takes the strap of my bag. The weight of his touch lingers in the space between us, so close, and I swallow hard, feeling cracked open, watching him.
He stands there for a moment, staring down at the bag for a solution or something. The late afternoon light catches the edge of his jaw, his hair shifts when he brushes it back, and for a split second he looks like the version of him I always imagine—a version that was mine.
I open my mouth to say something. Anything. But nothing comes out.
He sighs, a soft exhale and I look again, expectant, just fucking hoping he’ll say the thing we both know is sitting there between us, waiting to be said.
But instead, he looks with eyes too tired, the mask gone and underneath a flow of everythinf he feels.
“Take care of yourself, yeah?”
And just like that, the hope dissolves. It’s hollow now.
Empty. I nod, and he backs away, hands stuffed in his pockets, a tightness in his shoulders that’s hard to ignore.
I take a deep breath that doesn’t fill my lungs enough. Then I take a small step back, almost like I’m trying to distance myself first.
His face falls.
“Not even a hug?” he says, trying to lighten it with a grin, but there’s a crack in his voice.
He knows. I know he knows.
I look at him, eyes searching for something to hold onto, but he’s already bracing himself with walls up. I step towards him, that ache in my chest too loud to ignore. I reach out, and he meets me halfway. Our arms find each other, but it’s not like before. We bow into each other but we don’t slot into the other like usual, almost like I’m holding onto a shell of him—and I can feel he’s doing the same with me.
We’ve already let go.
And a part of me flares with anger—anger masking the disappointment under it. He wasn’t fighting for it, of course he wasn’t. He wasn’t trying to see if we could make it work, or even if we still wanted to keep in touch. Nothing.
Why would he, my inner voice reminds me. That’s not him, just who you want him to be.
When we pull apart, neither of us says anything for a second like the space between us has grown too hollow to fill.
I force a smile but it feels stiff. “I’ll see you around.”
He nods, eyes avoiding mine for a moment, like he's not sure how to let go of the last thread of us. "Yeah."
Now leave. Don’t look back.
He doesn’t drive off right away. I can feel it—his eyes watching me walk away.
And mine burn with frustrated tears, but I don’t turn around. Not even once.
***
TEXT SNIPPETS
September 18, 10:48pm
Harry: hey
YN: hey
10:55pm
Harry: how’s YN doing
Y: pretty good. too early for uni to be kicking my arse
H: I got mine handed to me the other day
Y: what happened?
11:18pm
H: stayed up all night then had morning practice. got hit in the face, nosebleed, benched for 2 weeks
Y: over a bloody nose???
H: being a dumbass
Y: how’s the face doing?
H: sore and colourful ;)
Y: keep icing it. it’s the only nice thing about you
H: you softie. i’ll quit football if ur so worried about my facr
Y: dont quit footie. quit being a dumbass first
H: can’t win w you
Y: :)
September 28, 3:05pm
H: how did your interview go?
Y: soooo bad. she asked me what I did for fun and I blanked. I said sleep
Y: idk why i decided to become a joker then
H: lmao but could the rest save you?
4:25pm
Y: doubt it. saw penn lambert walk in before me
H: ???
Y: remember PL? complained about her that time i got drunk w you watching what a girl wants?
5:05pm
H: oh the one with the nucler brain
Y: and a radioactive personality, yeah. she’ll get it
8:30pm
H: life can surprise you
Y: sometimes.
Y: life giving you any surprises lately?
H: kinda
Y: ???
Y: do i have to drag it out of you?
….
….
….
October 21, 8:10am
H: halloween plans?
9:46am
Y: hey. might go to a party w heather
H: big Halloween thing in London. Come through?
Y: mmmm all that way for a party? got a midterm in 2 days
H: yeah but you get to see me
Y: is that the trick or the treat...
Y: jks i'll see. idk
H: figures
Y: what’s that supposed to mean??
H: nothing. just text me if u change ur mind
…
….
December 4. 5:55pm
H: you gonna be in town for the holidays?
Y: not really. spending it at my Nan’s again. parents aren’t home until the new year
H: shit
H: hows ur Nan?
Y: she’s good! Does old people shit like water aerobics
Y: how r u?? U never responded to my text last month
H: water aerobics sounds proper fun
H: nd sorry I meant to
Y: I sent it like a month ago…
H: life’s been crazy
H: football and midterms and other stuff
Y: other stuff? can I help?
H: no not like that
Y: …
H: unless you wanna help me with my girl problems
Y: pass
H: what I thought lol
Y: or actually I’ll help: stop harassing them!
H: i’m not! why do you assume that
7:10pm
Y: history repeats itself
H: not mine
9:12pm
Y: 🙄 sure Styles
10:24pm
H: i miss you
Y: …? U drunk?
H: no. i rmbr u always rolling ur eyes and i miss annoying u
Y: hm
H: maybe im a little drunk
Y: maybe we talk another time
H: -deleted- sometimes i don’t know where we stand. I think we’re on the same page and then you say something and i feel like i imagined everything? are we just spose to pretend to b friends?
H: sorry
….
….
January 1, 12:12am
Y: happy new year loser 🎉
1:25am
H: hny
2:10am
Y: shit thts the driest text you ever sent
H: ur still up?
Y: yep. new year!! Plus I have a flight in a couple hours. just staying up
Y: ur still in town? I’m gonna be there until break’s over
11:00am
H: ah no sorry I went back to London for nye
…
January 26, 2:44am
H: do you ever wonder why ur like the way u r
H: like what got me here
H: its always the same
…
February 27, 2:10pm
🚫 H: spring break plans?
…
…
…
April 2, 6:55pm
Y: I hate the catcher in the rye. more like catcher these hands and die
H: wow so you didn’t lose my number…
8:01pm
Y: shit sorry
H: ?
Y: I thought I was texting my friend. Helen. Similar name
H: but ur ignoring me?
Y: no! I’m not ignoring you? Well i ignored ur drunk texts when i woke up to them
H: oh I don’t think the other one sent thru
H: nvm
H: spring break plans?
Y: ya! I’m gonna be in London actually
H: YN! I’m not in London
Y: 😔
H: you planned this
Y: noooo lol Juni and Rhia and I are doing our belated summer plan
H: actual summer plans tho?
Y: trying to get an internship
H: cinema gig?
Y: dead to me 🙃 i can’t spend another summer stuck in our town
H: shame. wouldn’t mind seeing you
Y: -deleted- you could take a train to see me
Y: -deleted- would you actually? What about ur girls problems
Y: not in the stars ig
Y: how’s school? Football?
10:18pm
H: school alright. rolled my ankle last month so haven’t been playing since.
Y: oh no sorry H. Will it be okay?
H: yeah. Just no lucky this year. Coachs PT thinks I’ll be good in a couple games
11pm
Y: fingers crossed.
Y: look what I’m having
Y: *picture of 3 coffee cups*
Y: assignments due tmrw. 2. I just finished one and i’m dead.
H: wish i could keep you company
Y: u would distract me
H: 😉
…
….
…
July 2, 10:10am
H: back in town. so boring
12:05pm
Y: glad i’m not.
H: not coming the whole summer?
Y: if I can help it. Why?
H: -deleted- i miss you here. us
H: -deleted- i wouldn’t mind seeing you. at…
H: -deleted- we always have summer right
Y: are you writing an essay?
H: no.
Y: wow that’s it?
Y: -deleted- classic, editing out your words…
Y: i was expecting a paragraph min
H: maybe if you show up to town I’ll tell you
Y: :/
…
July 19, 2:14am
Y: apparently third time is the charm
H: ?
Y: SORRY! Text mixup. I need glasses. Heather. Not Harry
H: so many Hs
Y: why are you still up?
H: drinks with the guys. And Dana
Y: “and Dana” lol. Glad ur friends again. Tell her I said hi (even tho i spoke to her yday)!!!
H: what you do for the third time? Why are you up??
H: Isnt it a work night 4 u
Y: i can handle myself
H: i like how you avoided my q
Y: …
H: …
Y: -deleted- idk if this is weird to talk to u about but
Y: for a date
Y: This guy who i wasn’t sure if i was gonna write off
2:30am
H: i see. What’s wrong w him
Y: think he was just nervous the first couple dates. totally different now
Y: could be the wine too though
H: wine and a third date? must be a special 1
Y: lol
H: didnt know u were into posh boys
Y: -deleted- wtf??
Y: ???
2:45am
H: jk
H: nvm enjoy stay safe
Y: -deleted-don’t fk w me that was really weird you know
Y: -deleted-Why not just say how you bloody feel!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Y: xx
…
July 22, 7:40pm
Y: -deleted- soooo I heard from Dana you’ve been harassing the girls in town again…something about an 18 year old from..
…
July 24, 4:35pm
H: forgot to say hope the internship is going alright
Y: thanks!
H: no PL ruin it this time yeah?
…
…
August 12, 9:18pm
H: you alright? U been mia
H: town’s not the same wo YN
Y: lol just busy
….
…
…
…
November 2, 9:18pm
H: -deleted- hey its been a while how…
H: -deleted- hey long time…
H: -deleted- you’ll like this: i got dumped yday by this girl I was dating. Less than 2 months but it was shitty. She hooked up w someone else on halloween. Just found out today. I didn’t even like her enough to feel this shitty she didnt come closed to you but…
Guess karma finds u no matter ur address. Hope ur dating lifes been better. I tried asking Dana but she said ethics or whatever…anyway i miss you and I shouldnt ask about ur dating life cuz i dont like thinking about it which gives me no right i can hear you saying that. Literally hear it in ur voice. Idk. I feel like someones tossed me head first over a fuckin bridge and im trying not to drown. hearing from you would help. Or maybe not. Maybe i shoukd just get so pissed i forget everything. I should stop trying so hard to grow up. Gorwing up hurts
11:15pm
H: -deleted- hope ur alrighf
H: i miss you like crazy
2:18am
H: you know wht. cant even make sense of it maybe i just shut up or maybe u already kno whag i mean anyway sry for thismess
A/N: soooo here’s pt 3. tumblr’s word limit kinda cut this off in a weird place so sorry about that. going to try to get part 4 out asap though! You guys will need to put up w the the continued cliffhanger and minor angst 👀
Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 3.5 / 4
Word Count: ~22k
———————————————
“No trust me honey I don’t mind.” Mum says in my ear. I cross and uncross my legs whilst sat on the train. “We just thought you were staying longer.”
“I was.” I reply for the tenth time. It was supposed to be Juni, Rhia, and I in London for 3 weeks but then Juni dropped out because her boyfriend had invited her to join his family on some Greece trip. Then it was Rhia and me but plans fells fully through when Rhia found out she failed one of her courses and decided to redo the thing during summer.
So not only was I heading back to my hometown for the entire summer after living away from home my first year of uni, but I was doing it with no friends (for the most part) and no family because mum and dad were still in Singapore or Shanghai or something starting with an S. And Nan of course was no longer around the bend. (She was in Florida with friends for a couple months too—really living the retired widow life).
“…and that’s the absolute earliest. I told your dad but he’s been nonstop in meetings it’s like he doesn’t care and there’s probably no food and-“
“Mum,” I cut off her guilt-fuelled rant. “I’ve got Uber and I’ve got my keys. I’ll be fine at home until you two come back. It’s just 2 weeks! You been away for longer than that.”
She sighs. “I don’t like this. Call me as soon as you get in the door. And if you need me to come back sooner let me know immediately. I will find the next flight.”
“I appreciate that.” I watch the final stragglers make it to the train after last call. Once it closes and the announcements come on I tell mum I’d talk to her later.
This summer was going to be a bust…just perfect, I think as the train lurches forward. My stomach lurches with it.
***
4 hours later and I’m rolling my suitcase up the driveway of home. But home had become a strange word as of late. Because home was always here but also a few streets away at Nan’s. If I were to drive by there now I would find a stranger’s family calling it home. Home had also become my dorm room I shared with my roommate Heather. And yet when I thought of home I also thought of my Nan in the small bungalow I lived in last summer.
Home for now did need airing out. I want to collapse into my bed but instead I walk around opening windows. Luckily I’d done a shop on my phone so I find the keys and go to pick it up. As I drive through the familiar streets of my hometown I can’t help but compare myself to the girl I was the last time I was here.
It had been a whole year because we’d done the holidays with Nan and her sister in Scotland. It was a fun affair and the first time I’d seen my whole family around the table smile at the same time. It made me miss grandpa, wishful that he could have seen it.
First year had expanded the boundaries of my comfort zone. And I finally felt like I could step fresh into a new chapter of my life and really embrace it but being back here feels like a child slamming two of her dolls together trying to get them to kiss.
As I go to pick up the groceries I already spot 3 different people that I knew and instinctively avoid. This was going to be a pain. There were several people I really didn’t want to run into this summer.
Are you going to lock yourself away the whole 3 months? I ask myself. And I know I was going to have to see and talk to old faces soon enough. This town was too small to avoid that.
Plus, it went against the jump head first motto I’d adapted my first year.
Maybe that’s how I get both parts of my life to kiss, I think with a smile as I stuff my groceries into the back of my car. I dive in and embraced whatever I faced like it was no big deal.
***
One week later and I’m bored out of my skull.
Normally I’d have school or company—even Nan. But the whole week I’ve been sat at home catching up on telly and feeding myself. It’s now gotten to the point where any movie I put on I zoned out after ten minutes and I didn’t even want to get out of bed.
Maybe I should call mum to come home early.
Or maybe I could do something productive. Like paint my room and clear it of some of my school leftovers. Or maybe I could get a job, something low key like walking dogs. Did people still need dog walkers?
I sink further into my bed. It was desperate times when I considered living alone with mum. Because I know as soon as they came back home I’d want to be outside and away as much as possible.
Maybe a job was the better option.
I decide to walk to the local high street to see what sort of jobs were available. Rhia calls me while I walk and we both commiserate about how bored we were and how it was far too nice out to be so bored.
“Wish I was there,” she moans. “I seriously hate myself for having to be here another like, 2 months.”
“I know,” I agree but try not to add on to the guilt Rhia was feeling. “We’ll have August though.”
“Ish. And when’s Juni back?”
“Who knows. We’ve barely talked she’s in blissful boyfriend land. I don’t even blame her.”
We chatter about vacations and dating and then Rhia leaves as I poke my head into a cafe. They’re not hiring but they give me a pamphlet for a volunteering thing. I’d consider it.
I’m so desperate after going from shop to shop that I even check in the hardware store. The man behind the counter actually eyes my hair which only had a green satin scrunchie in and tells me they weren’t hiring. I consider fighting him on the sign I saw on a bulletin poster but by then I’m spent.
I end up back at the cafe on the way home and slump into a seat with an iced coffee and a headache. It was noon and the sun that I was blessing earlier was getting to be too much.
I scroll through my phone for a bit but can’t help notice one of the guys behind the counter looking at me every so often. When I do catch him looking he looks away quickly.
He looked familiar, I’m sure we went to school together but I wouldn’t know his name.
That’s what I was realizing this summer. I don’t think I socialized enough in school because I knew a lot of these faces I just couldn’t recall names. Or maybe I was bad at names.
When he’s wiping down a few tables nearby I throw him a smile. If I did know him I didn’t want to be rude. This seems to thaw the ice enough he smiles and comes over.
“Hey YN right?”
“Yeah!” I can hear my voice going high, unsure where this would go.
“Uh Ray-“
“Right Ray yes,” I nod.
“You don’t know me do you?” He laughs.
“I’m sorry,” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m really bad at remembering people!”
“Nah it’s alright,” he takes the seat across from me. “We didn’t actually go to school but I have a lot of friends who went there. I was on the east end.”
“Ah,” okay thank god I wasn’t this bad. “Our frenemies.”
“Exactly,” he grins. He had braces on but he was otherwise older looking than his 18 or 19. “So you home for the summer?”
“Yeah and bored out of my mind.” I confess. “It’s been a week I’m kinda scared what the rest of the summer’s gonna be like.”
He laughs, “I took a gap year. Thought it was gonna be the best year of my life—I just got depressed and no money. Now I have a job.”
“Oh my god,” I laugh. “That would be the only reason I wouldn’t do a gap year. And I’m now looking for a job so I don’t lose my mind, but…no luck here or anywhere!”
“Yeah they actually overhired for the summer cuz of all the tourists and now they’re cutting people’s shifts.”
“That sucks.”
He shrugs, getting up to go again. I feel lame when I want to ask him to stay. I just needed human connection. “Yeah I’ve been here long enough so I’m okay. Do you have a car?”
“Yeah?”
“Try the mall today. My cousin works at the cinema I can tell her to hook you up if they have anything. I think you went to school with her actually? She works first shift.”
“Oh yeah thanks uh that-“ I’m cut off by someone at the counter calling his name.
“I’ll text her.” Ray tells me. “Nice talk YN.”
I wave him off and feel rejuvenated. I would take the job selling popcorn if it gave me something to do.
***
The cousin Ray spoke of was Dana. When I realize this it’s too late. I’ve already walked confidently up to the counter and spotted her.
She smiles, a bit hesitant, and waves me to the side, I pray she doesn’t ask anything about all the sensitive topics I’ve shoved into a corner of my brain. And I luck out again, she’s perfectly professional.
“Hey!”
“Hey Dana.” At least I remembered her name. Well, actually I only know it because she requested to follow me on Instagram last summer and we’ve been liking each other’s things since. She was nice. “Small world.”
Dana still had the same bangs except her hair was a lot shorter and she had pierced her nose. “My cousin told me about the job thing? Unfortunately you do have to go through the interview process-“
“That’s alright.” I reassure her. “I don’t want to like have anyone pull any favors. If I can just get a job and get like 2 shifts I’d be happy.”
She snorts, “We’re constantly understaffed and the school and tourist rush is going to bust our tits up so you’ll definitely have more than 2 shifts. But I’ll vouch for you. I mean, why wouldn’t they hire school valedictorian.”
“Ha,” I feel strange her saying that. Because you’d think school valedictorian would not be working handing popcorn at the cinema yet here I was. Oh god would people I run into think that? That I burned out and am working at our local cinema?
“I hope you get in. It’s fun—well it’s chaotic but everyone working here is really fun to get along with. And you can also apply to the Starbucks inside I heard they’re hiring too.”
“Yeah!? Thanks!” I would not be applying there. I was rethinking this applying thing.
Maybe I should have done an internship that some of my uni friends were doing. I just didn’t because I still hadn’t settled on my focus and I was supposed to be having fun with my best friends this summer. Now it was all upside down.
Dana hands me the form and tells me I could fill it out off to the side or take it home. If I took it home I knew it would never make its way back, and when I took a breath I knew that being home with mum and dad all summer would actually break me.
So I fill it out. What was the worst that could happen.
***
“Will you be home for dinner?” Mum shouts out when she hears the car keys.
“Probably?” I step through into the kitchen where she’s reading. “My shift ends at 6.”
“Okay,” she takes her glasses off and studies me for a second.
It had been one week since they’ve been home and I’m so glad I had thought ahead and gotten this job.
So far both of my parents have tried to crowd me and ask me about my life as if we didn’t talk every week. Then they tried to plan a guilt-trip—literally a trip because they felt guilty for leaving me stranded. I reminded them I was already spending a week in July with Nan and they would be away for most of August again. We’d settled on a family dinner and day trip to the sea next month.
“Are you sure you want to keep working there?” She asks. “If you need money your dad can help.”
“Mum I already explained it wasn’t the money.”
It was the first time I was making my own money and even though it wasn’t a lot it was quite freeing. I thought of Nan who always told me financial independence for a woman meant more than it did for a man. And even though I wasn’t about to build a life on my £200 it was nice to spend knowing I earned it. Nan had been so happy when I told her.
But more than that, I’d officially been at the job a week—most of it was training but Dana had been right; it was a fun group of people and even though I had to suck it up and deal with all kinds of customers it was a new experience that was teaching me a lot about myself.
“Well why are you working at a cinema then?”
“It’s just…something to do! I’ve never worked a proper job before and it gives me something to do and I’m making friends there. It’s good for my social skills?”
That seems to satisfy her for now. She shrugs and picks her book up again, “Well if that’s what we’re getting jobs for. Make sure you text me if you’re gonna be late.”
I make it to work on time and clock in. I’d officially been cleared from shadowing this week and of course my first shift’s in concession. But I take it with a smile.
“Don’t let the mum and dads bully you,” Dana warns me when I bump into her on the way through. “Those crying kids fuck their heads up and then they try to fuck ours up.”
“Noted,” I was realizing Dana was kind but with a sailor’s mouth. It’s sad we never hung out in high school. “Anything else?”
“No. But if you want to wait ‘til 9 or come back a few of us hang out sometimes. We swap our worst customer stories over a pint and chips.”
That sounded like fun but I remember my mum’s distaste for my job and being home for dinner so I figure I shouldn’t push it. “Maybe next time? I have a thing at home.”
“Yeah,” she nods. “Catch us next time!”
The first couple hours are slow—not a lot of people came to the cinemas until later in the afternoon. But still I continue to serve snacks like a pro and only mess up a couple times on sizing. For my first shift alone, I call it a win.
***
It’s the beginning of the evening rush a few days later and I’ve decided this is the worst shift to work. But I promised Dana I’d cover it for her even though I’d only done one evening shift and that was while I was training. In return I had tomorrow off. Now I’m not so sure it was a good trade off.
“No we wanted the large see,” a frazzled mum points for the third time at the large popcorn in front of her. “This isn’t large. I came here last month this is not a large.”
The line behind her grows even though another register is open. I tell her I could show her the 3 sizes so she can see for herself through a forced smile that makes my cheeks hurt.
“No I want you to admit this isn’t a large. How are all three kids going to share this. It’s barely enough for myself!”
I take a look at her kids—one sits on her hip probably the most likely to choke on the popcorn. The other is shouting into the face of the eldest, probably about 5. Somehow I know the only way her three kids would finish this size is if they spilt it all over the floor.
“If you want separate bags I can give them but I’m afraid that’s our largest size at the time. Can I help you with anything else?”
She sighs and I feel her frustration. “I can’t believe the money I’m spending and they just shrink it down and expect you to believe it’s a large because they’re trying to brainwash you with the frequencies in those speakers! Honest to god I don’t know what I’m doing here! Let’s go kids.”
I try not to look so shocked at her spiel but it’s hard not to. She was here by choice, what did she want me to do?
“Now I came here last week and I don’t remember them hiring girls like you.”
My ears register him first, then my eyes slide from the woman walking away with her kids, to his face. Those deeply knowing green eyes.
“I’m new,” I hope my face doesn’t give away the fact that my stomach wants to empty anything it ate in the last 24 hours and my heart is beating so fast I’m pretty sure it’s on whatever frequency that woman was talking about.
“Yeah I know I’ll go easy on you don’t worry.”
There’s a few seconds of just staring at each other, soaking each other in. He looks the same of course—slightly less boyish but the exact same infuriatingly beautiful face. I’m suddenly self conscious of what he sees staring back at him.
I always knew I’d see him again but not in this ugly polo tee and my hair a right mess from the rain I was accidentally caught in in the parking lot.
After our inspection’s up both of our faces relax into a smile.
“YN.”
“Harry. What can I get you?” I watch his eyes glint with a cheeky response so I clarify. “From the menu.”
He grins. “2 medium drinks and large popcorn. And some m&ms.”
I ring him up, kind of in disbelief this is happening. While I’m working at the bloody cinema. And I’m supposed to be blase and indifferent but I can’t stop stealing glances like a clown.
The things happening inside of me are so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone around me started staring at me. It wasn’t fair he got the element of surprise after probably choosing my line to stand in.
I want to stare at him, figure out all the ways he might be different or the same like one of those spot 7 differences we used to play in the back of magazines. I wonder if he still found the same things funny, if he thought uni suited him or not, if he feels grown up living so far from home, if he’s met anyone or he still plays the field, if he still feels the same way about me.
You’re different. You make me feel different.
It’s no surprise that amongst every emotion that’s zipping through me when I look at him, the one that stands out is how it still aches.
Because after a year away, after space and digesting my whirlwind of a year—having independence and going on dates and making new friends and realizing grief worked the same way as motivation in that you woke up with varying levels every day but it stayed with you no matter the time in between. Well…I really believed Harry and I could have been something.
Maybe it was right person wrong time, or right people wrong attachment style. Whatever it was I had to suffocate the notion that there could ever be anything romantic about us. We just kept hurting each other in the end. And I was tired of hurting.
He brushes my hand as I hand him his stuff.
“Enjoy your movie,” I give him my fake customer smile. He raises a brow.
“I will now.”
I manage to hold the pokerface until he’s passed the line and gone back to wherever he came from. But I’m absentminded with the next customer as I watch him go up to a pretty brunette and hand her the popcorn. She laughs at something he says and they walk to their movie.
I’ll never stop wanting you.
We were just a moment. A moment that would never be a period or a lifetime. I knew that and yet I couldn’t deny the warmth flooding my body when we spoke or when his hands brushed mine. I thought I was over him and all this drama but damn he had cast a spell on me.
Harry’s POV:
I was stood in line when my eyes flicked over the crowd and landed on her—I wasn’t ready for it. It felt familiar; an ache that tore me right through yet knew how to patch me back up. She looked different, or maybe it’s just the way she’s angled. And I swear I forgot to take a breath in. Or out.
She goes through customers until I’m at the front of the line. She still doesn’t notice, and I’m a little bummed that her eyes don’t draw to mine in a way that I think mine would to her. In any space.
A whole year since I saw her last but I feel like that same kid that fucked up all over again. I try my hardest not to spiral into the feeling.
It’s easy to do as I focus instead on the woman in front of me with her 3 kids. I’m pretty sure they’ve had a bucket of sugar. She gives her a hard time but I won’t ever forget the shock that ripples over her face once I do go up, deliver the line I’d been practicing for the last 10 minutes, watch her face soften into something between pleased and intrigue.
A part of me thought she would clock me in the face as soon as she got over the initial shock. I’m wholly surprised by the warmth that still lingers as she entertains me. There’s something about our old magic still here that I thought died that day in the hallway.
I don’t know why I do it but I continue showing up to the theatre. I just want to see her, make sure she’s real. I don’t think this is a second chance for me or anything—I’m still young. This is summer between uni years it’s literally a state of limbo.
But I want to see her. Make sure she doesn’t hate me. She’s not always in, I don’t always get to talk to her. Sometimes I pretend I don’t see her especially if I’m going with my sister who finds it suspicious I’m watching so many movies but is happy to come if I buy her ticket.
I catch her watching me sometimes too. I hate ignoring her but I feel like I have to. I don’t want her to know how desperately I still want her approval.
Usually when we catch each other’s eye she’ll throw me a smile before going back to what she’s doing. Sometimes I wave. Usually Dana is glaring at me when she’s nearby. I try to wave at her too but it does nothing to warm her up.
I’d texted Dana after that first day asking her why she hadn’t told me YN was working at the cinemas with her. It was deliberate—Dana knew our history better than anyone and she knew I’d want to know this info.
Dana had told me she didn’t want to be complicit in my harassment and then proceeded to go cold on me. She was still mad at me about her birthday thing. I dunno when she was going to get over it.
When I talk to YN in line I try to coax a laugh or a smile out of her. I succeed most times. Unless I’m with Gemma or other friends.
I wasn’t embarrassed to be seen around her, I just know if they caught on it would become a Thing and if it did then it would become serious. And even though what I felt about her would always have an aura of serious that felt too real for me, I didn’t actually want it to become serious.
I don’t think I did.
I think for those first couple weeks I don’t know what I’m doing but I become a little fixated.
A lot fixated.
Today, I look for her after the movie but she’s not behind any counter. That was okay though, I knew she would be here regularly—no thanks to someone I knew.
“What are you looking for?” Gemma asks.
“Nothing,” I lie.
“Don’t tell me you’re back in town for a couple weeks and already looking for your next victim.”
“I’m not! Why do you have to jump to conclusions.”
“It’s not jumping when you’ve landed on that conclusion for most of your life!”
“I’ve changed,” I insist.
She snorts. “Right. You think dating girls before sleeping with them means you’ve changed now? It’s the same thing but now you’re just buying them dinner and giving ‘em false hope.”
“Do you ever shut up?” I glare as we get to her car.
“Do you ever grow up?” She replies.
She didn’t know what she was on about. Everyone liked to give their opinions on me and it annoyed me to no end. I had changed, I had been working on myself all year. And I’d prove it.
***Your POV:
I don’t expect to see him so much while I work but he watches a lot of movies.
We don’t always talk—sometimes he’s very cool towards me and I try not to take it personally but every time we do talk I find myself thinking of exactly what I said at least a dozen times and wondering if I should have done anything differently. If I should be meaner or nicer or more serious or less bothered.
That was the thing about Harry, I never knew how to feel around him. Because I felt everything around him. The entire encyclopedia of emotions. Despite myself.
I see him the following Friday. The shift was okay, I was working it with a few people I’d gotten friendly with—mostly thanks to Dana breaking the ice for me. It was much more fun doing this with coworkers you could compete between shifts with on who dealt with the craziest customer that day.
“I heard she had to actually tap them on the shoulder,” Dana says to me and Jusuf. It was the final hour before closing time and at this point we were cleaning up and waiting for the last show to let its patrons go.
“At least they were just making out. Remember last winter Dana?” Jusuf asks.
“No. I’ve blocked last winter out.” Dana shudders.
“Why what?” I ask.
“Nope.” Dana cuts Jusuf off before he can say anything. “If I have to retell that I need to be drunk.”
“Oh is she coming to drinks tonight?” Yusuf asks about me. Dana raises her brow.
Even though I told her last time I’d try to make it I hadn’t tried at all. It’s not that I was avoiding it I just wasn’t sure if they would like me outside of work. The only reason they were all so friendly with me was because of Dana and I was scared I’d join them for drinks and either get drunk and say something stupid or have them realize I wasn’t actually cool enough.
“Tonight?” I ask.
“Yeah! You should come you never come.” Jusuf says.
“Okay,” I shrug. “But I’m gonna go home and change.”
Dana laughs. “We don’t show up for drinks in these ugly shirts.”
“Hey I do,” Jusuf says self-consciously.
Dana exchanges a look with me like that makes sense.
“You have a ride home?” She asks. She knows my cousins were in town. I’d let them borrow my car as long as they were in front of this building as soon as I clocked off.
Suddenly her face falls. “Looks like the final showing’s ended.”
I turn to look at what’s made her so sour. And of course it’s him. He’s walking alongside a group—old friends from both schools, and then turning to walk in our direction as he spots us.
“I swear this is the 3rd movie this week?” Dana says as he nears. His gaze slides from mine to her smiles.
I’d only seen him twice this week, I must have missed the third.
Which was okay. I really should be seeing him less. Every time I did it always felt so intense and I was always confused if that was my mixed emotions or ours. I tried not to engage with him through our shared history but sometimes that meant I carried it with me long after the interaction.
“Bored.” Harry says casually. “Is that a crime Dana?”
Dana directs her next words at me, “I’ll see you later? I’m gonna go finish cleanup.”
“Eh yeah me too.” Jusuf trails behind her probably sensing the awkward vibe.
Harry makes a frustrated noise as they go. My head’s still spinning.
“I don’t understand,” he trails off with a noisy sigh and a swear beneath his breath. He looks back to his friends. Rubbing the back of his head he asks, “You finished for the night?”
“Um,” with his full attention on me I suddenly wish I left with the others. “Technically still got another hour. On the clock.”
He nods, casual and cool. It’s a slight departure from the way he usually gives me his full attention when he gets my line at concession or tickets. But this had been his thing over the last few weeks. Hot and cold. Or hot and cool.
“Righto.” I grow awkward. And confused. I’m about to tell him I was also leaving but one of his friends calls out his name.
“Styles!” It’s a friend of his with an arm around a girl. I don’t fully recognize him. Two other people stop with him that I recall vaguely from school parties. “We’re leaving.”
“Me too.” He tells them.
“Harry could you give me a ride home?” One of the girls asks. Her eyes say a different story. “Their ride’s full.”
“Yeah?” He gets a bit stiff but follows it up with his easy smile.
The whole interaction makes me queasy and it’s wrong of me to.
After the shit show of my final year in school my first year in uni after spending the rest of the summer before with Nan really put my life in another direction. I really thought uni had done that, and did that to everyone. Yet here I was being pulled back into this and here he was the same. That shouldn’t surprise me.
I just thought—hoped, that something about the depth of our connection would have lingered between us. Enough so he didn’t just treat me like any other girl he’d hooked up with (hot one day cool the other) because it made me feel like an idiot for waiting to see if there was anything lingering. I had to draw a line and stand behind it.
“Well I’ll…see you around Styles.” I say to him so I could be the first to go and stop being witness to all this. I feel petty because I know how much he doesn’t like me calling him by his last name and I sense him grow rigid as I do.
His farewell in return smells like apathy as he heads towards his group and I try to convince myself it didn’t smell bitter like rejection. That I wasn’t falling into the same back-and-forth cycle with him as before.
Harry’s POV:
It’s my day off and after getting into an argument with my sister when she gets worked up about something I did or didn’t do, I needed to leave the house. I stalk the gym and when my playlist and my adrenaline runs out I shower and walk through the high street, catching a familiar face in one of the windows.
“Mate,” I grin at Ray working the counter at the coffee shop. It was weird seeing him in an apron all professional.
“Hey man! I was just thinking about you.” He claps my hand.
“Me? What?” I knock his forehead. “You doing alright?”
“I’m perfect,” he brushes my hand away. “Because of her.”
I turn to where his chin points to and it’s like my body just reacts before I can tell it to. My heart races and I stand up a bit taller.
“Yeah that’s it,” Ray laughs. “I knew it. She got some spell over you or something, look at you turning into Captain America.”
“Piss off,” I turn back to him whilst my brain comes up with a dozen ways to start talking to her. “Could I get a drink or am I just here to get the mick?”
“Yeah play dumb,” he swipes on his screen. “Cold brew?”
I pay for my usual and Ray motions for the next customer; shit, a line had formed.
Of all the opening lines I end up standing in front of YN and asking, “What’re you reading?”
It’s stupid. Wasn’t even a good line. But my brain doesn’t work right around her. I want to act normal but every time she looks at me it’s with those eyes that keep me up at night when I’m 17 again and brimming with anxiety around matters of the heart. It always felt like a feeling too serious for 17.
But here I was a year older and it was still here. Or at least the imprint of it was. And she probably didn’t care to have anything to do with me. She was just being mature and polite and I was still trying to figure out my angle with her. Do I play it flirty or disinterested like I stupidly did the other day. I couldn’t even enjoy the rest of that night because I kept thinking of her face as I played it too cool. Or do I see if she wants to hang out for the summer.
But if I was honest with myself I couldn’t just hang out with her and let it go at the end of summer. Things never ended like that with us.
I shove the weight of my emotions down, like my laundry back in uni, tamping it down to leave the surface empty and breezy. I’d be funny, flirty, light like everything was fine.
At least I could make up for the other day now.
“Oh,” she looks up. “Oh hey.”
I sit in the seat across from her so she doesn’t have to crane her neck but she stares as I sit. I hadn’t even asked. “Don’t worry I’m uh, not staying here.”
“That’s alright,” she shrugs. “Just grabbing a drink?”
“Yeah. Saw Ray working so I popped in. You were a bonus.”
“Oh was I?” She raises her brows. Unimpressed. Shite.
“Yeah.” I try to warm up a little. “Matcha?”
“Oh yeah,” she swirls the ice in her drink. “I already had a coffee this morning. Any more and I’d be so bloody jittery.”
“You seem like one of those people that could smash 3 cups no problem.”
“Noo,” she shakes her head. “I’m so weak when it comes to caffeine. Anything after like noon and I’m not sleeping well.”
I nod. “A lightweight.”
“I’m a lightweight for everything.” She says. She stiffens a little, the flush reappearing before she puts her book down on the table with a slam.
“A Year of…Magical…Thinking?” I try to read the title of the book upside down. “Any good?” It looks pretty plain. Like something you’re forced to read in English.
“It is but it’s like a lot. I’ve been reading it for 2 months.”
“I took the whole semester to read something once, I’m not one to judge.”
I take a sip of my drink and imagine the caffeine waking me up. Actually just talking to her is firing me awake, making this morning’s fight with Gemma feel so small and far away.
That’s followed by an anxiety, reminding me getting attached to a girl like this would not end well. Hell it didn’t the last time.
But I wasn’t; I was just talking to her. I tell myself that. It’s not like she cared to do anything more with me anyway.
“I’m gonna let you go back to reading,” I tell her after a beat.
“That’s awfully considerate of you.” She says with a straight face. When I raise a brow she raises one back. Snarky—I liked it. I couldn’t help it, any side of her was easy to like.
Chill, I remind myself.
I’m reminded of a memory that feels like a weird deja vu—trying to talk to her after school at yearbook when I was trying to clear the air but kept saying the wrong things. But she’s always had more grace than she needed.
“Actually before I leave you alone are you uh, going to Ray’s thing Friday?”
“Oh um he mentioned something about a party at his when I was ordering but the machines were pretty loud.”
“Has Dana not told you? It’s his birthday he’s inviting everyone back in town to his place. You should come. Dana’s probably gonna be there too.”
“Oh yeah? Alright maybe.” She picks her book back up again and cracks the spine.
“Cool. Bring your friends too—June, Juni? Juni right? And…”
“Rhia.” She nods. “They’re not actually in town right now.”
“Oh,” that made sense, why I kept seeing her by herself this summer. Unless she was with the folks at the cinema. “Well anyone you wanna invite I guess.”
“Alright.” She nods. With a smile she’s glancing back down at her page and I feel like I’ve been dismissed. I get up and say my goodbye, my time was up.
On my way back home I try to find a balance between my head and my heart. I don’t think she hated me like I thought she did but there’s also no legitimate reason she would want to be more than friends.
But I don’t know if I even wanted to be that. I just…wanted to be around her. A lot. And I wanted to have her smile and know it was for me. I wanted her to trust me and make me feel that way she did when she took my face in her hands and gazed at me for a full minute.
I wasn’t helping myself by showing up to the cinemas all the time and ignoring her for half of it. What was I trying to prove? And was it just to myself?
God, I was so done in and summer’s barely begun. I had to figure out what I wanted—these games I was playing weren’t helping me.
***Your POV:
When my cousin hears about Ray’s party he immediately decides he would show up. “A house party I’ve literally never gone to one.”
“They don’t have house parties up north?” I ask. He driving me into work Friday morning so he can have the car to drive him and his brother to the pool.
“Obviously they do. I’ve never been cool enough for an invite.”
Jace was a year younger than me and actually a lot cooler than I ever was. Maybe the standards there were different.
“I’m a theatre kid remember?”
“Oh yeah! Oh my god! I forgot.” I cackle. “I thought that was your brother.”
“No he does robotics. Somehow that’s cooler he’s been to more parties than I have.”
So that’s how I show up to Ray’s with Jace in tow.
Jace is an immediate hit at the party, or maybe it was Dana again introducing him to her cousin and everyone else. I notice Harry’s not here and try to forget that fact. I came here to hang out with Dana and make friends since I’d be in this town for the rest of the summer and my best friends were MIA.
And it works for the most part. Living with just my parents was turning out to be a certain kind of undoing so I desperately needed to build a social life. Ray and Jace take a liking to each other and they make up a music game trying to get everyone to guess a song based on its first second or two. They were also music nerds it seemed.
“Hey you have to know this,” Jace comes up to me. “Listen closely okay?”
He’d had a few to drink and it was incredibly obvious now that he never went to house parties because not only was he slurring his words a little but he was definitely drunk on the attention from Dana’s crew. It was kinda cute, I felt bad for not doing something like this for him earlier.
“I am so bad at this game J,” I had only gotten one correct so far out of a hundred rounds.
“Noo,” he rocks my head. “Listen!”
I slap his hand away and lean in to hear the one note.
A single guitar note.
“What!?” I say as soon as the note plays. Damn it sounded so familiar too.
“Please!” Jace groans.
“Seven Nation Army,” someone answers from the entrance.
From the way people’s faces light up and from the voice itself I know who it is.
I half-turn but Jace has his forehead on my shoulder pretending to weep. “How could you do this to me.” Theatre kid indeed.
“I’m sorry!” I laugh. “I needed another note it would have came to me!”
“She really is awful at this,” Dana comes around to where I stand.
“Not you too-“
“We used to literally karaoke this at her Nan’s.” Jace explains to her our top hits as kids. My chest aches like it usually does when I think of my grandparents and the house that would never be home again.
“You disappoint me.” Jace sighs and flops down on the couch beside me as Dana leaves us. “I disown you.”
“I’m older than you, you do know that?”
“Fine. Emancipate. Whatever.”
“You’re so dramatic.” I laugh but the conversation behind me grows closer and I eavesdrop.
“Dana,” Harry says. That’s probably where she went.
“Did you bring the mixer?” Dana asks curtly.
“Yep,” he says. And then lower, “Who’s that?”
“He came with her.” Dana replies. They’re talking about Jace. About me.
“He from town?” Harry asks, obviously not recognizing my cousin. My neck pricks wanting to turn around so badly but I lean over the couch, over Jace who’s sitting there to look at what song he’s queuing up.
“This is cheating,” he tells me.
“I forfeit anyway,” I say with my chin on his shoulder.
I don’t hear what Dana replies with behind me except when she asks, “You didn’t bring a date? I’m surprised.”
“It’s not like that,” Harry says. My stomach flips. What did that mean?
“Hey Har, I didn’t think you were actually showing after your texted me,” as if on cue a new voice enters the fray—flirty and feminine. I hear Dana snort.
“So. Guess there’ll be no Harry time for the birthday boy now-“
“I’m here aren’t I?” Harry snaps at her.
“Ok clearly you two are-“
“No sorry,” Harry cuts the girl he was texting off. “It’s Dana. Let’s find someplace else.”
Stupid. Of course he’s going to head off with the first girl who goes up to him.
He’s been giving mixed signals all summer. At the cafe the other day he was all talkative and I think I did a good job by playing it nonchalant, like he didn’t affect me, but it was all getting a bit much—under my skin.
“That’s a good one,” I hear from over my shoulder. Both Jace and I turn to Dana.
“This! Is cheating!” Jace repeats.
She holds her hands up and backs away. In one of them are two bottles. The mixers. She notices me eyeing it.
“Can I make you a drink?” She asks. “I’m half decent at it.”
“Why not,” I decide. I was losing Jace’s game, he was obviously doing okay for himself here, and Harry was…well, he was Harry. As disappointing as that was.
In the kitchen Dana does a decent job at making a few drinks. “This is my present to Ray. A signature cocktail.”
“Is this self-taught?”
“Kinda. My cousin’s a bartender, she would make us virgin drinks back in the day. I would always stick around because it fascinated me how many ways she could make a few ingredients taste different.”
“That’s adorable.” I tell her.
“Shut up.”
“You two close?”
“Sorta. We’re the only two close in age. The rest of our family’s like a decade older than us so we always hung out growing up.” She shakes the cups in her hand. “Plus he’s always been more social—invited me to all the parties until our friends just mashed together.”
“That’s…nice.” I didn’t have family like that. Jace was my mom’s brother’s kid and we only saw each other a couple times a year. Most of our relationship was over text. So when Dana asks me the question back I tell her just that.
“Speaking of friends, what’s up with you and Harry?” I ask after our conversation dies out. When she clenches her jaw I add, “If that’s not nosey.”
“It is,” she glances at me. “But I’d be asking you the same thing so I don’t mind.”
“Oops.”
Her mouth twists into a smile. “Ehm, he’s just a shite friend isn’t he.”
“Oh? What’d he do?”
“He’s just…he promises to show up for you and then he doesn’t even do the bare minimum.”
Something drops in my stomach. I knew that sort of disappointment firsthand. So had he not changed? “What was he s’posed to show up for?”
“My birthday,” she sets her cups down and leans on the countertop. “Don’t judge. It’s stupid holding this grudge over a birthday. But it also feels like more than just this?”
“Yeah.” I agree, waiting for the details.
“I’ve been having a shitty year, he knows about it. The group insisted I go big for my birthday they all planned it to help me feel better—Harry was all for it. Even came back early a few days to town to make it! Then. He didn’t make it and we couldn’t even reach him the whole day. Found out later he got so pissed he slept the day off. Oh. And he promised to help with drinks and cake so we had to scramble once we realized he ghosted us.”
“Jeez. Did he at least text you once he sobered?”
“No!” She laughs a bitter thing. “Didn’t remember or apologize until the day after.“
“Wow.” I can feel her hurt. Bad news.
“But he’s always like this! Promises something then finds something more fun…then he’s gone. And the rest of the guys are used to it—they forgave him. Ray thinks I’m being a girl about it because I won’t accept the half dozen ways he’s apologized-“
“That many? Seriously?”
“Yeah,” she chokes out a laugh. “Shite. I’m being the dickhead right? I mean he can be a good friend but sometimes you just feel like you’re more his friend than he’s yours? Ray told me he’s changed but I’ve not seen it.”
I nod. I got it. It felt like my final year at school, it was seeing him go off with another girl tonight, it was wondering if he was coming to the cinema watching film after film just for me or not.
Dana finishes off the drinks and leaves to come back with Ray and the group. They descend on her drinks and cake she’d pulled out of the fridge she was hiding with an enthusiasm that meant she’s done this for them before. That they probably all did this for each other—no wonder Harry’s actions stung.
It was sweet how much they compliment her and Ray thanks her until she rolls her eyes at her cousin and tells them all they had low standards before slipping out.
I go to follow her when she slips away, sliding off my stool, but Harry’s one of the taste testers and he corners me a couple meters from the exit. Great.
“Hey.”
He’s in a nice-fitting grey tee that shows his biceps off. Nice looking biceps with a couple tattoos. That I was not staring at.
“Hey,” I reply slowly.
“Y’have any?” He raises his mostly empty cup and empty plate.
“Yeah.” I try to relax my shoulders. This was just a casual convo. There were no expectations between us, just old classmates having a friendly convo at a house party. I wasn’t mad at him and I had no expectation. “She’s good!”
“Always has been. I tried complimenting her but…” I grimace at his words and his face droops. “She told you?”
“Sort of…”
“Did she—what do I do? What do I say? I don’t know why she’s this angry after I apologized. Did she say something?”
I shrug, “I couldn’t tell you even if she did.”
“Girl code,” he sighs.
“Or just being a good friend.” I take gender out of the equation. I would expect anyone I called a friend to behave the same way.
“Right,” he leans against the wall. “So no hints?”
“Well if you think she’s un-proportionately angry then maybe dig deeper. I dunno Harry.”
“You’re right. Of course you’re fucking right.” He runs a hand through his silky hair and the ghost of their memory slides over my hands.
I immediately take the distraction. “Cake. If you’re interested.”
“Ooh,” he tries to brush past me to get some. “And drinks.”
“J,” I stop him. “Maybe take it easy on the drink?”
“Why? Aren’t you driving us home?”
“That’s not what we agreed.” I glare.
“Well I can’t drive anyway. You’ve driving and I’m having another drink.”
“Jace.”
“You’re not my mum.”
“Fine. Your funeral,” I sigh, trying to breathe out the annoyance.
Harry is privy to the whole exchange and he looks amused when I look back at him.
“What?” I accidentally snap at him instead.
“Who’s that?”
“Jace? My cousin.”
His brows furrow and when he smiles next it spreads over his face slow like molasses and just as sweet too. “That’s your cousin?”
“Yeah? He’s staying with me this week. Obviously doesn’t get out often.”
He looks down, still smiling. “Here I thought you brought a date to the party.”
“A…date?” My eyes bulge out. “You thought Jace-“
It all made sense, I laugh. He thought I was here with Jace and Dana totally set that up.
“Is it that funny?” He chuckles.
“It is,” I pat his shoulder. I was going to find Dana and ask if she did that on purpose.
He turns to follow my steps and I slip away before he can ask me anything else.
***
I’m waiting outside the toilet. It’s been a few hours of socializing and getting to know people from school I’d barely said a few words to in all the years we were together. As fun as it was I was getting sleepy and decided to go home right after emptying my bladder.
The music downstairs is still going strong. There was karaoke at one point, a penny travelling around that I’d held my hand over my cup the whole time for, and memories passed around like a blunt. Most I wasn’t part of so it was fun hearing parts of school I knew about but didn’t experience. I missed my friends desperately though.
Jace had found a girl and a corner and when I walked upstairs they were cuddled into each other still talking. At least he wasn’t drinking—mum would kill me if I brought him home wasted.
“C’mon,” I mutter outside the door.
“Oh hey!” Harry exits from a room down the hall. “Hey!”
“Hi…” I notice his pacing and the stench coming off of him. I ignore the flashes of another party that overlays itself on the present.
I didn’t want to remember that. “Having fun?”
“A little,” he holds his hand up to show me a pinch between his fingers. “You left me or I would have had more fun.”
“Ah,” I nod. “Right. Laying it on thick of course. Weren’t you with a girl earlier?”
“What girl?” He leans on the wall beside me and his eyes look at me like he wants to skip the small talk and move to something else. As much as it makes my heart race, and a small part of me admits to missing the way it all felt, I was too sober for this.
“Really? Playing dumb isn’t cute Styles.”
“Fine. I don’t know where she is. Why? Jealous?”
I snort. “In your dreams babe. I just thought you had the trifecta you needed for your perfect night.”
“Yeah and was’tha?” He raises his brows.
“Drink, drugs, and a girl.”
“I’ve changed y’know, give me some credit.”
“So people keep saying. Haven’t seen it though so excuse me for thinking you’re the same old.”
He holds a hand to his heart. “I have changed. Like obviously I still like the booze and the drugs but any girl won’t do.”
He was such a dick. But I was also far from the cool, calm, collected girl I was trying to be—seeing him drunk was triggering something in me. “Being selective about the girl you choose for the night doesn’t mean you’ve changed. God.”
I don’t know why I feel as defensive as I do. He’s said things to me before. But they felt like lies, lies I had really wanted to believe.
“It does. I don’t just hang out with anyone now. That girl was nice but I wasn’t hanging out hanging out with her. I haven’t seen her in hours now.”
I hadn’t seen him in hours; he wasn’t with the group downstairs so I just assumed he was upstairs with her.
“Ok.” I find my chest tightening. Dangerous territories again.
“Ok.”
“You have a type now. Cool.”
“Yeah exactly.” He slurs. “Sh’was nice. But she wasn’t…well, you know.”
I raise a brow, “what?”
“C’mon y’know,” he scratches the back of his neck, not quite answering.
“No! What’re you on about?!”
“She’s not…she’s not you,” he says without looking at me directly.
You’re different. You make me feel different.
I stiffen and turn to face him fully, biting back the desire to push and see what else might come tumbling out. If he still meant those things. If the string tied in between us was still holding or a figment of my imagination. But as the tidal wave of thoughts and feelings crash over me, above it all—or maybe under it all, I just feel tired.
“That’s…a hell of a thing to admit.”
He runs a hand through his hair, meets my eye. “Is it?”
“Yes!”
“Thought it was obvious.”
Did he actually? Jeez.
Of course at one point I believed him—it may have seemed obvious then, but Harry was never transparent. He was always like a window fogged by a rainy day. And so far this summer he made it seem like we were old mates and everything was history. In comparison to what he’s just said it feels so far off and it’s crazy to me how he could have been so casual—how I could have misread how he felt, when really his stupid confession now is his drunken truth.
When I don’t reply he tips in to me and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “You grew your hair out.”
His hand traces the strand all the way down to my waist.
“Y-yeah.” My voice sticks. “I decided I liked it long.”
“I like it long too.” The strand of hair grows lighter as he lets go and places his hand on my waist instead.
My body reacts to his hand splayed on me even though I don’t want it to. Flashes of memories come rushing back, but mostly the feeling of being warm and seen in his arms.
He’s close now, close enough that I can smell him underneath the weed and whatever else happened in that room. I imagine if I tucked my face into his neck just a few inches away he would smell the exact same.
His breath catches too like I’m affecting him as much as he affects me.
Two thoughts occur to me: Dangerous territories. And: I wasn’t playing this game.
“That’s nice.” With every bit of willpower I have, I take his hand and remove it from my waist. I deserved more than this. “But what are you doing?”
He looks confused. “I…I just thought…”
“What? That you’re drunk or high? And you think because you find me here I’m just going to…”
He shrugs, has the decency to look ashamed for once. Growth? I was looking for it too much.
“God, you are the same old.” Maybe it was me who disappointed myself each time.
“What?” His eyebrows scrunch together. “What’s that mean, same old?!”
“This—you! You just…you come to me not sober and expect to like, pick up the thread from a lifetime ago? I don’t get it. We’ve had a year apart at uni and you think we’re just going to indulge in bad habits?”
“Woah,” he stands straighter and his height means I have to look up at him. “Why are you accusing me? You were giving me signs I thought…I thought…”
“I don’t know if you are thinking.” I cross my arms. “There are no signs—this is so you!”
“Explain.” He looks confused and my heart is beating too fast to even talk.
“I really have to spell it out—You don’t want to talk, to communicate or clear the air or-or even ask me anything seriously. Actually you want to be hot and cold with me ever since we saw each other this summer. And then when you’re high or drunk you want to confess these…these things to me that just make everything so confusing! Genuinely I don’t know what you want from me but if it’s just a shag that’s not…I don’t do that. I’m not going to be that girl for you anymore Harry.”
“You’re not that girl,” his voice grows gruff and he tries to tug my arms to uncross them. He tries to hold my hands, “You’ve never been that girl. I never said you were!”
“Great.” I shake his hands off and don’t admit what his words do to me, what his touch does. “So have a little decency. And respect. And stop coming on to me when you’ve had some liquid courage. When you can say things you don’t mean.”
“I do mean i-“
“No you don’t.” I cut him off. Either he was in denial or I was but I couldn’t find out tonight. “We haven’t seen each other in so long! And the last time we were talking i-it wasn’t great. You can’t go from that to this now, confessing bullshit after all this time. God—I’m tired of hearing your empty words and thinking they might mean something.”
“I didn’t…didn’t mean to. Hurt you or anything. M’sorry.”
The floor may as well have fallen out from under me. Harry’s just said sorry? And accepted it without a fight or being a dick about it? Jeez.
“Good.” I don’t even know what to do anymore. Normally I left in a cloud of emotions to escape him but suddenly we’re at a mutual understanding. And I still have to pee.
I turn awkwardly back to the closed door and decide I could wait to go at home. I didn’t want to be stuck here with Harry, afraid of what I might say in his clairty of vulnerability. I had to go home and sort out what all this meant.
“I’m gonna go home.” I announce. It comes out a little too loud and formal. At the exact same moment he asks, “Did’you wanna talk-“
The hall grows awkward.
“Oh,” he finally replies to me.
“Um, best not to.” So I reply to him. “I don’t…think there’s much sense to talk through it now. Not…ancient history.”
And I wasn’t lying.
But the way he made me feel now, and the fact that I have the knowledge of the things he confessed in the dark seared into my brain made my feelings for him now confusing.
There was a push and pull—push because I didn’t want to get hurt, because we were only here for a summer before we went back to uni and building the lives outside of this small town. And pull because of the things he’s said, the way he clearly still feels drawn to me the exact way I still feel drawn to him. That despite being this boy he was still the person that held me during dark times.
“Ancient history? You believe that?” His face holds cautious hope.
“Mostly.” I admit. Let that hope remain cautious.
We stand in a weird quiet for a second—too familiar to be strangers, too weighed down to be anything else.
He clears his throat and sticks his hand out. “So. Friends?”
I stare at his hand. Did I want to be friends—no, could I be friends with him? After our past, could I be friends with Harry?
But what choice did I have if I didn’t want my system to be so shot the entire summer. I would obviously be seeing him for the next couple months, and it was exhausting being the only one to bear the load of our past every time I saw him. Maybe I could forget the empty promises, the warm confessions. Maybe this was growing up.
I clasp his hand and chalk the tingle in my hand to static shock. “Sure. Whatever. Friends.”
“Thanks,” he says with eyes half closed in a smile. “I’ll see you around.”
“Probably.” I shrug. “Small town.”
He laughs and the sound echoes in my brain as I head down to find Jace. Oh god, I forgot the dopamine hit my nervous system took every time I made him laugh. How pathetic was I, I hope I made the right decision.
***Harry’s POV
I don’t know what I was thinking the last few weeks—that time healed all wounds and also sprinkled accountability into the wind? Or that somehow I could show her I changed by trying to remind her of what we could be while I had one too many drink and too many drugs in my system.
I’m tired of hearing your empty words and thinking they might mean something.
I didn’t want to be that guy but somehow that’s the guy I still was. I tried hard to grow up this last year; hooking up with any girl stopped being so appealing, I started wanting to find connection instead. I worked hard in football. I showed up to enough classes to take it all seriously and kept my grades up. I tried to say sorry when it was my fault.
I thought that’s what growing up was. But every time I was around her I always remembered the gap between how far I was from actually being grown-up. I forgot how much she made me want to be better. Not just for her, but for the people in my life. To hold myself to a standard.
And she might have said the shite between us was mostly ancient history but that didn’t mean I didn’t have other things to hold to this standard.
And the first person on my list to sort this out with was Dana.
I show up to her starting shift just as she’s walking through the doors.
“She’s not in today.” She says as she brushes past me.
“I’m not here for her. Dana.”
“I gotta clock in.” She just glances at me.
“I’ve been waiting here for you for half hour could I at least get a few minutes to talk?”
She turns, a blaze in her eye. “Wanna talk about waiting around?”
Shite. As much as it triggers my defences I was in the wrong here. I drop my head and sigh, frustrated at myself. I couldn’t get this right. “Yeah. I deserve that. And I’m sorry but you already know that. I don’t know what this turned into. Just tell me what it is you’re so mad at me about so I can try to make up for it?”
Her face loses its fury, she looks almost confused. It lasts a mere moment. “You’re a shitty friend.”
“You don’t believe that.” I missed one birthday was she really going to cut me off over that?
“I do.” She drops her shoulders, readying for an explanation. “For so long Harry…you know how hard it is for me to make friends. You took the time to understand me so I considered you one of my best friends even though you were kind a dick to the other girls at school. But I didn’t have a lot of friends and I bargained you were just a player. We cut through each other’s bullshit. I let it slide. A lot slide.”
“You won’t have to let anything else slide I’ll be more-“
“But I realized you never saw me as your close friend.” She cuts me off. “I didn’t even come close to that position in your life.”
“That’s shit and you know it.”
“No I know what I’m saying. Look, I know we’re gonna see each other around this summer, I’ll lay off. But I just don’t think we can be friends like that. It’s not fair to me.”
She leaves me with absolutely nothing to say. I’m so confused. She just wanted to stop being mates? Nobody did that.
“I can’t try!?” I try to catch up to her and I hear someone shout at me as I hop the ropes that are supposed to hold non ticket-holders back.
“Dana you know him?” The guy at the tickets station asks.
“Yeah, he’s leaving don’t worry.” She turns to reassure them. She looks back at me. “What?”
“You’ve just given up I can’t try to be better? You’ve made up your mind?”
“Pretty much I mean-“ she scratches her head and then fluffs her bangs out. “Take the last few weeks for example. I’ve always had a part time job here. You’ve never once dropped by or nothing. Then she starts working here and suddenly you’re like a movie buff—and what’s up with you and her anyway? I thought she dumped your arse back in the day?”
I don’t even know where to start. But she’s right I never came to the cinemas just to see her and I’ve been here a lot this summer because YN was working here and it didn’t seem like she hated me so I wanted to know if I could work up the courage to ask her to hang out or something. Not that it mattered anymore after my behaviour at the party, which was a shame.
“Nothing’s happening. We agreed to that at Ray’s party.” White lie, I hope Dana never finds out. “And yeah I’ve never come around here to see you. I didn’t realize you wanted that-“
“I don’t,” she sighs. “I don’t want that Harry. That would be creepy you showing up here just to see me.”
“What? You’re being confusing.”
“Ok look,” she throws her hands up. “It’s like, you did it for her and suddenly I see what you are capable of if you cared. Like you can put in effort into a relationship if you cared? And I’ve never seen that for me.”
“Hey I’ve let you call me whenever last semester to talk shit. And I’ve picked you up whenever you needed me to. And we always hung out at parties together back in school.”
“Because we were in the same place! And I appreciate all the rides but I asked you for them. And! Ray had to tell you about the shit I was going through for you to pick up my calls. Don’t you get it? You’re capable of giving a damn which made me realize you don’t give a damn about me!”
She’s breathing hard when she’s done and her words hit me like a tsunami. I understood why it was important to her but why did it matter so much.
“You know guys don’t even think about this shite.”
“Yeah why do you think men struggle the most with loneliness? And then become incels on the internet.”
“Why does this all matter so much to you if I promise to do better!”
“Seriously?” She looks at me like I’m an idiot and I probably am. “I don’t want friends that think I’m a bloody obligation. As shite as this last year has been I’ve also met people who never made me feel like I was second rate. They always showed up.”
It was true. Dana was a lot more of a butterfly the few times I’ve seen her this summer. All the times she called me…I don’t know if I’d ever called her.
“I-“
“What?” She asks.
“Well I want to say I’m sorry but I know it doesn’t mean shite to you.”
Her face softens; the eyebrows that were two sharp lines curve down and the corners of her mouth do too. “It does mean something alright? I appreciate hearing you say it. I just can’t be honest and say it’s fine.”
Was I good at anything? Have I even grown up? Shitty boyfriend, shitty hookup, shitty friend.
“Anyway I gotta go for my shift now I’m late.”
“Sorry.” I say automatically and we crack a rueful smile. Dana waves me off and my drive back home is in a cloud of feeling sorry for myself.
I decide not to go straight home. I drive around, up and down the high street, and through my old schools. As I turn up a street I spot a very familiar person and I perk up. She turns when she hears the rush of my speeding car.
“Hey!” I stop ahead of her and wave. Just realizing she’s on the phone.
“Hey!” She waves and mouths at me.
“Need a ride?” I ask.
“Hey-Ju-hey, one sec okay?” She says into the phone as she approaches my window. She leans into it, her phone pressed against her chest. “Hey! I’m actually on a walk on purpose?”
“Didn’t realize you were on the phone.” I whisper.
“That’s alright,” her smile is sunny. Despite screwing up at Ray’s party her smile is genuine and it warms my face. I actually believe her about being friends especially when she asks: “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I say too quickly. Lines form between her brows.
“You sure?”
“Yeah s’nothing,” I fake a smile. “Nothing I can’t work out. Now go back to your call. I’ll see you around.”
She reaches in and squeezes my shoulder. It shouldn’t be as touching as it is but I feel its imprint long after I drive away.
***Your OV;
I’m talking to somebody named Harmen in the kitchen of someone’s house I forget the name of the following Friday. It had been a busy week at work and I was supposed to be here with Dana but she took a shift change last minute with someone so she wouldn’t have to work Sunday. I didn’t blame her.
I could’ve just not shown but after getting my face ready and blow-drying my hair I thought at least a drink should be had before going home.
“But she said it doesn’t actually hit you until after uni.” Harmen says, we were talking about feeling like adults.
“Maybe we just changed one bubble for another,” I agree. “Like once we graduate and out of that bubble there’s not really anything else other than…Life.”
“Life.”
“Yeah like putting your big girl pants on and making decisions and shite.”
“Fuck me,” she rolls her eyes. “I suddenly want to chain smoke cigarettes.”
“Look at us having existential crises on a Friday night.”
“Lot of fun we are.” She laughs, the eyeliner around her eyes make them pop as she does emphasizing her hazel eyes.
“You’ve got lovely eyes by the way.” I tell her.
“Aw thanks,” she takes the compliment well. “The only good thing I got from my dad.”
“Cheers,” I hold my bottle to her and she clinks her cup to mine, a silent agreement to stop being such downers tonight.
“So you seeing still hitting that one?” She asks as Harry steps into view.
“Oh please don’t say it like that.” I cringe. “And no, not in-“
“Oh he’s looking-shit he’s coming this way. I’ll make myself gone.”
And just like that she deserts me and just like that, I’m exposed. No buffer or out. Only Harry, closing the distance between us with that tentative smile that used to make hating him harder.
I haven’t properly seen him since Tuesday, when he popped into the theatre with some mates and shouted my name, totally embarrassing me as everyone turned to look at him only to see him waving at me. I’d pretended not to know him which I know only made him happier.
But it was like we were old pals. Which I guess we were now. It still felt weird. Like he was trying to give me space after what I said by being friendly from afar. But now that he had backed off, it left this quiet gap. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
He stops in front of me, one hand tucked into his hoodie, drink dangling from the other.
“I’m gonna take it as a good sign you don’t look like you’re gonna run away,” he says, voice low like he was scared any louder and I might just. I didn’t blame him.
“I’ll take it as a good sign you’re not slurring your words,” I fold my arms.
He grins, “S’too early in the night.”
“Still got time to embarrass yourself then? Or actually I should embarrass you here after what you did to me at work.”
“I was just calling your name.” He says innocently with a shit-eating grin on.
“Not at work,” I sigh. “I didn’t realize being friends meant putting up with your bullshit again.”
He smiles to himself, like he’s pleased. I take a sip of my drink, eyes flicking past him to the crowd and ask. “What was up with the other day?”
He tilts his head with a brow raised.
“When you were driving by. You looked—” I search for the right word, “—stressed.”
“Stressed?” He teases but when I don’t let him get away with it his smile dies down. “Just not my day.”
“It’s fine,” I say, even though it’s not. I know he’s avoiding being vulnerable probably because he’s not drunk yet. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”
He doesn’t reply straight away, then shrugs, trying for casual but it’s not sticking. “Dana. Tried sorting things out between us but…turns out they’re not. Might never be.”
“What’s that mean?”
He exhales through his nose. “Wish I bloody knew. She decided I’m a shitty friend and that’s it. No more chances.”
He doesn’t meet my eye while he tells me about it, my clue that he’s more affected by Dana cutting him off than his tone suggests.
I thought it was something she would get over. I figured if you were friends with him during his school years you could handle anything from him. Guess not.
“I’m trying to fix it,” he adds, a bit more defensively.
I believe he wants to fix it, which counts. I think. He looks back at me then, properly with something like surprise on his face.
“This is usually the part where you say something cutting?” He jokes, slicing the seriousness in half.
“Well,” I sigh. “I didn’t bring my cards to read from tonight so I’m all out of cutting.”
He lets out a breath, almost a laugh. “Lucky me.”
We stand in a silence that’s not entirely awkward but still holds a medium of anticipation. Like waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“So you just came by to chat, Styles?” I ask when it becomes too much.
“Yeah…” he side eyes me, hesitates, and continues. “I didn’t come over with some plan to make your evening hell.”
“Is that how you usually come up to me? Cuz that puts things into perspective…”
I catch his eye with a smile and he dips his head back with a laugh. When he looks back at me I have his full attention.
“No actually I just saw you and thought, maybe you wouldn’t hate it if I came over to chat?”
“Hm. I don’t,” I say tentatively. “Especially because you’re not even drunk yet!”
“Now that, I planned,” he grins.
“Good, you’re learning.” I pat his shoulder. Then I make myself clear even though I can’t say it with my full chest, “but I’m not looking to repeat history or anything.”
“I’m not either,” he says quickly. “I swear. That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Good.” I nod. “You weren’t too drunk the other night to forget you suggested we be just friends right?”
He clinks his empty bottle against my mostly full one. “Just friends. Of course.”
And in a not-so-friendly moment we lock eyes with each other and a thousand things bloom inside of me as the history between us swells into a tidal wave.
Then somewhere behind him, someone shouts over the music in a booming voice. It breaks the weird moment. We look away, slightly embarrassed—or at least I am. So much for putting my money where my mouth is.
“Now that I’ve lost a friend,” he sighs. “I’ve got a space to fill so our arrangement works perfectly.”
I scoff, glad for once at his perchance for turning serious moments into a joke, “I am not your friend rebound.“
Rebound. Not the best choice of word—we stiffen slightly but he uses his usual humour to deflect.
“Fine I’ll kick Someone else out to fit you in.”
“You’re quite stingy with your friends,” I comment.
“I’m selective. You’re stingy with yours you hung out with two girls for all of school.”
My jaw drops. “You did not just say that. Those are my best friends.”
“Yeah I’ve got those too, more than 2.”
“Then they’re not your best friends. It’s a very niche place in your life.”
“This is getting too girl-detail-y for me.”
“Too what?”
“The little details girls talk about? And they make these definitions about everything so they can categorize it all?”
I’m surprised at the accuracy of his observation. We did do that. He grins and leans into me, suddenly in my very personal space.
“I’m not just funny I’m observant too.”
“Babes,” I hope my racing heart isn’t obvious. “Your mum tell you that?”
His grin falters and mine grows, got him.
But neither of us wins as the tidal wave returns and we’re drowning in each other’s eyes again. Damn.
“I should go,” I say even though I had nowhere to be and nobody who was waiting for me at this party.
“Alright,” he says, stepping back like he knows not to follow. Baby steps, if we were to turn our history into just friends.
Maybe we’ll pretend we’re fine. Nothing weird, nothing heavy. Maybe we’ll be really good at it.
***
The mall attached to the theatre is always weirdly cold. It smelled like stale popcorn and Lush bath bombs, and everyone looks like they’re assaulted by the harsh lighting above.
I’m on break with an iced coffee in hand, still in my ugly polo. I had to cover for Lena last minute today and barely made it to work on time for it. It’s the first moment I’ve had to myself all day, and I’ve just managed to snag one of the benches near the cafe when I clock him.
Harry. And a girl.
Tall, brunette, cute of course. She’s flipping through a rack of magazines inside WHSmiths, looking annoyingly put together. She’s wearing whatever is the opposite of an ugly polyester staff polo.
Harry’s next to her, gesturing at something in the magazine, then laughing like he’s said the most hilarious thing in the world.
As I get more of her face I recognize her from the last few weeks—he’s brought her to watch movies before.
My stomach twists stupidly.
You’re friends now, that’s what you wanted. I tell myself. You agreed to friends knowing he has a rotation of girls.
I sip my shitty coffee and look away.
He was going to hang out and hook up with more girls than I’ll be able to count. That’s what guys like that did and being his friend just meant accepting it. The whole purpose of this was knowing I would see him all summer and trying to do the mature thing to—
“Oi,” comes his voice, cutting through the thoughts in my head.
I look up. He’s spotted me and he’s walking over. Alone.
I pretend like I just noticed him. “Oh. Hey.”
“You on break?”
I glance down at my polo. “No, I just wear this sort of thing for fun. It’s like—retail-core?”
He grins. “I have no idea what any of that means weirdo.”
“Says the guy who just came up to me to chat.” My eyes flick back to where he came from damnit. I wasn’t supposed to know.
“That’s my sister,” he says, nodding back toward the girl still inside, still reading something in the magazine.
I hesitate. “Your... sister?”
“Yep. Her car’s in the shop so I’m here to drive her and keep her company while she finds a card for one of her friends who had a baby? She’s sort of having a crisis about that.”
I glance over at the girl again. She’s now holding up a massive glittery card with a fortune teller’s ball whose huge font I can make out saying “I see shits and giggles…”.
“How old is she?”
“She’s a few years older than us. This friend’s like 24 though.”
I try to act casual, like I didn’t spend the last sixty seconds making myself feel okay that he was with a date at the mall. I take a sip of my coffee that’s mostly just watery ice now.
He studies me in the silence. “Wait—you think she was a date?”
“What? No,” I say, far too quickly. “When did I—Why would I think that?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Bit defensive.”
“Bit full of yourself.”
He grins wider, clearly enjoying himself. “You did though. You totally did.”
“I didn’t even see her properly. Or you! She just looked too young to have mom-friends.”
“You were going to have a cry in the loo after this weren’t you?”
“Wow! You just wish that’s what was happening here.”
“You’re such a bad liar!”
“You’ve just got a shite lie detector. Why would I even care who that was—I just didn’t know you had a sister! Anyway, don’t you have someone else to harass?” I was saying too many words but they just keep coming out.
“You’re my only victim today.”
“No wonder you’re here with your sister.” I roll my eyes, but I don’t tell him to leave. He’s got that easy energy—like we used to before our expectations of each other turned us into other people.
“Yeah and?” He scrunches his brow.
I regret saying it as I have to explain the joke, “Not with a date otherwise they’d be another victim? Nevermind.”
I pray the awkwardness isn’t as transparent as my lies are to him.
“So that wouldn’t-“ He cuts himself off and laughs to cover up a strange vibe coming off of him. “That wouldn’t bother you?”
Oh my god. “If you brought a date to the mall!?” I try to go for unbothered.
“Yeah-“
“Dude we talked about this—we’re just friends. I don’t care who you hook up with. Haven’t in a long time.”
“So you did once upon a time,” he quirks a brow.
“Not the point.” I kick his foot.
“I know,” he shuffles aside and turns to look over his shoulder in the direction of his sister. “I know. Just confirming.”
“Actually if you brought a girl to the mall of all places I’d think it’s sad.”
That eases some of the weird energy that had seeped in.
He glances down at my coffee. “Well that coffee looks sad.”
“It is.” I swirl the watery dredges. “They were running out of ice so I’ve got lukewarm regret.”
He laughs, loud enough that a passing mum glances over, frowning at the noise.
From inside the shop, his sister also hears and looks over at him to wave him over with two cards in the air. He puts a thumb up and starts to step away.
“Duty calls—I’ll let you get back to your break,” he says, flashing that same lopsided smile that’s been getting people into trouble since Year 7.
“Cheers Styles,” I say, trying not to look so bummed he was leaving. Trying even harder not to feel anything at all.
He pauses, twisting his mouth, “I do have a first name.”
“And?” I ask, knowing where he might be going.
“You’re doing this on purpose.” He concludes after studying my face. “I see...”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I feign ignorance but my mouth betrays me, twitching into a smile.
“So you say.” He studies me for a second longer as he walks backwards to where his sister is. “it really is a lot nicer talking when you’re not storming away in the middle YLN.”
He grins when I roll my eyes, knowing he was too far for a retort. And then he’s gone leaving behind the same weird pull he always does—like a tiny speck of me left with him and the rest of me wants to catch up to it.
***
The living room’s packed with bodies and the TV's on full volume for a match everyone's acting like is life or death. I’m perched on the arm of a sofa, nursing the same drink I’ve had for the past hour, watching a group scream at the players like they’ve personally trained them.
Dana’s off somewhere with someone she met near the drinks table—tall, tattooed, and flirty as hell. They were deep in conversation last I checked, leaning into each other like no one else existed, thus sitting here nursing my drink.
I feel someone step up beside me.
“Fancy you here,” Harry says, voice pitched lower than usual. “Haven’t seen you around all week.”
I look up. “Yeah I wasn’t in town.”
Truth was mum and dad had been doing my head in so I’d headed off early on my visit to Nan. It had been exactly what I wanted, summer days in the bungalow Nan lived in with her sister. And both of them, glowing with a tan, keeping me entertained with quiet chatter about their Florida trip, while I exchanged stories from work.
I’d also complained about living at home again, they had told me I needed to talk to other humans outside of work so I had taken Dana up on this party. It was a mix of people I went to school with who were home for the summer, the year before us, and friends of all these people. The room I was in mostly was filled with our school’s football team.
“Everything alright?” He asks with genuine concern.
I smile, “yep. Just visiting family. Back to regular scheduling now.”
Being home again I’d also gotten lonely. It had gotten to a point where I was asking myself what I was doing with my life and if I should have stayed for a summer semester rather than come home. I was gripped with a realization that my life felt both overwhelming and small at the same time.
And above it all, I began to question why I didn’t have a boyfriend or someone to call mine. It was probably the hormones but seeing Harry tonight makes my stomach do some flips. It must be the leftover hormones.
Harry smiles at what I’ve said. His eyes flick past me. Just for a second, and it dies down. He shifts slightly to the right.
“You avoiding someone?” I ask.
I follow his gaze, even though I already know. Dana’s on the other side of the room now, laughing at something Tattoo Arms said, head thrown back.
“She’s not going to curse you from across the room, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I say.
He frowns. “Wasn’t looking at her.”
“Right.”
He sighs. Scrubs a hand through his hair. “Okay. Maybe I was.”
I let that sit for a second. Then I motion with my hand, like go on.
“She’s really acting like we never used to be mates.”
“She did say she’d do that. Since you stood her up.”
“I know! I’m reminded every time I try to talk to her. I tried to make it up to her!”
“Your issue’s not with me stop shouting,” I scold.
“Sorry,” his volume goes down by half. He looks at me then, properly. “But I know. I was just being—me, I guess. Didn’t think it’d matter that much. Now we’re bloody strangers.”
I don’t say anything.
He shifts on his feet. “She used to annoy me all the time…we annoyed each other, but we were friends. And now I see her and she acts like I’m the creepy lad who tried it with her in Year 10.”
I bite back a smile. “Did you?”
“Maybe,” he mutters.
I laugh once, but he looks really upset. I feel bad. “Wanna go somewhere else?”
He blinks. “What?”
“Not like that jeez. I mean to talk. Properly. I can’t hear a thing over whatever’s happening behind me.”
We find a half-lit hallway upstairs—sloped ceilings and dozens of family photos on the wall. He stands with arms folded, back against an empty part of the wall. I stand in front of him.
“I know I messed up,” he says eventually. “But it’s like…I thought she’d be pissed for a bit, send a few jabs my way, and then we’d be back to normal. She’s always been there—always ready to tell me off for being a dick. I thought that meant she didn’t need much back. She never said anything.”
“She shouldn’t have to.”
“I’m starting to get that,” he mutters. “But none of my other mates care this much. They don’t expect me to be some emotional support person.”
“Have you ever asked? Maybe they do mind but they know not to expect much from you.”
He tightens his jaw and then sighs. “That makes me sound like a proper dick.”
I let the silence answer.
I study him. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
“I don’t know,” he says, exasperated. “She said she’s done. What am I supposed to do—send her a fruit basket and a six-paragraph apology?”
“Might be a start,” I joke.
He huffs a laugh. Then, quieter: “It’s not just Dana. It’s…like I keep thinking about all these people I let down…makes me feel shitty.”
That one catches me in the chest; it’s rare he’s so unfiltered when he’s sober, rarer he isn’t following this up without the usual joke waiting to follow.
I nod. “It’s not too late to change.”
“Not for Dana,” he says.
“Maybe not for everyone else.”
He looks at me like he wants to ask what that means. I want him to. But he doesn’t.
I might be projecting on the conversation a bit but it feels natural place to rest my opinion. So I keep going, “She’s allowed to be angry. She’s allowed to decide she deserves better friends.”
“I never meant to make her feel like she didn’t,” he mutters.
“I know. But intention doesn’t undo impact.”
He winces, and I don’t mean to sound harsh—but I’ve seen too many boys like him coast through life thinking charm covers everything. Harry’s not cruel. He just hasn’t learned yet that being a good friend takes effort.
Or maybe he hasn’t even learned that commitment means seeing things through.
“You want to fix it?” I ask.
He looks at me then. Serious. Like what I’m going to tell him next was gospel.
“You don’t get to do one grand gesture and have it all go back to normal,” I tell him and as the words unfurl from me I realize it’s what I wish I could tell him-the version of me that wanted a version of him. “Just…be better. Consistently. Even when no one’s watching. Stop focusing on how to get her to forgive you, and start showing up like someone who should be forgiven.”
There’s a long pause. Then: “That’s annoyingly smart of you.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’ve been told.”
He grins, but it’s softer now. The silence settles again, but this time it feels different—like the molecules between us had been shifting between us when we weren’t watching and this conversation had just slotted them into place. Something's shifted.
“I dunno why I’m telling you all this. Sorry.” There goes those apologies again
I settle into the wall beside him as someone walks down the hall.
He glances sideways. There’s still so much unsaid between us; so much history neither of us fully understands. But right now, in the hush of a stranger’s home, he’s vulnerable. And I’m listening.
“You’ve gotten all soft on me now haven’t you?” He suddenly says, trying to inject some humour.
“What?” I’m not sure where he’s going.
“Well look at you! You’re giving sage wisdom to the boy you swore was a dickhead.” He turns to face me, flashing those eyes. My heart skips a beat, and I hope I’m not blushing.
“Oh, piss off,” I mutter, trying to sound sharp, but there’s no bite behind it. “If I said them, I wouldn’t use past tense, would I?”
He raises an eyebrow, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Getting all technical on me just to win the point.”
I shake my head.
Our smiles die down and suddenly it’s like we’re both aware of this new yet familiar quiet that’s settled between these versions of us.
A few people walk past us, there must be another party room up here. Downstairs Frank Ocean plays, too slow for the party’s momentum but with how loud the TV is (I can hear it from here) it probably doesn’t even matter. Still, Frank’s voice pierces a tender part of my heart like it usually does.
I look over at Harry, watching the way his expression shifts as the silence hangs. That easy smirk fades just slightly.
I knock my elbow into him; light, playful. “Good song, this one.”
“Yeah. I’ve got his vinyls.” A small sheepish smile tugs at his lips, like he didn’t expect me to break the tension first. “Even the ‘bad’ one.”
I snort.
Silence again as the song plays to an end. The voice on the record speaks to something sitting in my heart right now. But we're so okay here, we're doing fine.
“Not judging you, by the way,” I say, keeping my voice casual but soft.
“Is that new?” He teases, but there’s something hesitant behind his words.
“Hey, I really try not to judge people when they’re down.”
I hesitate for a second, but the words spill out before I can stop them. “I remember when…” I trail off, not entirely sure how to say it. But the vulnerability he’s shown tonight makes me feel like I can do the same. “One night long ago, when I was at my lowest...and you didn’t judge me one bit.”
He goes still, and for a moment, I wonder if I’ve said too much. But then, he nods, brushing my hand with his knuckle before dropping his hand back to his side. Like he was accepting this could be safe grounds for us in this new space.
"Don’t worry, it’s not pity. Just...I get it." I finish.
His gaze lingers for longer than usual. It’s hard to explain, but in that look, there’s understanding—like he finally sees that I meant it about being around each other. Of being more than our past.
And yet, I feel that familiar feeling. The one that wouldn’t mind getting swept up in this—him. The one that wouldn’t mind waking up in bed next to him, warm and soft. Holding him. Being cared by him.
It’s dangerous, that feeling. Just humming under the surface. It reminds me of all the other quiet moments between us; so against his natural disposition of loud and brash and boyish—maybe that’s why it’s lured me in so deep and never quite given me a full respite.
“Shall we rejoin the fun downstairs?” I ask, clearing my throat, pushing the thought away before it settles too deep. It had to be the hormones.
“Yeah,” he says, pushing off the wall. “It’s getting bloody depressing up here.”
“Harry Styles depressed at house parties? There’s no way.”
He gasps. “Ah sarcasm.”
I start walking toward the stairs. “Don’t act like you haven’t missed it.”
He follows, “I live for it. Someone’s gotta keep me humble.”
I glance over my shoulder. “You’re not nearly as humble as you think you are babe.”
He chuckles, that soft, boyish one I like so much.
By the time we hit the bottom step, neither of us is really laughing anymore. The music from the kitchen is louder now, the noise of people existing in a world that felt miles away in the quiet upstairs.
“Sick lad, s’cuse!” someone barks, barreling up the stairs with a grim-looking kid in tow, clutching their stomach like they’re seconds from redecorating the hallway.
I instinctively step back to dodge them—straight into Harry. His arm goes up without thinking, hand landing at the small of my back to steady me.
“Careful,” he mutters, low and close to my ear.
I freeze for a second, the warmth of his palm seeping through my shirt, keeping me steady.
“Thanks,” I say, glancing up at him, trying to sound offhanded. Like my heart hadn’t just tripped over itself.
“No worries. Woulda caught you either way,” he says, flashing that grin—less cocky this time.
We both hesitate. The hall suddenly feels much narrower.
“Did he make it!?” Someone shouts as they barrel towards the stairs after the other two. The moment cracks.
I step forward, slipping out from under his hand, giving him a quick look over my shoulder. “Come on, then. Let’s go pretend we were getting drunk.”
“How drunk?” He slings his arm around my shoulder and I convince myself to feel friendly feelings only.
We barely make it through the kitchen threshold before we bump into Dana. One glance at the proximity between us and she raises a brow.
“You two look cozy.”
“Oh,” I laugh—too quickly—and instinctively inch away from Harry. I don’t even mean to, it just happens. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. His jaw’s tight. Bollocks.
“Just hashing it out,” I say, trying for breezy.
“Is that what we’re calling it now?” Dana says, her tone light, but laced with something sharper; not just annoyed. She’s hurt.
“Seriously,” I elbow Harry gently, trying to make up for the sudden step away. “He was just feeling a bit shite, so we were talking.”
“Woman gives man free therapy,” Dana replies, coolly. It lands heavier than it should. Like a jab she’s been saving.
Before Harry can respond, Tattoo Arms reappears, drinks in hand—and hands one to Dana. The conversation shifts around me but I’m still thinking about the way Harry tensed when I stepped away. The way Dana’s tone turned brittle. And the fact that, even now, he’s still standing beside me.
Just close enough to notice we’re together here. Not quite close enough to touch.
---
Of course, Dana doesn’t let that go. On our next shift together, she corners me in the break room, arms crossed, looking like she’s about to start a fire.
“You and Harry getting on now?”
“Jeez, what are you now? The Harry police?” I try to keep the sarcasm in check, but it's not easy.
“No.” She snaps back, voice sharp. “I just—he treated you like shite in school. I’m just looking out for you.”
I bristle at that, the old frustrations rising, but I know it's not entirely about Harry anymore. There’s something else under the surface. I force myself to keep my tone calm, even though it’s hard. “We’ve come to a mutual understanding, Dana. I’ve said my piece, and he’s listened.”
Her lips press into a thin line. “So…shagging now?”
The question hits me like a punch, and I nearly shout, “No! Oh my god, no.” I let out a breath, trying to center myself. “I’ve made it clear. We’re just staying friends. Why are you grilling me? You sound like Juni.”
“Well, Juni has good instincts,” she retorts, crossing her arms tighter. “I just don’t want you to become another one of his casualties.”
I freeze. “Too late for that. Anyway Dana, are you seriously still this upset with him? That you’re now policing who his friends are? Like, what’s going on here?”
She doesn’t answer at first, just chews on her bottom lip, like she’s struggling with something inside. After a beat, she sighs and looks away, clearly uncomfortable. I soften my voice.
“Look, maybe you should just talk to him.”
Her eyes flick back to me, sharp, and she leans against the wall with a heavy sigh, frustration seeping out of her in a slow leak.
“I don’t want to talk,” she mutters. “I’m just being a bitch. It’s easy when I have a target.”
I wait for more, but there’s only silence between us.
“I just…” Dana swallows, and I see her struggle with the words. “I am serious about not wanting to see you get hurt, though. I know what he’s like. Maybe I’m more mad that you decided to become friends with him when I’ve told him to get lost.”
I soften, my voice quieter now. “I get it, Dana. I’m not an idiot I know what he’s like too. First hand. But he’s trying, you know? To be friends with me. I haven’t got the energy to be mad at him and hold onto high school shite. He’s still the same guy but he’s trying. I can see it. If he pulls any of his usual rubbish he knows I’ll be gone faster than he can say sorry.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s changed,” she mutters under her breath. Then, after a moment’s pause, her shoulders drop a fraction, and she looks me in the eye. “You’re really sure about this, though?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
She nods slowly, her expression unreadable for a moment before a small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at her lips. “I never would have imagined this dynamic ever. Life’s a mad joke.”
Was it ever.
---
The doorbell rings unexpectedly, pulling me out of the quiet hum of the afternoon. I wasn’t expecting anyone—my parents are still at work, and I haven’t made plans. I pull open the door, and there he is, standing on the threshold, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets like he’s trying to look casual but he’s too wound up so he’s failing.
“Harry?” I blink in surprise. “Wha-what are you doing here?”
He shrugs, his usual smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Got bored, figured I’d see what you’re up to. You free?”
I glance behind him, expecting to see someone else or a reason for him to be here, but there’s nothing. He’s just…here. And it’s oddly familiar. “Uh, yeah, sure. Why not?”
He steps in without waiting for an invitation. An old comfort settles between us, but there’s also nerves—or that’s just me.
“Cool,” he says, kicking off his shoes and making himself at home. “Wait. You wanna grab coffee actually? I’m in the mood for a walk.”
“Yeah alright. I’m down.” I grab my bag from the kitchen, my heart still trying to catch up with the fact that he’s here, unannounced. Best to get out of this house.
We walk out of out neighbourhood. I point out the street my Nan lived on and the spot where I crashed my bike in Year 4 and had to get stitches. He tells me about the time he fell off a playground slide and lost his tooth.
Soon we settle into a comfortable silence as we walk down the high street, the familiar energy of the place wrapping around us. People are out, in and out of shops, and the scent of coffee hangs in the air as we near our spot.
“Plain coffee?” He asks me. “Or matcha?”
“Matcha,” I say and we go up to order. The barista asks Harry what kind of coffee he wants. I tell him how I love light roast and he tells me I needed help. The barista hides her smile when he gets really into it.
We take our drinks outside to sit on one of the benches along the street. The place is bustling, but it’s still calmer than usual.
“So,” Harry starts, his voice casual, but there’s something about the way he looks at me that makes it feel like he’s not just making small talk. “What’s been going on with you? You’ve dropped off earth this week again. I thought maybe you had enough of me and left town.”
I sip my drink, and study the casual humour masking his worry underneath—that I’d decided I had enough of him.
I try to come up with something that feels right. Truth was, I’d become a shut in after the last party. I hated how it felt like I was between Dana and Harry. But I also hated how much of my thoughts Harry took up after these parties—we were just supposed to be friends and yet my mind kept snagging on the accidental brushes and the way his eyes seemed to communicate with mine in the silence. So yeah he may have a point and I might have been sort of avoiding him.
“Just keeping busy.” I lie a little. “Been home with my parents a lot which drives me a little crazy.”
“Yeah it was a bit of an adjustment being home again.” He agrees.
“It feels like slotting back into a you-shaped place but it’s suddenly suffocating, whereas before it fit better.”
He leans back, squinting into the sun. “Bollocks you’re good with words. That’s exactly how it feels.”
I shrug the compliment off and hope it doesn’t replay in my head later. “Yeah, I guess. It was nice having some space this last year, y’know? After everything with my grandparents.”
His brow furrows slightly. “You mean, your grandpa?”
“Yeah.” I nod, taking a deep breath. “My grandma moved away to be with her sister since my grandpa...”
“Yeah,” he nods and I’m grateful I don’t have to say the words. Even though I’ve come to terms with it now saying it always felt so weird. And of course Harry always knows how to smooth out these sort of wrinkles.
“So it’s been…different. I didn’t realize how much I took for granted, you know? Like having family around, and the way they kind of keep things in place.”
Harry listens quietly, nodding as he sips his coffee. “Losing family, and then even more with your grandma move away is hard.”
“Yeah, it’s been strange. I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d rely on…I dunno now it just feels like everything’s changed. Even at home. It’s different, but I don’t know… I guess I’m getting used to it?”
I was getting used to it but sometimes, like today sitting on this bench in the bright sun like I used to with Grandpa sometimes just to get him on a walk. It’s an ache that flows through me and my sensitivity varies daily.
Harry’s gaze softens, and he leans forward a little. “I get that. You don’t realize how much of your life is tied up in small things—family routines and stuff. Until it’s not there.”
I nod, looking out at the street, watching people pass by. I can’t look at him and have such a vulnerable conversation just yet. “Yeah. I feel like I should’ve had more time with him? But at the same time I’m grateful for every moment we had together. It just felt difficult to see that back then. And I think I needed this time away—last year. To figure out who I am outside of all it.”
Harry knocks his knee gently into mine. It echoes into my chest. “Uni’s been that way for me too. It was weird being away from this small world we knew but it’s been good for me! Not just as a break, but more like…a reset. You figure out what’s…like, what belongs to you and not everyone else?”
“Oh my god yeah. I’ve thought about that a lot,” I admit, his words mirroring my thoughts. “About what I left behind versus what I gained by leaving? I also got left behind in a way so there’s that too. But then it’s like, what do I want to take with me?”
He nods, like he understands. “Yeah. You start figuring out what matters to you only. What you want, who you are when no one’s watching.”
I smile softly, feeling a sense of calm that I didn’t expect to find with him. Maybe it’s hearing the inside of his mind so clearly and realizing we’re both figuring out our own things. It’s nice talking with this quiet understanding.
“Exactly. Like, I’m not just the person I was back home. I’m still me, but different.”
“In a good way.”
“In a good way,” I affirm.
“I guess that’s why we don’t fit as well when we’ve come back.” He smiles but it’s a rueful thing.
We both sit in silence for a while, just letting the words hang in the air, feeling the truth in them. I hadn’t expected this conversation, but I’m glad it happened. There’s something reassuring about sharing this space with someone else who gets it—who’s also learning how to be themselves and vulnerable enough to share.
***
I’d been trying to do work drinks once a week ever since the first offer just to keep up a social life. It was Lena’s birthday yesterday but she works today so we make a bigger deal of drinks. Juni’s finally back in town this week—after doing a mini catchup before work the other day we’d been trying to find more time to hang out. I invite her to drinks and turns out people had invited a lot of random friends too.
We get to be too many people for the pub so we take the herd to get drinks and pile up to a local outdoor spot through a grove that saw a lot of parties with the number of chairs and bottle littered about. We settle under the evening sky and I introduce Juni to a few new friends.
While Juni and Dana get to know each other I tell them I’d grab drinks for us.
I send a mental blessing to whoever brought the chilled beer and cupcakes—I manage to source just one. I tuck the bottle against me, the chilled temperatures a shock against my chest but it feels good as it settles. The central AC had been broken in part of the building for half my shift and I’d been disgustingly sweaty for all of it. I’d had to change my shirt for a spare tank once I got to my car.
I do a double take at the familiar smiling face as I walk back to my friends. It takes a second to register Harry had made his way to this get-together and he was flirting with Lenae who I’m pretty sure was a couple years younger.
Not that it mattered to him I guess.
In the cloak of the growing darkness I watch him, his hand trailing down her arm. She laughs at whatever he says. His hands on his waist as he nods and continues his story.
Meanwhile, despite the chilled bottles, my heart feels like it melts down into a puddle by my feet.
This was how it was supposed to be, I tell myself. Harry and I just friends; him doing his thing with other girls—quite frankly I’m surprised I didn’t see more of this this summer. But I guess we’d hung out at most parties I showed up for. He was probably with 2 girls for every party I wasn’t at.
This shouldn’t bother me. He wasn’t mine. Never was.
I go back to my friends.
“Ooh!” Juni reaches for the cupcake first which would normally have made me laugh more. “We were wondering what was taking you so long!”
“How come I don’t get one?” Dana asks.
“Well Juni took mine so I don’t even get one.” I shrug.
“Oh sorry!” She says but she bites into it anyway getting frosting on her nose. We laugh, this time it comes out naturally. Maybe I’d be okay—maybe it was just the shock of seeing him with someone.
“What’s the laugh about?” somehow Harry has spotted and walked up to us in the few minutes it’s taken to pull myself together.
And he comes with gifts.
“This is totally a bribe.” Dana turns her nose up to the box of cupcakes with 3 left inside.
“Oh Juni’s already got one.” Harry says.
“Oh remember my name now do you?” Juni says with all bark no bite. I’d filled her in a little about the truce Harry and I had but hadn’t had enough time with her to tell her the details.
“I’ll never forget it,” Harry smiles his charming one at her. She rolls her eyes and continues enjoying her cupcake.
“Thank you,” I take a red velvet and wait for Dana but she refuses to take one.
“Dana c’mon,” I nudge her. Juni looks between us—this was one of the details she didn’t know about. “It’s not like there’s strings attached.”
“What’s going on here?” Juni asks—straightforward like she always is. “Did you two hook up or something?”
“No!” Dana glares and Harry throws his head back laughing. I can’t help but giggle which earns me a glare from Dana.
“Not in a while,” Harry says knowing full well how Dana will react.
“We’ve never hooked up!”
“There was that time when we were 15,” Harry goes on one knee and holds the cupcake box out to her. “It’s been unrequited since. Dana. Accept this cup-“
“I’ll tip you over.” Dana threatens.
“Oh my god,” Juni leans over and plucks a vanilla out. She boops it onto Dana’s lips making her short-circuit and Harry fall to his ass laughing.
“What the fuck!” Dana says.
“What!” Juni holds it out to her. “Now you have to eat it. C’mon I saw you eyeing it. I can feed it to you if you don’t want to touch it.”
Dana blushes and I try my absolute hardest to hold my laugh in. I missed Juni so much.
In the end, Dana takes the cupcake and enjoys it with her beer. Juni asks her if she wants to chat about it and I tell Juni I’d catch up later. I’d heard the drama rehashed a dozen times this summer—Dana could fill her in alone.
But then that left me with Harry alone.
“That was seriously the funniest thing that’s happened all summer.”
“Yeah you’re having a right laugh at Dana.” I cover my mouth before I start laughing but I can’t help picturing her face after Juni touches the frosting to her lips. Harry can tell because as soon as we make eye contact we’re falling into each other laughing hysterically and trying to muffle it so it doesn’t travel.
“This is why,” I wipe my tears. “I love Juni. She’s just so no-nonsense.”
“I’m not laughing at Dana by the way,” Harry says. “She’s just been so serious with me all summer this reminded me of something from back in the day. I needed this.”
“God,” I press my palms into my eyes. “I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.”
“I’m glad you stayed,” he says in a tone that doesn’t quite match the moment we just had. I look up at him. “With me here.”
“Oh.” I don’t know what to say to it. I just didn’t want to listen to Dana complain again? I got stuck with you?
“I have a proposition.” He senses the awkwardness and pivots.
“What?” I try to keep up.
“You’re holding my favourite flavour. I’ve got this vanilla one. I propose we split each in half.”
“But what do I get?” I hold mine closer to me. “I don’t want vanilla.”
“You get to make me happy.”
“What!?” I shout. “What does that get me though! That’s a shite deal.”
“It’s a good deal,” he comes in closer. “You know you want to. You make me happy and I make you happy in return.”
“Haven’t you heard? My best friend’s back in town I don’t need anybody to make me happy.” I say but my voice grows strained as he leans in closer. An image of him doing the same thing to Lena pops into my head but I keep my expression glued to my face.
I’m so focused on not letting my face betray my emotions that I don’t catch him in time. He jerks forward and takes a bite of the cupcake I’m holding.
“Harry!” I push him away but it’s too late, my cupcake is 1/3 of what it was. “What the hell! That was more than half!”
“You didn’t agree to half! I had to take more!” He laughs with his mouth full.
“Gross,” I pretend to be more annoyed than I am simply because my heart is racing way too fast. “I don’t even want this anymore.”
“You know there’s more of those down there?” Lena says from behind Harry. He turns around and I see her pointing to a chair some feet away.
“Oh,” Harry steps back so she can join us. “I know I just wanted to eat that one.”
Lena assesses the two of us, I’m guessing for history. I drop the eaten cupcake into the box Harry still holds and look as disgusted as possible. I didn’t want us to come off as anything other than friends, I don’t know why it matters so much right now.
“You can have it all.” I say. “I’ll get a new one thanks Lena.”
“Yeah,” she smiles now. I must have done a good job at acting. “It’s my treat. Now d’you mind if I steal him?”
“Yeah go ahead!” I nod and avoid looking at Harry which I realize only makes it weird so I do look at him and he’s rigid like he’s got a shovel up his shirt.
“Sorry,” she turns to him. “I hadn’t seen those girls in a while so I had to say hello.”
“Oh that’s uh, that’s alright.” He snaps out of it.
She tilts her head to the side, to where she wants him to follow. He nods and holds up a finger and walks towards me. She eyes us again but must not find what she’s looking for so she steps away.
“You sure-“
“Yeah,” I cut him off. Be normal. “You go do your thing. I’ll find the girls.”
“You don’t mind-“
“Harry,” I take a step back to make more space, wrapping my arms around my waist. “A cute girl’s asking you to the side on her birthday. The Harry I know wouldn’t be hesitating.”
“The Harry you know...” He says, more to himself. I want him to be real again, to tell me it’s different. He doesn’t.
I continue blabbing, “I saw you two flirting earlier don’t kid just go!” I flick my hand and then a little louder I announce, “I’m gonna get another cupcake.”
I throw Lena one last smile and head for the cupcakes, but it’s hard to even swallow as I wander around to find Juni.
I didn’t want him to leave, on a really deep level I wanted him to stay. I wanted him to eat the rest of the cupcake out of my hands and then kiss me so all I tasted was icing sugar. I wanted to invite him to my car and just sit with him in the warmth, maybe curl into him, and have him tell me what I meant to him if anything at all. I want to ask him why he looked sad going. If anything had really changed or if we were just fooling ourselves.
My head swirls, and my heart spins out as I finally find Juni and Dana. I don’t know what my face looks like but they look worried as soon as they turn to me and rightly so. I turn and throw up on the side of the tree, chunks of red velvet burning the back of my throat as it comes up.
That cupcake was too good to be true.
***
My parents are finally out of town for the next couple weeks and I savour the bliss of having the house to myself. Juni stays over a few nights and we have a major debrief. We loop Rhia in on a facetime call and we finally hear all the details about Juni’s romantic summer.
I spot Harry a couple times at the mall that week. The first time we wave from where we are but neither of us go up to the other. I recognize only a couple friends he’s with.
The other time I’m browsing the WHSmith—mum had given me a giftcard for some reason before she left so I was looking for books I’d need next semester.
“One sec,” I hear his words before I see him. I turn from the shelf as he approaches me, recognizing his mum a few rows down. She watches us and when she catches my eye I smile awkwardly.
“Sorry my mum,” he turns to look at her when he sees me smiling at someone behind his shoulder.
“Right that’s why you’re here otherwise you wouldn’t be caught dead in a store with books.” I say.
“For your info,” he settles in. “I do like reading. I’ve ready Harry Potter. And I’ve read Twilight.”
“Twilight?!” I raise my brows. “Wow.”
“I couldn’t help it. Everyone talked about it at school growing up.”
“So are you here for Colleen Hoover or something?” I ask.
“Who?”
I shake my head, smiling at my own joke. “Nothing. Nevermind.”
“You finally moving on from the magical thinking thing?” He asks.
“What?”
“The-that book? You were reading at the cafe…”
“Oh!” I’m surprised he remembered. But then again, when he wanted to pay attention to you he was very good at it. “Eh I haven’t finished it. Yet.”
“Well,” he shrugs. “I just came by to say hi. But then you started insulting me.”
“Sad, sad boy.”
“Hanging around you too much,” he tilts his chin to me.
My jaw drops and he laughs, apologizing.
“Uncalled for.”
“You started it.”
I put my hand on my hips and narrow my eyes at him, the eye contact makes him squirm and he looks away with a nervous laugh.
I turn back to the shelf and slot the book I was holding back in its place.
“You’re not on break.” He just notices I’m in a regular tee.
“I’m not working today.” I tell him. “But can you imagine? I was so bored I’m at the mall after spending most of my week here?”
“Jeez you should’ve called me I could have entertained you.”
Maybe it’s because of the leftover tension between us or just because it’s us but the comment lands awkwardly.
I snort and he hangs his head, pink creeping into his cheeks.
“Don’t let your imagination run too wild,” he says because of course he does. He couldn’t help his cheekiness. “I just meant company.”
“Shut up Styles.” I bite back a nervous laugh and turn back to the shelf.
“Hey,” his hand’s heavy on my back and my smile dies quickly after that. I turn and he drops it. “M’sorry about the other week.”
“What d’you mean?” I know exactly what he means but I’m surprised he’s not passing this off as a continual joke like he would. I don’t know what it means that he’s apologizing for it.
We were just friends! Friends didn’t apologize for this sort of things.
“Leaving you-“
“I told you to-“
“For her.”
I had hoped barrelling through apology would shut this down but his words can’t be taken back. I bite my lip. Things just grow more awkward again. Great, it feels like square one again.
“Harry I already said we’re just friends.”
“I know,” he runs a hand through his hair. “I bloody know you said that. I don’t really know why I’m apologizing.”
“Yeah well me neither,” my tone takes a sharper edge as my irritation creeps in. Why did he always get to make me feel insecure and then act like it’s his bright idea to plaster it over.
“Don’t go and bite my head off now,” he crosses his arms.
“I dunno what you want me to say Har!” I cross mine. “I know who you are…you don’t have to stay all innocent and pure around me.”
“I’m not.” He prickles. “It’s not like I’ve been by myself this summer or some shite. But I did leave you alone to go hook up with someone and it just made me feel ba-“
“Oh god,” my heart pumps faster, sensing the road we’re on which definitely passes through our past. The one where we’ve hurt each other. “I had my friends. You don’t have to feel bad for me or whatever. Just because you’re hooking up with people at the same party as me and I’m not? Like?”
“No no!” He waves his hands. “No not like that.”
“Then like what?” I snap.
He sighs, big and noisy. “I dunno. I don’t think I know what I’m saying. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Too late for that, my brain instantly responds and I’m surprised at the intensity it feels with. The smart thing would be to work those feelings out but there was no point when we were getting along mostly.
Or were we only getting along because I wasn’t tying him down, which wasn’t making him run away, and I was kidding myself into thinking it was enough.
I didn’t like my brain in this space.
I sigh, try to let the pressure out. “We’re friends Harry stop making things complicated.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all what!?” I ask, heart racing.
“You say that but then-“
I wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. “Yeah?”
“The way you look at me sometimes it makes me feel like I’m crazy I-“
I lean forward and grasp his arm. He stops talking immediately and it takes this moment to realize how little we’d touched this summer. But how much that actually meant because touching him now, so innocently like this, sent shockwaves through my nervous system.
It all feels like a bloody farce; everything we tried so hard to pretend to be.
Here we were clearly asking ourselves all summer whether the other person still felt something, something strong enough to cross lines—he’d just confirmed it himself.
“Are you trying to hold my hand?” He asks when the tension gets too much. “You’re like, half a meter off.”
I release him. I hated when he changed the tone into a joke. I know it was some sort of defence but I needed him serious to understand me. “I just need you to stop. We don’t need to go down this road. You don’t want to go down this road.”
Slowly his features sharpen back to the familiar ones I know.
“You’re right.” He says and I squash the rejection I feel at him knowing be didn’t want to go down this road. “Ok topic change. Akil’s having a pool party on Saturday you gonna be there?”
“Who’s that again?” I ask, going along with the change in topic. I ignore the part of me that feels rejected, him believing me when I said he didn’t want to go down this road.
“Uh,” he flushes slightly and I stare. “His uncle coaches the football team. My old coach—he’s actually hosting a scrimmage at our old school for old time’s sake and inviting the teams at Akil’s for barbecue afterwards. He said to invite all our friends. Actually, you’ve been to his place before.”
Oh god, of course. It’s my turn to flush. “Oh yeah maybe—is it a big thing?”
“Old football team, current team, a bunch of girls. Bring Juni. I dunno if Dana’s coming.”
“Yeah alright.” I busy myself with my books, memories of that house looping through my brain. After the conversation we just had it heightens all the feelings I have been pushing down all summer. All of the wants and needs I’ve had week after week.
I thought us getting along was like a broom to all the debris of feelings from when we did hook up—the rejection and sadness and hurt. But I was beginning to think they were glued in with Gorilla glue but I ignore it. I ignore it all.
“Maybe you’ll find someone to hook up there and I can stop ‘feeling bad’ for you.” He mocks. “I’ll text you the address.”
He’s gone before I can scold him. Damn him for making me feel stupid, being all serious when everything kept turning into a joke for him.
I felt like I’d dug myself a hole I couldn’t dig out of anymore. The question was, do I admit defeat or try to scramble my way out?
xxxxxxxx
Part 3.5
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