“Char, for the last time, he’s not coming.” I crossed my arms, and tried to stare at my best friend as harshly as I possibly could.
“Yeah, I get it. Harry’s not going to your party. Therefore, Zayn definitely won’t be there.”
I smiled, thinking she had finally accepted the fact that she would never ever be hooking up with Zayn Malik. That ship had sailed. I felt a frown begin to pull at the corners of my mouth, but I refused to let it show. I was not going to make a big deal out of my fight with Harry. At least, not in front of other people. Tori and Char had already done the whole, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”, “Let’s have a Veronica Mars marathon.,” good friend bullshit. But I wouldn’t allow it. The thing with Harry was stupid. We had a stupid fight, but to be honest, I wasn’t all that interested in fixing things with him. Actually, I should clarify. I desperately wanted to fix things. I wanted him to send me cheeky texts, and say inappropriate things, and give me advice, and make me laugh again. I didn’t want to lose him. But, and this was the dealbreaker, our friendship always had an expiration date. In a matter of weeks, he would be back in England, or playing at Madison Square Garden, or accepting a Grammy. It was bound to end. So why try to hold onto it? I’d rather just get all the hurt over with.
So, I was done. I was well and truly done with Harry Styles.
I tuned back in to my friends’ conversation only to regret it. Char was still talking.
“But,” she paused, putting her hand out toward me as if I was about to interrupt her, “and I know this is a big but, if Zayn does come, you know just by chance or whatever,” she added quickly, “should I wear my mint green dress or my blue one? You know which ones I’m talking about, right?”
I couldn’t do this. I got up from the lunch table, not bothering to answer Char’s question or even say anything as I walked out of the cafeteria.
I vaguely heard the sound of Tori hissing, “Seriously, Char?” and getting up to follow me.
“We have One Direction now joining us on the show!” Ryan Seacrest grinned over at us, despite the fact that no one could see him over the radio. Although it could have been for the benefit of the webcam that I was pretty sure was pointed straight at me from the corner of the room. I took another look at Ryan’s shit-eating grin. Definitely for the camera.
“So, tell me guys, you’ve been in Los Angeles for about a month and a half now, what do you think of it?” he practically yelled into the microphone. Really unnecessary when everyone in the room is listening through headphones. My ears thank you, Seacrest. Except that they don’t because I’m going fucking deaf right now.
Ryan looked over at me, hoping for an answer. I couldn’t tell if this man was genuinely happy to see me, or if he was just really good at his job. Either way, the smile felt a little like a slap in the face, an unknowing dig at my own sorry state of mind for the past few days. Luckily, Louis stepped in, answering the question with a grin that rivaled the radio host’s. The difference was, I knew Louis’ was fake.
For some reason, Lou had always had this weirdly intense dislike for the host. One time, American Idol had come on while we were in our hotel room in Connecticut, and Lou had spent a good twenty minutes half-ranting, half-mocking Ryan. I had just laughed along. It was oddly entertaining to see Lou lose it like that, which he did occasionally. It had ended with him grumbling something like, “No one is that happy all the time. It’s preposterous.” I smiled to myself at the memory.
I guess I got a little lost in my own head because a moment later, I jumped at the sound of my own name.
I looked up to see Ryan Seacrest and the guys staring at me expectantly. I had no idea what was going on. I assumed I had been asked a question, but clearly I wasn’t listening.
Lou and Zayn began to laugh, probably hoping to somehow salvage the situation. It’s not exactly good manners to zone out during an interview, especially when that interview is on a national radio show with the most famous host in the United States. I smiled weakly.
Zayn clapped a hand onto my shoulder as he began to speak. “Harry has been a bit out of it the past few days. During dinner the other day, he just checked out for like a good five minutes. He stopped eating, fork like hanging in the air, staring into space.”
Niall started giggling at the other end of the room. “It’s true he has been spacey lately.”
I frowned. I hadn’t thought it was that noticeable. But I kept getting distracted by random things. I knew I was a bit quieter than usual, but I had never been the most talkative. Lou and Niall definitely beat me there, and even Zayn and Liam sometimes got a bit chatty.
The truth was, I knew exactly why I had been out of it lately. I hadn’t been sleeping.
And I knew why, too.
“I’ve—,” my voice came out raspier than I had expected, and I realized that this was the first thing I’d said that day. I cleared my throat and continued, “I’ve just been tired. Haven’t been sleeping well.” Or at all, I silently added.
“Something been keeping you up?” Ryan asked, smiling a bit suggestively.
I fought the urge to grimace at the vulgarity of the statement, not to mention the fact that its implication couldn’t have been further from the depressing truth.
“Just haven’t been able to sleep.” Silence. That was bad in radio. I was meant to say more, and Ryan was making this noticeably awkward. I was beginning to see Lou’s point.
“Alright!” he shouted sarcastically. “If you don’t want to tell us…”
Right, I officially hated this hilariously short, perpetually smiling man. He was giving me no choice. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately. I had a fight with a good friend of mine, and it’s been bothering me.” I looked down at my hands, twisting my fingers together and praying that this would be the end of it.
“A good friend?”
I knew he was just doing his job, but at the moment, I was ready to physically fight him.
“Yeah, a very good friend of mine.”
“Does this friend have a name?”
“She’s a good friend. Let’s just leave it at that.” I realized my mistake immediately. And I knew I wouldn’t be the only one.
“So this friend is a she?” And there it was.
“Yes.” I nodded, trying to communicate the fact that this conversation was over.
“Interesting! And it sounds like the girls outside are interested, too!” Ryan gestured to the window, below which there was a large crowd of girls camped out. Their screams were noticeably louder now than they were before. “There is a huge crowd of One Direction fans outside the studio. Most of them have been here since yesterday, just to get a glimpse of you guys. I imagine that must feel pretty good! I mean, no girls ever camp out there just to see me! What do you guys think of this dedication?”
I let out a deep breath as I realized he had finally moved on. To be honest, he had let me off relatively easily. It could’ve been worse.
But my other problems weren’t so easy to solve.
So this was my big night, I thought as I looked around the sea of people somehow stuffed into my living room.
Well, it was big at least. My house was packed with kids from my school, most of whom I had never spoken to before. But that didn’t really matter. Apparently, I was somebody. And everybody wanted to go to somebody’s party.
I was trying not to dwell on the fact that the only reason most people bothered to show up was because of the one person who definitely wouldn’t be showing up.
But I was trying not to think about that.
I sipped slowly from my beer, taking it easy with the alcohol so I hopefully wouldn’t embarrass myself a second time. Char and Tori were beside me, swaying to the beat of the song blaring from the speakers.
“Boo, now’s your chance,” Tori said, leaning over to talk to me. She nodded her head toward the corner of the room.
I looked to where she was indicating and saw the guy I had wanted for so long making his way through the people. Toward me. He was walking toward me. Usually, I would assume he was just walking in my general direction, probably on his way to someone else, but not this time. He was smiling at me. Smiling in the way that I had always wanted him to smile at me.
But for some reason, my mouth refused to return the smile. I could feel an uneasiness in my stomach. Something was off. I couldn’t talk to Alex right now. I couldn’t even look at Alex right now. But the worst part was, I didn’t even know why. I had a vague sense that I felt guilty, but that made no sense. I turned to Char and Tori, mouthing, “Cover for me. I’ll be back”
I turned quickly, heading in the direction of the bathroom. I didn’t want to have to explain to Tori or Char why I was doing this, mostly because I didn’t even know myself. I just needed a quiet moment. I needed to collect myself. I could figure this out, and get back there and get what I’d always wanted. I just needed a second.
What I didn’t need was to walk by the door and see five, newly arrived and totally unwelcome guests.
hots4harrry asked: Quotev is a site where you write stories. Someone must have copied yours.
Oh that’s annoying, but it seems like it’s gone now so I guess it doesn’t really matter. Thanks for telling me though!
hots4harrry asked: When will you update? I was keeping up with this story on Quotev but then my account got deleted. I was so excited when I found it on here. I cant wait for more <3
I’m updating either later today or early tomorrow! I have the chapter written i just have to get to my computer to post it! I’m so happy you found my story! But what is quotev?? I only post on here and on 1dff.
Anonymous asked: Are you going to write more on I can hear music? I love it!!!
Yes I am! I’m in the process of writing the next chapter right now! I love writing it and I’m not going to stop until its done!!
Pick a trope from this list and provide a fandom/pairing and I’ll tell you something about the story I’d write for that combination (i.e. write a snippet from the story or write not!fic or tell you the title and summary for the story I would write)
- pretending to be married/fake dating
- high school/college AU
- handcuffed together
- next-door neighbors AU
- secretly a virgin
- be careful what you wish for
- accidental baby acquisition
- truth or dare
- sharing a bed
- road trip
- groundhog’s day/time travel
- curtain fic/domestic fic
(Might have to fill some of these this evening after I come home from work, but this sounds like fuuuuun.)
do this pls
blazerbraces asked: ahh. I hate the end just because I'm pulling for Harry, but this story is so good! I know I say it every time, but I honestly just can't get enough:):) You're amazing!
I know it kills me too! but it’s so fun to write the dramatic stuff. although i love writing the fluff too. idk i guess i just like writing about harry :) and thank you soooooo much!!!!
“Why does it always seem like you’re alone?” That didn’t come out the way I meant it to, but I heard Violet’s surprised laugh fill the tiny speaker a second later. Thank God she had a sense of humor.
“Probably because I usually am. This may come as a shock to you, but I’m not exactly miss popularity.”
“You’re absolutely right. I’m shocked. Simply shocked,” I said sarcastically.
“You’re so rude to me. I don’t know why I put up with you.”
I laughed, knowing she wasn’t hurt in the slightest. I could hear the smile in her voice.
“Well, it’s clearly because I’m the only thing standing between you and complete isolation. You’d probably’ve turned into some crazy cat woman at this point if it weren’t for me.”
“Cat lady,” Violet added quickly. So quickly that I almost couldn’t make out the words.
“What?” I had the urge to hold the phone away from my face for a moment, just so I could give it the look that I really wanted to give Violet. A “what the fuck are you talking about” look. In a nice way, of course. I fought the instinct, instead taking a look out of the deeply tinted windows that gave me a much-appreciated sense of anonymity. I watched the scenery roll by as I waited for her explanation.
“Crazy cat lady. Not cat woman. Cat woman is a character from Batman. If you said that I would turn out like cat woman that would actually be a compliment. Because then I’d be a badass cat burglar in a sexy costume. So, yeah, get it right.”
I paused, taking in her words for a second, wondering how I should react. Currently, I had a few different options. First, she was actually crazy. Who corrects something like that? I was insulting her and that’s what she cares about. Which brought me to my second reaction. It was weirdly attractive that she literally seemed not to care at all what I or anyone else thought about her. It was like she lived in her own little world. And finally, the one reaction I definitely couldn’t share was wishing that I was by her side so I could have cut her weird little speech short with a kiss. Or a hundred.
I went with the safest option since I was an idiot. “No wonder I’m your only friend. I’m not even sure anyone would trust you with a cat in the first place.”
“Ok, I’m ending this conversation.”
I laughed and whined, “No, Vi! Don’t be like that.” I hoped that I didn’t sound as pathetic as I was pretty sure it did. Please let her think I was joking, I prayed silently.
“Calm down, you butthead. I’ll see you in like five minutes.”
I felt a little pull of anticipation as I thought about seeing her again. Even though we weren’t doing anything even slightly exciting, I couldn’t help but be happy just to see her again. It had been a few days since our little sleepover. And yes, I was referring to it as a sleepover. It was the most suggestive way I could say it without crossing any lines. I needed it to be at least a little suggestive for my own ego. How was it that I spent the night with the girl I so desperately want, but we did nothing? In fact, we did less than nothing. We fell asleep watching a movie. To say I was frustrated was an understatement.
“Did you just actually call me a butthead? Are we in the second grade? Do people even—”
She cut me off, yelling, “I’m hanging up on you now!” And then she did, but I smiled, imagining the embarrassed blush I knew would already be spread across her cheeks.
Thirty minutes later, I was witnessing that blush in person.
As soon as I walked in the door, Violet led me to her room. Me being me, I immediately flung myself onto her bed, landing with my head half on the pillows and half on her bedside table.
“Owww,” I groaned, reaching back to touch the already swelling section of my head.
“Oh my gosh, are you ok?” Violet, said putting her hand to her mouth. She was trying her best to look upset for me, but I could see that she was actually trying to cover up a laugh.
I smirked. “Thanks for your concern, darling,” I said drily, still rubbing the back of my head. “I could have a concussion for all you know.”
She stopped laughing, and laid down carefully beside me. She seemed hesitant to allow any piece of her body touch mine. “Fine, I’m sorry,” she sighed. “How’s your head?”
“It’s not so bad,” I said, ignoring the little bubble of personal space she seemed so intent on preserving and scooting closer to her. Her body was rigid at first, but she slowly began to relax into my side.
I felt Violet shuffle a bit beside me as she turned to face me, but because of our relative heights, we weren’t so much looking eye to eye as she was looking eye to my arm. It was sort of awkward, but neither of us seemed to care much. “Do you need ice or anything?” she mumbled into my shoulder.
“No, I’m good, babe,” I said quietly, scooting down so I could actually look her in the eye.
I just stared at her for a moment, while she was distracted by something across the room. I couldn’t tell if she was actually distracted or just pretending to be distracted. I wasn’t sure it mattered. “Violet…”
She turned to face me once again, and I realized that I didn’t really know how I was going to finish that sentence. But I wasn’t sure that mattered either.
I held her gaze as long as she let me, searching in her brown eyes for something. I didn’t know what exactly, but I’d know it when I saw it. She didn’t give me a chance, though, turning away quickly as she tried to hide the blush creeping over her features.
“So, party planning!” I said, sitting up so quickly that my head felt light and my vision got narrow. I took a breath, realizing that I needed to figure out what this was. It didn’t really seem like a friendship anymore. It seemed like something more. Something I wasn’t even sure I wanted. I wanted to slap myself as I realized what I was thinking. I was contemplating a relationship with Harry. I was contemplating wanting that. A few weeks ago that thought wouldn’t even have crossed my mind. Well, it may have crossed my mind, but I’d never thought of it as a possibility. It wasn’t what I had wanted. A little over a month ago, I didn’t even know Harry. In less than a month, he’d be gone. Probably in London. But, he was a fucking popstar so who knew? He could be going to fucking Outer Mongolia for all I knew. It struck me that I really had no idea what Harry’s life was usually like. I got the impression that he was used to being busier than he was now. That he was used to staying in hotels, falling asleep in one city and waking up in another, talking to complete strangers about personal things. These were all things that Harry was probably used to, was more than probably good at, like he seemed to be good at everything else. And these were things I knew nothing about, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to learn. But then Harry sat up beside me, lightly rubbing the back of his head again and smiling like a lunatic, and I smiled back. I might’ve been confused as hell, but I wasn’t sure it mattered anymore.
“I love parties!”
“Of course you do,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Can’t help it if I have a lot of friends. People like me, Vi. I know that’s a difficult concept for you to grasp,” he said haughtily.
“You’re right. It’s pretty difficult to imagine people liking you enough to willingly spend time with you.”
“What’s your excuse, then?”
I smirked, pretending to have an answer. What was my excuse? Why did this boy have such a hold over me?
I pulled over my laptop that was somehow still laying unharmed at the edge of my bed, a mini-miracle, and opened up a new Word document. “Let’s make a list of stuff we have to do.”
“Lists are shit.”
I opened my eyes wide and stared at him. “What are you even saying?” Who hated lists? Was that even a thing?
He shrugged, unconcerned by the fact that I was clearly judging him. “Lists are boring. If you want to do something, just do it. Don’t waste time planning it out.”
“What about grocery lists?” This was just simple logic. Lists were necessary sometimes.
“I have an excellent memory,” he said, tapping the side of his head as if to illustrate his point.
“Whatever, we’re making a list. So I asked my parents.” Harry rolled his eyes, but I ignored him and continued. “They said I could have it on Saturday, and that they trusted me so they’re spending the night up in Santa Barbara and my brothers are chaperoning. It has to end at a decent hour and no alcohol.” Harry rolled his eyes again, but this time I just smiled, knowing I didn’t have to follow all the rules. I turned back to my computer, beginning to type out my list. “First, we need to make an invitation and decide who to invite.” I typed quickly, outlining my plan of attack. “What next?” I paused, letting my hands lightly tap the keyboard as I thought.
I looked over at Harry, who was looking down at my duvet, picking at a stray thread. He looked bored out of his mind. I mean, he still looked intense, but when didn’t he? It was just his intense stare was focused on a piece of fabric so he didn’t exactly seem super into the task at hand. I sighed quietly, and picked up my computer, shoving it in front of Harry. “Let’s make a Facebook invite.”
He looked up at me and smiled that stupid adorable Harry smile. I didn’t have to say, “You win,” because he already knew he had.
He pulled up the website, slowly. For as long as his fingers were, he was a ridiculously slow typer. He typed just as slow as he talked.
I waited as patiently as I could as he typed out the relevant details. I was sure whatever he wrote would be cooler than whatever I had planned, but as I thought more about it, I wasn’t sure if it mattered what we wrote. People would come. The girls, and some boys, would come for the sole fact that they knew that I knew Harry Styles. They hoped he would be there. Everyone else would follow. Suddenly, all the doubts were coming back.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked nervously.
Harry turned his attention away from the screen, looking at me thoughtfully. “Why makes you say that?”
I looked down, slightly embarrassed. As soon as this party happened, Harry would know exactly how many friends I didn’t have. Sure, we had joked about it, but I probably wouldn’t even know most of the people at my own party. And what if things got out of hand? What if Harry liked some other girl there more than me?
I cringed at that thought, how could my traitor mind come up with something like that?
“I’ve never thrown a party before.”
He shook his head, and I couldn’t help but take notice of the curls that fell onto his forehead. “Don’t worry about that, Vi. It’ll be great, and I’ll be there so it’ll be amazing.”
I tried to look reassured, but I still wasn’t so sure.
“Now, who should we invite?”
“No, don’t invite her!” Violet practically jumped on top of me, pushing my hand away from her computer trackpad. Apparently, she really didn’t want some girl named Ali to come to her party. She looked up at me, and it was clear that she knew just how ridiculous she looked. “She’s my cousin.”
“Of course,” I said sarcastically.
“She’s also the devil.”
I laughed, covering my mouth in surprise as I realized how loud I was. “Alright, that’s a no then.” I smiled at Violet, content just to spend the afternoon with her even if the task at hand was a bit tedious.
However, a moment later, we were interrupted by a ringing phone. Violet’s phone. She leaned across me to retrieve it from where she had set it on her bedside table, and as she leaned back I saw the name “Alex Martin” illuminated on her screen. I rolled my eyes, despite my efforts not to. Of course he would call right now. Of course he would. What a fucking cockblock.
I took the opportunity to peruse Violet’s Facebook as she chatted with Alex “Massive Twat” Martin.
“Hey Alex,” Violet smiled into the phone, and I clicked on her newsfeed.
She smiled some more. I guessed Alex was saying something adorable. Frankly, it made me want to vomit. I clicked on her status bar.
She laughed, and the blinking cursor on the screen became too tempting to ignore.
“Oh, you already saw that?” She paused. “Yeah, Saturday.”
I typed as quickly as possible, which wasn’t all that quickly, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“I can’t wait!” She looked like she was just barely resisting the urge to clap her hands together in delight, and I hit post.
I smiled, secretly pleased with myself, but that didn’t last very long. I leaned back on my elbows as Violet kept talking. It was pretty rude if you asked me, but she wasn’t asking me. I was just a friend to her, which apparently meant Alex outranked me.
Unfortunately, since I couldn’t see Violet’s face from where I was sitting, I didn’t see what happened next. If I could’ve seen her, I probably would’ve seen her smile replaced by a look of confusion, and then a moment later, anger.
I didn’t see any of it, though, so I wasn’t prepared.
Violet said goodbye shortly, and whipped her head around to face me. She looked more than a little annoyed. “What the fuck, Harry?”
I looked at her blankly, no idea what was going on. One second we were good, joking and having fun, then she has a conversation with stupid Alex, and suddenly she hates me? What the fuck, indeed.
“Why would you do that?”
I was still lost. “What?”
“You didn’t tell me that Alex called.”
“Oh, yeah, I totally forgot.” Fuck. But she couldn’t possibly be that mad just because I’d forgotten to tell her about one phone call. Well, technically I hadn’t really forgotten. But he called at like 6am so it wasn’t totally inconceivable that I had forgotten. It hadn’t even been a particularly interesting phone call. I ran my hand through my hair, hoping she wouldn’t ask exactly what was said during this “forgotten” phone call.
She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped, seeming to reconsider. A moment later she said, “Explain to me why Alex thinks you’re my boyfriend.”
“Umm,” I stalled, not really sure how to respond to her. I remembered, obviously, but I hoped she would mistake my hesitation for recollection. Truth was, I could recall perfectly how I’d all but told Alex that Violet and I were having sex. It couldn’t have been further from the truth, but I’d gone ahead and done it anyway. Because I’m a jealous idiot. I decided it was definitely best not to reveal exactly what was said. “I don’t really remember exactly what I said, but it’s not necessarily a bad thing is it?”
“Except that it is.”
“But wasn’t the plan to make him jealous? So really, this is great.” I smiled, hoping this conversation was over.
But Violet didn’t smile back. “The plan was to make me look desirable, not taken!”
“But wouldn’t it make you more desirable to be taken by a someone like me?”
I didn’t think it was possible, but somehow Violet’s frown got even deeper. “Someone like you?”
“Yeah,” I shrugged. “You know, someone who is like, basically really desirable.” That didn’t come out right.
“You mean, I’m not.”
“What?” Clearly, this conversation wasn’t ending any time soon, and I had no idea where it was heading.
“I’m not desirable. Why would he want me? I’m not anything special. Other than the fact that you, Harry “My hair has its own fanclub” Styles, are pretending to want me. I always suspected that I wasn’t worth it, but thanks for confirming.” Violet looked on the verge of tears now, and I wanted to crawl in a hole and die.
“That wasn’t what I meant. At all.” She couldn’t have been more wrong.
“No, it’s ok—“
I cut her off. “Violet, don’t do this. Any guy would be so fucking lucky to be with you. Honestly, Alex probably liked you before all this plan shit. He’d have to be an idiot not to.”
Violet was sitting, facing me, with her knees drawn up to her chest—assuming the classic insecure position. I reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling it toward me, hoping to draw her out of whatever mood she had fallen into, but she pulled it back. “What did you say to him on the phone?”
We were back to that? I couldn’t keep up with this. “I can’t remember.”
“Bullshit. Why won’t you just tell me?”
“Vi, it doesn’t even matter what I said. Clearly, it didn’t make a whole lot of difference to him. He just called you.”
She stared into my eyes for a few seconds, probably trying to find out what I wasn’t telling her. She looked down. I could tell she was thinking hard, about what, I wasn’t sure, but I could still see the questioning intensity in her eyes when she began to speak quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me that Alex called?”
Shit. She knew I was lying about forgetting, and I had no idea how to answer her without giving up everything. She didn’t look as mad as before, but I didn’t know how she would react, and that was terrifying. What if I told her how I felt, and she decided we couldn’t even be friends any more. She had become so important to me so quickly. I couldn’t lose her like this. I’d tell her eventually, but it had to be right. It couldn’t be when I got caught in a lie and had to tell her. It had to feel right. “Violet…” Again, I started a sentence I didn’t know how to finish, but this time it mattered.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I wish you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“I’m sorry.” I knew this was the wrong thing to say as soon as it came out of my mouth. Why couldn’t I get anything right with her?
“So you admit that you’re lying, but you still won’t tell me why.” She paused, most likely hoping I would just give her the missing piece of the puzzle and make it all better, but I couldn’t. “I don’t understand.” She looked more sad than angry now. Somehow, it was so much worse than before. And there was nothing I could say. Nothing I would say. “Whatever, Harry.” She was telling me to leave, and I wasn’t going to argue with her.
I stood up, feeling like the worst person in the world. “I’ve got to go,” I lied again, “but I’ll see you on Saturday, right?”
Violet just shrugged, and didn’t even bother to walk me out. I didn’t blame her. I didn’t really like myself much at the moment either.
After Harry left, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I stayed sitting on my bed, trying to make myself as small as I could possibly be. I just felt so stupid.
I knew better.
I knew, going in, that this friendship couldn’t last. There was a fundamental difference between Harry and I, and it came down to the simple fact that he was somebody and I was nobody. I knew that.
I knew I shouldn’t have let myself get close to him, but I’m not sure I had much choice in that. He had charmed me completely, almost instantly. And the worst thing was, I knew exactly what was happening. I knew all along. I saw it all coming, but I let it happen anyway.
I saw myself getting too attached, too quickly. As sad as it was, I wasn’t used to feeling so wanted. I saw myself relying on him, craving his company, but I couldn’t bring myself to stop. It was foreign to me, but it was wonderful.
I buried my face in my arms, hoping that if I couldn’t see the world, it wouldn’t be able to see me either. I was aware that I had lashed out at Harry, but he had hit on something deeper, and it was like I couldn’t control myself. But nothing I said wasn’t true. I just hadn’t meant to say it out loud, especially not to Harry.
Part of me just wanted to cry, but the other part wanted to break things. I hated myself for getting mad at Harry, and I desperately wanted to apologize and get my friend back. But he lied to me. He was still lying to me. And I was angry. So angry that I felt like calling him up just to yell at him some more.
I was a mess.
I lifted my head, blinking as my eyes readjusted to the light. There was nothing I could do about the Harry situation at the moment. I grabbed my computer, hoping for some type of distraction.
My Facebook profile greeted me, and I briefly wondered if Harry had been looking through it. I dug my fingernails into the palms of my hands as I realized distracting myself from that curly-haired prick might be a little harder than I thought. I couldn’t have been more right. A second later, I scrolled a little further down the page, curious as to what Harry may have seen there. That was when I saw my latest status update and nearly threw my computer against the wall.
“For everyone wondering: Harry Styles is just as great as you think he is. And get your minds out of the gutters, I don’t mean in bed! I mean on the floor ;)”
It already had 124 likes. And, soon, I was sure it would have a lot more. As soon as the fans found it (if they hadn’t already), the whole world would see it.
The guiltiness and sadness from before were gone. They were swallowed up by the rage I was feeling now. Harry and I weren’t even friends at the moment, and he was still finding ways to fuck with me.
I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text.
Don’t bother showing up on Saturday.
Anonymous asked: Did you stop writing the fanfic?!
No! I’m so sorry that it’s taking me forever to update lately! I just started a new job and it’s taking up a lot of time, but I’m hoping to start updating more regularly soon! I’m like halfway done with the new chapter so it should be up pretty soon!
Anonymous asked: Update (: And when do you think the story will be finish? I don't want it to be finished but just wondering!!
Honestly, I have no timeline for when it will be done! I think it’ll just feel done at some point, but I think it’ll be clear when it starts to wind down.
I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. Not exactly an unusual thing for me. I was used to the crack of dawn “emergency” phone calls from management or the odd friend from home who had forgotten the time difference. But the phone could wait today. I was so comfortable and warm. I didn’t want to get up. Ever.
It struck me that I had my arms around something that was acting as the major source of my warmth. I opened my eyes slowly, seeing a head of messy brown hair lain on my chest. Violet and I must have fallen asleep sometime during the movie. I smiled to myself, ridiculously content in the moment. The phone could wait.
But apparently whoever was calling could not. The iPhone on the bedside table rang incessantly. Funny, I hadn’t remembered leaving it there the night before. I picked it up, trying to move as little as possible so as not to wake the sleeping girl. I was surprised the noise hadn’t woken her yet, but I figured my movement might. I brought the phone swiftly to my ear, accepting the call without even bothering to look at who was calling.
“Hello,” I answered quietly. Violet stirred slightly. It was so cheesy but for some reason it made me embarrassingly happy that she hadn’t responded to the sound of the phone but instead to the sound of my voice, which was much, much quieter.
“Who is this?” The person on the other end sounded confused and a bit angry.
“Um…” I paused, still trying to speak quietly, “you called me?” I wasn’t eager to just tell this person my name. I didn’t want them to know that they had accidentally stumbled upon Harry Styles’ phone number. It could be some crazy fan or something. I pulled the phone back to check the caller ID. The name I saw made me feel a little ill.
This wasn’t my phone. Obviously. Probably should’ve noticed that sooner, but I had been a little preoccupied with the girl practically sleeping on top of me. I smirked slightly. It was me holding Violet right now. Not stupid Alex Martin.
I held the phone back up to my ear. The boy sounded flustered now. “I was trying to call Violet. Um Violet Bloom. Is this her number?”
I almost laughed. I disliked this boy much more than was healthy, I was sure. “Yeah, sorry about that, mate. This is Harry. Just woke up and got my phone mixed up with Vi’s.” I needed for it to be clear that I had spent the night with Violet. She would probably murder me if she were awake, but she was back to sleeping soundly. “You want me to give her a message when she wakes up?”
I could tell he was trying to think of something to say. Clearly, I had caught him off guard.
“I guess just tell Vi that Alex called. Thanks.”
I scowled at his mimicking of my nickname for Violet. What a wanker.
“Yeah, no problem, Alex.” I pronounced his name a bit mockingly. I knew I shouldn’t have been as angry as I was, but honestly I wanted to punch the guy right in the jaw. We both knew why he was calling. He was interested, just like I knew he would be.
I looked down at Violet, wondering how often Alex called her. Had I just ruined a once in a lifetime chance for her? Not that I was that upset about it, but she would be. I’d have to tell her about the call eventually. I wondered on a scale from 1 to the Hulk (don’t judge, we had just watched the Avengers), how angry she’d be. I was not anticipating a great reaction to this one, but I’d cross that bridge when I came to it. Right now I was just going to enjoy the moment.
Too bad it had to end eventually.
In my defense, I hate waking up in hotel rooms. It always made me feel disoriented and strangely disappointed. For some reason hotels always look shabbier in the morning than they did the night before, even the nicest ones. But this morning was different.
My first conscious thought was that my pillow smelled really good. Like crazy good.
I stand by the fact that anyone in my position would have done the same thing.
“Are you sniffing me?”
A deep, raspy voice shocked me out of the little love affair I was having with what I thought was my pillow. I opened my eyes to see that my pillow was actually a body. Harry’s body. I pulled myself up slowly, the cold air hitting me all at once. I really just wanted to lie back down and cuddle with him. Because I was cold. Obviously. Hotel rooms are cold, ok? Powerful air conditioning and all that.
“I thought you were my pillow,” I said grumpily. I was not a morning person.
“Do you often sniff your pillows like that? Or am I just a particularly good smelling pillow?”
“I can’t deal with your sass right now, Styles.” I couldn’t really bring myself to look at Harry. I was mortified, but I figured my not-altogether-fake grumpiness was a pretty good way of hiding my embarrassment.
“My cologne is called Bleu de Chanel. If you were wondering. But I think it’s mostly worn off by now so I think it’s just my natural scent that you like so much.”
“It is way too early for your gross overconfidence.” I didn’t become Nice Violet until I had been awake for at least an hour.
I shrugged. That was all the response he was going to get out of me. Noon on a Sunday? Sounded about right. I ran a hand through my hair, finally looking at Harry. I instantly wished I hadn’t. Why was it that the boy had a team of stylists at his disposal, but he looked amazing even when just rolling out of bed? How was that fair?
“Also you were the one who couldn’t get enough of me. So it’s not exactly overconfidence, is it?” He laughed lightly.
I literally couldn’t understand why he was not running away from my terrible morning appearance/personality right now. Instead, he was just smiling at me, laughing, joking like this was the most fun he’s had in ages. I didn’t even like me in the morning, but for some reason he seemed to.
“Wait, shit, where’s my phone?” I looked around the room, hoping I didn’t look quite as frantic as I felt.
“Why do you need it?” he asked even more slowly than usual, if that was even possible. He had a look in his eye that I had never seen before. “Expecting a call?”
What was he even talking about? “No, it’s just I didn’t exactly tell my parents that I wasn’t going to come home last night. I need to call Char.”
“Oh,” he said, before quickly locating my phone on the bedside table next to him. “Here, but why do you need to call Char if your parents are the ones you’re worried about?”
I held up a finger, telling him to wait as I looked at the strangely blank lock screen of my iPhone. No notifications. Weird.
But when I opened it, there they all were. 10 text messages and 5 missed calls. Strange that they didn’t show up immediately, but I’d deal with that later. I quickly called Char, bouncing my legs impatiently as I waited for her to answer.
“Finally! I called you like a trillion times last night and this morning!” she answered, skipping any form of greeting.
“I just woke up….” I knew she would read more into that than I wanted her to, but it was the truth. I didn’t think there was any lie that could really help anyway.
“So you’re with Harry? Holy shit! What happened?! Tell me everything!” she practically yelled down the line.
I snuck a glance at Harry, hoping he wasn’t hearing this, only to find him staring at me intently, his green eyes boring into my brown ones for a moment. How had I gotten myself into this mess?
“Nothing, Char…. Just… Did my parents call you?” I broke away from Harry’s gaze as I spoke, ending our mini staring contest.
“Yeah, your mom called. Don’t worry I covered for you, and I think she bought it.”
I let out a relieved sigh, shooting a smile in Harry’s direction. “Thanks. I owe you!”
“I was hoping you’d say that. I know exactly how you can make it up to me, too.”
I hadn’t stopped smiling at Harry, and I noticed that there was a similar smile playing on his lips, too. I was sure Char could hear the smile on my face through the phone, though I was pretending to whine. “Oh my God, do I even want to know?”
“You can get me in a room with Zayn Malik.”
I laughed loudly, still looking at Harry, and I saw his smile grow wider, his dimples framing it perfectly. “I’ll talk to Harry.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? I didn’t think you’d go for that, and—“
I cut her off, repeating, “I’ll talk to Harry.”
I quickly thanked her again and assured her I’d tell her everything later, although I wasn’t sure there was much to tell, before hanging up.
“What was that all about?” Harry asked me as he stood up, his voice slightly strained as he arched his back and stretched his arms up in the air. He was still wearing the t-shirt and jeans that he had on the night before. Everything was just a little more wrinkled now.
“Yesterday, I didn’t think my parents would be cool with me going to hang out with a guy in a hotel room so I told them I was going to Char’s. She covered for me and told them I was spending the night there.”
Harry’s mouth seemed to fight between a smile and a frown for a minute, eventually settling into a hard line across his face. I already missed the dimples. “You lied to your parents about me?”
“Yeah, but it’s no big deal. What they don’t know can’t hurt them, right? It’s not like I did anything actually bad.” I shrugged. As soon as I got the all-clear from Char, the whole lying to my parents thing became a non-issue for me.
Harry let out a deep breath. “Well I guess it doesn’t matter then since they’re not gonna know.”
I didn’t know why he cared. It didn’t matter what my parents thought of him. I was the one that was going to get in trouble if they found out. But they weren’t going to. It was a non-issue.
Harry’s easy smile returned to his face. “So when am I finally going to meet Char? Or the other one? Tori?”
I looked up at Harry from my position on the bed. I didn’t care if this wasn’t even my bed. Nobody could make me get out of bed before I was ready. His body was framed by the sun streaming in from the windows and I couldn’t help but think of how incredibly lucky I was to be able to add him to my admittedly short list of friends. He was one of the good ones. “Sooner than you might think!”
Harry raised his eyebrows, clearly curious.
“Char’s request for covering for me was that she wants to meet Zayn.”
Harry laughed loudly. “Of course she does. Everyone always talks about the curls getting the girls or whatever, but that quiff really seems to work for him. Or maybe it’s that whole dangerous vibe he’s got going. Maybe I should tap into that. How d’you think I’d look with a cigarette and a leather jacket? Pretty cool, right?” He scratched his head thoughtfully, as if he were really considering it.
I shook my head at Harry’s ridiculous musings. “Oh please, you could never look dangerous.” I got up, quickly crossing the room to stand beside him. “You’re much too cute for that,” I said as I reached up (way up for me, considering he was nearly a foot taller than me), and playfully tousled his artfully messy curls.
“Hey! I resent that!” he said, grabbing my hand to move it away from his hair. “I’m very manly.”
I snorted, very attractively I might add, letting Harry know just how “manly” I really thought he was.
He ignored my outburst, saying, “So have you thought anymore about the party thing?”
I groaned. “No. I have to talk to my parents about it.” I was pretty sure I knew what they were going to say, though.
“You’re actually going to ask them? What happened to ‘what they don’t know can’t hurt them,’ huh?” He imitated me, talking in a much higher pitch than usual, but since it was Harry, he just managed to sound like a normal person for once.
“I can’t not ask them. I’m the good child in my family!”
Harry just shrugged. “I’ve never been the good child so I wouldn’t know,” he said, dropping the subject.
“I better go. You know, stop tempting fate with my parents.”
“Yeah, course, babe.” Harry reached over to give me a side hug, which luckily hid the fact that I still blushed every time he called me babe.
I quickly grabbed my running clothes as I was not about to leave the hotel in the same clothes from the day before. Harry would just have to live without his t-shirt and sweats for the next few days.
I ran out of the hotel much the same way I had run in, hoping to avoid attention from the fangirls at all costs.
I should’ve known it wouldn’t work that way.