Paper Airplane

19

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

                I found that it was nearly impossible, despite all possible efforts, to hold back a giggle when sat next to Harry Styles in the middle of a mall as he told me his life story whilst in a vibrating chair.  I was in one too, but while I chose to enjoy it in silence, he chose to talk – mainly because he quite liked the sound of himself vibrating along with the chair.

                “I loved baking,” he told me, his words drawn out purposely.  I rolled my eyes.  “I was pretty good at it, to be completely honest.”

                “Were you?” I asked, humoring him.  Frankly I didn’t care all that much.  I was too busy reveling in the fact that we’d been here about an hour now and no one had noticed us aside from two girls near Claire’s who were sworn into secrecy by a kiss on each of their cheeks from Harry.  Apparently, when just one boy is out and about rather than all five of them, even with a security guard and a pink-haired girl, he’s much less conspicuous.

                “Yes, I was.  What about you?  What are you good at?”  He looked over at me.

                I kept my head tilted back on the head rest, gazing up at the ceiling as I considered lying to him.  But then I figured that the more we talked about pointless things, the more I remained distracted from how much I hated the situation.  So I told him.  “I used to dance.”

                “Yeah?”  There was a smile in his voice, so I had to look to see for myself, and sure enough, it was there, dimples and all.  My confession seemed to have shocked him.

                “Is that surprising?”

                He shrugged, turning his gaze away now.  “A little.  I mean no offence or anything, but if that football game was any indication of your athletic abilities and coordination – “

                “Ha ha,” I smirked.

                He chuckled.  “But that’s cool.  Do you still do it?”

                “No.  I stopped once my brother left home.”

                “Why?  Were you good?”

                “It just wasn’t the same without him around.  I don’t know.  I don’t like change; it affects me in weird ways.”

                “I see.  Well what about the fact that you had to make that change of no longer dancing?”

                Why was he asking such complicated questions?  “I don’t know.  Hence why I said weird, I guess.  It doesn’t make sense.”

                “No, it doesn’t,” he agreed.

                And then we sat in silence for a moment, and it was sort of nice because it was a comfortable silence for probably the first time since we’ve known each other.  Harry was most likely contemplating my little story while I was really just thinking about what else we were going to do here until dinner time.  Oddly, though, it wasn’t worrying me that I wasn’t sure.

                The weird thing about this situation is that I don’t want to dislike Harry, especially after this hour we’ve spent together now.  I find that he’s actually interesting to hang around, and I wouldn’t mind being friends with him.  However, I hate what he’s pulled me into and I can’t help but be upset about it because it’s the worst way I could have ever imagined spending my summer.  I had thought just coming to L.A. in general was as bad as it could get, but I was so wrong.