Clandestine {Harry Styles Fanfiction}

Part 17

                “See, you’re blushing. Go on, spill.” Quinn directed my attention to my reflection in a store front. My cheeks were wearing their trademark rosy hue.

                “Is it a boy from your home in Alabama?” Angelina asked eagerly.

                “She’s from North Carolina.” Kate was quick to correct Angelina, who waved her off.

                “Same thing. Is he a cowboy?” Angelina continued to question me, “Is he in university?”

                I shook my head and giggled, staring fixedly at the dried gum that decorated the brick sidewalk underneath our feet.

                “Maddie!” Quinn whined, displeased at my unwillingness, “Tell us!”

                “Does he drive a tractor? What’s his name, Buck?”

                “Is it Wilbur? Or, I know! Clive!”

                “Rowdy? Shane? Tex?”

Sima began sprouting all of the cowboy names she could think of. A lady wheeling her son in a stroller turned and gave us a peculiar stare.

I laughed and laughed as they tried to think of more rancher names, calling them out in what was supposed to be a southern drawl between giggles.

“Let’s go in here,” I pointed to a small souvenir shop with the Australian flag strung across the window. A bell dinged as I pushed open the door and the other girls trailed after me, still snickering.

“She needs to buy a postcard for her booty call,” teased Quinn. I rolled my eyes good naturedly at her banter, before spinning the rack that displayed all of the colorful cards. I selected a shiny one with a pretty picture of the Sydney Opera House.  I wanted to buy postcards, just not for anyone named Buck.

“I can’t believe this is our only day in Sydney.” Angelina moaned to no one in particular.

“It isn’t. We come back the second of March. Didn’t you read the schedule?” Sima asked, running a finger over the carved wooden boomerangs.

“No,” huffed Angelina in return. She flounced away.

I chose three postcards for Thalia, Diego and Violet back in London. The postcard I’d decided on for my Grandfather made me giggle; a Kangaroo riding a motorcycle. I could picture him putting it on his fridge with magnets shaped like cardinals and blue jays. My Grandfather liked birds.

Come to think of it, I should probably get him some magnets, I thought to myself, and picked out a pack of ‘Landscapes in Australia’ magnets.

My fingers hovered over the last postcard I’d selected, wondering whether or not to put it back. It was a picture of the harbor at night with the city lights reflected on the rippling water like Christmas tree ornaments. The very same view I’d admired last night.

I wasn’t sure if I should send a postcard to Isabelle. I didn’t know where exactly I stood with her. I was so torn, torn between wanting to believe that Isabelle would never do something like what she did to him, to Harry, and knowing deep down inside that something in her had flipped. The Isabelle that I knew would never have used someone the way she did. But that was just it; did I really know Isabelle? Was she really the same girl that I’d grown up with or had she changed?

I was so confused. I didn’t want to lose her, lose the person that was the closest thing to a sister to me. But I’d seen the look of anguish in his eyes. I saw how lonely he’d been, how fearful he was of disappointing the people he loved. Didn’t she care? She had to care…