Fratboy Harry and Other Stories

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? (A Short Story)

I was exhausted. I'd spent the day Christmas shopping, the first half shared with my mother up until we stopped for lunch. Then after we parted ways, I continued my hunt for the perfect gifts, checking off my list one by one. By six o'clock, I'd called it a day, pushing my door open with my shoulder as I struggled with enough bags to completely cover the foyer. I set them down with a sigh, shutting the door behind me and tip-toeing around the bags to get to my kitchen where I dropped my purse and keys. I took a gander back at the mess in the hallway, my eyelids heavy with fatigue. Making my way over, I grabbed only one of the bags, leaving the rest to be put away later.

Once in my room, I laid the bag on the bed, removing the dress I'd purchased for myself. It was a pretty deep crimson shade with a simple A-line hem, and it cost almost as much as all the gifts I'd bought put together, but it was totally worth it.

Harry was having a Christmas party.

Harry Styles and I had gone out a handful times. I wasn't really sure if you could say we were "dating". How many dates constitutes dating? One? Five? Seventeen? I never really knew the answer to that. He'd taken me to dinner a few times and to a party another, and we had a good time, at least I thought so. I just felt like it was too soon to tell how he felt about me. But I liked him. I liked him a lot.

This wasn't really a date though. This was a party he was throwing for all his friends and other people he knew. I would just be one of many to attend. Nevertheless, I was excited to be going, and this little red number I hoped would make an impression.

I hung up the dress on the hook that hung on the closet door, pressing my hand along the soft, silky fabric. I smiled to myself as I thought of Harry, the way his green eyes twinkled when he smiled and the way his soft lips felt against mine when he'd kissed me goodnight. I sincerely hoped he would kiss me again. Maybe even under the mistletoe? I chuckled to myself as I made my way back out into the hall, grabbing the rest of my bags and bringing them into the bedroom. Too tired to sort through them at the moment, I left them lined up at the foot of the bed and returned to the kitchen to get a bottle of water. That's when I heard my cell phone going off in my purse. I smiled when I saw Harry's name on the screen.

"Hi, Harry," I greeted.

"Hi, Rebecca," he said in a low tone. "How are you?"

"Tired from shopping all day, but otherwise I'm great."

"Good," Harry commented with a smile in his voice. "Just wanted to confirm that you're coming to my party tomorrow."

"Yes," I replied. "I sent the RSVP. Didn't you get it?"

"I did. I just wanted to double check personally."

"Oh," I grinned. "I feel special."

Harry chuckled. "You should. I'm really looking forward to seeing you."

I felt my cheeks stretch as my smiled widened. "Me too. Can't wait."

"See you tomorrow, love," he said softly before we disconnected.

I leaned against the kitchen counter with a sigh. He was looking forward to seeing me. Me? Or did he tell everyone that? Yes, that was probably it. He was always so cordial and charming. Still, as I went to bed that night, I couldn't help but be a tiny bit excited that he was glad I was coming.

— —

I'd been there a good thirty minutes and I hadn't seen him yet. Sure, the place was crowded to say the least, and he was only one face in a sea of many, but I'd started to get the feeling that my efforts in making sure my dress and makeup were perfect, and the fact that I'd taken a taxi instead of driving my own car so I wouldn't have to park so far and walk in heels, were all in vain.