Little Shy Ariel (ft. Harry Styles)

Chapter 22 - Mare's Song

Harry is so nice and funny in this really dorky way. He likes making people laugh, or maybe making people happy. He’s always telling me funny anecdotes of his life, of his friends and his life as part of the biggest boy band. I kind of feel like I know Louis, Liam and Zayn although they aren’t even here in the centre. He’s also made me tell him about my life and although it’s not in the slightest interesting, he still looks invested and makes me more questions. We actually talk a lot even if I my heart is beating like crazy all the time, even if my guts twist and I feel all tingly inside.

Mare says I feel like that because I fancy him. I think she’s right. I mean, I do feel like the girls in movies and books: I think a lot about him. If I’m not thinking of my work with Mare, he’s normally what’s in my mind. I do feel sad if I don’t see him or when we say goodbye. And it does kind of break my heart knowing how impossible this is. If I were someone different, if I had a different personality it could be possible. I know Harry is not the type who would not like a girl because she’s not pretty or famous. He cares about what the girl has to offer, and I mean what she has inside. Harry could date a normal girl, but I’m not normal. I’m ordinary, but not normal. It’s hard for me to speak to him, I still can barely meet a stranger’s gaze, I still can’t freely talk to random people. I’m someone who’s so afraid of people without a good reason. How could he like someone like me? How could he like me?

Liking someone like Harry is easy. It’s so easy to fall for him, for his charming smiles, his silly jokes, his adorable laughter, his good heart, his kindness. How could someone like him like someone like me? He would like someone different, someone like… like Mare. She would actually look good next to him. She’s a good match for Harry.

Couples need to walk hand in hand, together. One can’t drag the other. I feel like Harry and Mare are peers, they would work perfectly together. Harry would have to drag me because I would always be behind, so behind and I could never catch up with him. It would never work.

And I guess Mare caught Harry’s eye. They’ve only met once but he asked me about her.

“So… that girl, Mare. You’re helping her with her music?” he asked me a couple of days ago.

“Uh… yeah,” I answered, confused that he would bring her up when we were talking about his old job before he auditioned for the X Factor. “She wants to be a singer.”

“That’s good,” he replied and then the conversation died, he stayed staring at the horizon and I wondering what was on his mind.

And even if I know Mare —or any other girl— is better for Harry, even if I rationally know I don’t have a chance as something else but a friend, it still hurts. I never felt like this before, I never felt this kind of pain in my chest and that weight on my shoulders. I’ve wanted other things and known I can’t have them, but still, Harry is different.

Heartbreak is different.

I know many girls feel like this around the world. Girls who cry and curse their lucks because they’ll never have Harry. I am lucky, though, because I’ve met him. I can call him my friend and that’s so much better than nothing. I should be grateful that I’m his friend instead of moping around because he would never fancy me. Plus, I’ve got to experience something I never felt before, so I’ve won in a different sense.

Still, with all this that’s been happening, with the video not being successful and with the realisation that I fancy Harry, I’ve lost my smile. It’s not exactly like I’m miserable now, but after being so happy for a while, after not being able to get rid of the smile… well, the change is evident.

“Ariel,” my father says when we’re having dinner. I look at him, an open expression so he can go on. “Are you all right? You look down lately. Is everything okay? Did something happen?”