About (Harry Styles)

8

My mother despises the other side of this town. She detests the idea of crossing the river. Except when she has to cross the bridge to get to larger cities like Chicago or Minneapolis, then she holds her breath until we hit the freeway. Not literally but she locks the doors and avoids any eye contact with people.

Ironically, my mom and biological dad were born on the west side, found love on the west side, and in the end, divorced on the west side.

"How did you like London?" My mom asks as she glances at me from her passenger seat. "Oh my god. I bet they have the best stores over there. We definitely have to go back."

"We should," I reply half-heartedly, keeping my eyes out, remembering the familiar houses we pass to get back home. "I love the ambience of it there. Except sometimes the weather is kinda wet and gloomy."

"That's not much of a problem for you as it is for me. I know how much you like that type of weather."

A silently chuckle in my throat, a bit surprised that my own mom remembers such a tedious preference of mine. I absolutely, strongly dislike hot weather. Especially hot summers in Wisconsin.

Sometimes it would rain. On a good day.

Once we're about two minutes from the house, my phone rings. I search through my bag for about good amount of time until I finally see it.

It's a text message from some random number. Honestly, I love getting messages from unknown numbers. Sometimes they're the most hilarious things to read. One time, a message read, "Had such a great time last night. I hope to see you again.", and I literally laughed my ass off.

Like dude, I think you just got fake numbered because the only thing I spent last night with was my Netflix subscription.

"Hey, is this Elaine's number?" is all it reads.

"Yeah, who's this?" I type and send.

Seconds later, the number appears on my screen again, except this time it's a phone call.

"Hello?" I answer, a little skeptical at who it is.

"Hey Elaine, it's Niall." Just from his voice, I already knew it was him.

"Hey, how are you?" I ask and my mother whips her head around, her thick blonde curls swaying with the quick motion. Her eyes widen in interest and I wave her off.

She really wants to marry me off.

"Good, good. You have a safe flight?"

"I'm still talking to you, aren't I?"

He chuckles, and I'm glad that he's not turned off by my joke.

"I just have a quick request," he says in a cautious tone. "Harry's here, right by my side actually."

"He is?" I picture the two of them sitting in the lounge and Harry Styles, at the mention of his own name, flies to Niall's side and listens in on the conversation.

"Yes, he is. And in the words of your friend, Marco, a man isn't a man unless he asks the girl for her number himself. Do you agree with that?" I say I do and he laughs through the phone. I think he's laughing at Harry Styles.

"Just give me the phone." I hear Harry Styles' voice say to Niall. I hear Niall's infectious laugh again and it's as though I hear a quick beating through the speaker, like footsteps across a hardwood floor. I stare at my screen in confusion and replace it by my ear again.

"Hello? Niall? You still there?"

Next I hear the sound of a door closing and a continuous beating.