Golden [h.s.]

22. mimosas

"Can we get another refill please?" Lydia turns to the waiter, flashing a smile. The poor guy is clearly dazed, but nods quickly before scurrying off.

"Lyds, this is going to be our fourth one!" I shriek. "I refuse to get drunk before 3!" My best friend just shrugs.

"Oh c'mon, Ella, the mimosas are bottomless, I'm taking full advantage."

Our glasses are soon refilled and we both take sips. I turn to my waffles, taking another bite. It's Tuesday morning and Lydia and I are at brunch at the cutest place in the city. I've been updating her on this past weekend that I spent with Harry and she can hardly keep still.

"What does 'I want you' even mean? Did he ask you to be official, are you two dating now or...? I mean, you guys fucked, twice so—"

"Oh my god, Lydia!" I exclaim, cutting her off and she shrugs again. "Shhh!"

"Hey, it's the truth! All jokes aside, aren't you wondering? Do you want it to be official?" She asks, stuffing a forkful of eggs into her mouth. My best friend's blue eyes eagerly await my answer.

I sigh. I can't lie, it has been on my mind...of course, we know between the two of us that we want to exclusively just see each other.

Do I need the title?

I haven't had an actual boyfriend since I dated Scott Havens back in freshman year of high school, and I was only 15 then. Almost 10 years later, and I'm so out of the game and so confused.

"I don't know," I answer Lydia honestly. "'I want you' means...means that we want this with each other, whatever this is..." I take a sip from my glass. "I'm trying not to overthink it."

"It's harder, is it, since he's famous?" Lydia asks. I purse my lips.

"Honestly, that isn't important to me," I reply. "It's so easy to forget that with him, he isn't Harry Styles to me, not in the way the world sees him...I don't know, Lyds. I really, really, really like him."

'Like' seems too silly, too childish. That can't even begin to describe or even touch upon my feelings for Harry. He makes me feel so alive, he makes every cell in my body awaken, he makes the fire rise in me. 'Like' is too dull, especially after the weekend that we spent together.

But now Lydia has me thinking. Do I want it to be official, do I want that title?

Boyfriend, girlfriend. It seems silly...but the thought of being Harry's girlfriend makes the butterflies in my stomach soar.

Lydia shrugs again. "All I'm saying is, he put his wee-wah in your yoo-hoo, and you deserve some type of title."

I nearly spit the champagne back into my glass. The mimosas clearly have gotten to her.

"His what in my what?" I ask, laughing. I let loose a snort, and cover my mouth, my eyes widening. Lydia and I burst into a fit of giggles, too loudly because the people at the table beside us shoot us dirty looks.

"On to more urgent matters...your birthday! A week and a half left!" Lydia shrieks. I groan.

She's always went above and beyond for my birthday, and not that I'm not grateful, I just don't like all the attention. Last year, the girl literally rented a boat and we spent the night drinking and dancing on the Hudson with a bunch of strangers.

Being seasick and wasted is not a pleasant combination.

I don't remember a thing from that night.

"You can just give me a free birthday tattoo," I grin and Lydia rolls her eyes.

"Boriiiingggg," she yawns. She then launches into another one of her crazy ideas, and I shake my head, wondering how she even comes up with them in the first place.

My alarm rings on my phone, making me jump. Fuck. 3:00?! We got to the cafe at 12:30!

"Fuck, I have to go across town to get my blouse from the cleaners before my shift," I tell Lydia. And we all know how insane traffic is in this city, plus I have to sober up before work.  We split the bill and call our separate Ubers, since Lydia's going to Jax's place. Hers arrives pretty quickly.

"Call me later!" Lydia shouts through the window as the car drives off. I wave her off.

I glance down at my phone, tapping my foot impatiently. 10 minutes away, but it looks like the driver is barely moving. I look at the time. 3:20. At this rate with traffic, I'll get to the cleaners and home after 5, only to rush to make it for my shift on time.

Fuck it.

I cancel the Uber, and turn to my Maps app, seeing that a subway entrance is only two blocks away. If I run, I can get down there in 5 minutes.

I turn around, heading in the direction of the subway. I run as fast as I can, dodging the pedestrians. The fact that I'm a little boozed up isn't helping too much. I dodge in front of a truck just as the driver honks his horn.

It all happens so fast. One minute I'm running across the street, and the next minute I'm on the ground, face first, hands out to catch myself and brace the impact. My ears are ringing, but I catch a few phrases.

"Oh my god!"

"Did he just knock her down?"

"Someone call 911!"

Screams and shouts and honks are heard all around me. I don't know if it's shock, but I barely register any pain. My vision is blurred and the ringing in my ears is only now starting to subside.

I feel hands help me up as people circle around me, and I struggle. Giving up, I sit on the street, attempting to focus my eyes on what's going around me.

"Hey! Hey, can you hear me? What's your name?" The man waving his hand in front of my face sounds miles away.

Dazed, I look up. His eyes are green, not as vibrant as Harry's.

Harry.

Just like that, with the simple thought of him, it's as if the brain switches in my brain. I look down and I nearly throw up. Blood is gushing from my knee and now I feel a sharp pain on my right elbow. I hear sirens in the distance, a signal that an ambulance is on its way.

Well, fuck. Talk about being late for work.