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Finally, I get out of practice. I have been racing cars since I can remember, starting out with go-karts my grandpa used to put me in then moving to stock cars when I turned 14. In New York, you can't get your permit until you're 16, but you can get a NASCAR license at the age of 14 which allows you to race cars on a track.

Both my dad and grandpa are super into racing, so my grandma reluctantly agreed to let me try it. Even though I have lost my total love of it and need for competition, it's still a good stress relief, so on nice days like today, I take advantage and go for a drive at the local track that is not too far from my college.

I take a quick shower in the locker room before throwing my hair up in a ponytail and putting on my sweats and sweatshirt. I get in my normal car and drive to my off campus house. The drive from the track to my house is nice now that it's mid-October. The leaves are slowly changing and soon the trees will be covered in snow. The beautiful reds, yellows and oranges paint the scenery for my drive home.

Pulling into my driveway, I see an unfamiliar car. My roommates must have someone over. We're all good friends so it doesn't bother me that there's a stranger. When I get out of my car and grab my bag, I turn to walk towards my back door and see an all too familiar silhouette sitting on my back steps.

"Harry freaking Styles." I state in shock, crossing my arms over my chest. "This is a surprise. What brings you to this college town?"

His eyes bore into mine, his face holding an intense look while he gets to his feet. "You do."

"I'm sorry, did I hear that right?" I decide to hold my ground, not moving my arms or my body any closer to him. "Because if I remember correctly, you were the one who hasn't called me in two years."

"You know there's more to it than that, Dylan." Harry takes a step closer to me.

I let go of a deep breath. "Are you here to talk about it? If so, we need to go inside." Out of habit, my head swivels to make sure no one is around to see this.

He just nods and follows me as I unlock my doors, making my way inside my house.

"The living room is in there." I point in its direction through the kitchen. "Make yourself at home. Sorry for the weird decorations, I have guy roommates," his body stiffens just a little bit, "and they think everything is a decoration."

This makes him laugh as he makes his way inside.

I shout to him, asking if he wants a glass of water, but he turns it down. I get myself one, wishing I could have an alcoholic drink at this point, but it's about 4pm on a Tuesday. I grab a blanket from my room and bring it out to sit on the couch opposite Harry. It may be warm out, but my blanket is like a shield for me at the moment.

"What are you actually here for?" I ask him knowing full well that he's here for more than just to catch up.

After just a few moments of silence, he speaks up. "Remember when we first met?"

"How could I possibly forget?" I respond, wondering where he's taking this conversation.

The date was March 9th 2012.

"Dylan, you know you have to meet them at some point." My dad reminds me.

We're walking into Radio City Music Hall for the night. I'm wearing my black "Killer Queen" shirt with dark blue jeans that are cuffed and black converse with a maroon scrunchie around my wrist. My strawberry blonde, curly hair that hangs down to my chest is loose, framing my face.

Big Time Rush is playing here and One Direction is opening for them. I love Big Time Rush's music, even though they are super pop and dance. Typically, I am more into what my dad listens to, old school rock with random things mixed in, but there's something about Big Time Rush that I like. It might just be that I am a teenage girl and they are hot as fuck, but man, they do things to me.

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