"But I don't have a tent!"
That's what I'd exclaimed numerous times when the suggestion of a camping weekend in the Peak District had come up. And yet, with a devious smile that I didn't miss, Sarah suggested that I bunk with Harry.
I'd looked at him, expecting to see his own mortification but he kept his eyes intent on the coffee he'd been drinking, not saying a word.
Upon realising he wasn't going to comment on Sarah's suggestion, instead leaving the decision entirely down to me, I couldn't say no. Because the only thing worse than the idea of sharing a tent with Harry for a weekend and having our friends tease us about it, would be to gain yet another look of dejection from Harry to add to my collection.
So I'd gulped and said Okay.
That's how I'd found myself in a field, surrounded by a beautiful vista of rolling hills and valleys, decorated with clear running streams and slick wet rocks, attempting to help Harry erect a tent.
"Just clip those poles together, Ry - no, not those ones. Those ones. There, you got it."
He was being incredibly patient with me, considering I'd woken up late this morning, rushing out of my front door still running a brush through my hair when he'd pulled up outside my house. I'd then made us stop for three separate toilet breaks along the way after sinking back a ginormous flask of tea I'd brought on the journey.
And then to top it off, it turns out I was rubbish at camping.
"I'm rubbish at camping," I voice aloud as I attempt to thread a pole through an annoyingly small hole in the tent.
Harry huffs a laugh and walks over to me, taking the pole out of my hand and flipping it the other way.
"You're not," he says with a smile. "You've just not done it before. The tent's the hard part, it's all fun from there on out."
"Exactly!" Lucy chimes in from where she's already whipped up her own tent - with no thanks to Krish, apparently he's as adept with this stuff as I am. "Just wait until we've hiked Kinder Scout and you've got the air in your lungs and the best view you've ever seen!"
Turns out both Harry and Lucy love hiking. Sarah and Mitch were the ones to suggest the trip, but Harry and Lucy had been the ones pulling up trails on their phones and discussing their favourite walks and hikes and in all honestly it had left me feeling...jealous.
"It really is a great view," Harry says to me whilst he's taken over single handedly working on our tent now. "I can't wait to show it to you."
"It's definitely worth it," Sarah sidles up to us, offering out a biscuit which I gladly take. "Very romantic."
I turn and glare at her, unfortunately having a mouth full of digestive stopping me from hissing at her that I know what she's doing. All she does is smirk back and takes a large bite of her own snack before she skips back to where Mitch is pumping up an inflatable mattress.
"Do we have one of those? I can probably blow it up without supervision." I ask Harry, watching Mitch inflate what looks like a bigger mattress than the bed I have at home.
Harry laughs before he looks over his shoulder. "'Fraid not, just a couple of sleeping bags. That okay?"
I nod. "Of course.
"Our Mitchell is too precious to sleep on the ground like us mere peasants," Harry chides out, to which Mitch drops the hand pump to the ground with a grimace.
"I have sciatica, Harold," he snips back with a frown, Sarah patting his shoulder sympathetically.
"I just brought my duvet," Krish offers up with a shrug from where he sits unfolding a set of green camping chairs.
"See," Harry points with a humorous glint in his eye. "We all just make do. Not an inflatable in sight over here."
"I'll shove this pump up your arse and inflate you in a minute," Mitch retorts, waving the hand pump threateningly in Harry's direction but he only laughs it off.
I look to where the tent is almost fully up, Harry hammering some little silver pegs into the corner.
"Harry, what is that?"
He stands up and brushes off his hands. "What?"
"The tent. It's..."
"Small?" Krish offers up, looking at the green shiny covering that was supposed to house both myself and Harry for the night.
"It's a two man tent," Harry shakes his head at me, not seeing the issue.
It looks like it could accommodate two children comfortably perhaps, not two adults unless we wanted to be sleeping practically on top of one another.
Shit.
Harry sees my look of apprehension and scruffs the back of his neck, stepping closer to me.
"Me and Mitch have shared it plenty of times. It'll be fine. I could drive into town and get something else if you're uncomfortable-"
"No," I stop him, my cheeks warming at the idea of the fuss or seeming like a princess not happy with the situation. "It's fine. It's...cosy."
Harry chuckles under his breath, bumping me with an elbow.
"I don't snore, you'll be fine," he says. "I on the other hand, will have to listen to you muttering all night."
"I do not talk in my sleep!" I retort.
"How would you even know!" He teases. "When I stayed at yours you were rambling on for hours."
I slap his shoulder playfully, but quickly freeze up when Sarah grins at the two of us.
"When was this little sleepover then?"
Harry's cheeks flush red, though I can't tell if it's because he's admitting that we shared a bed at one point or that he didn't want to have to divulge the details of exactly why: the fact that I'd drunken myself to the point of not being able to hold my body upright and he was too afraid to leave me on my own.
We share a look, neither of us sure of how to explain ourselves without making the situation awkward, but luckily Lucy comes to the rescue.
"She stayed at my mums once, swear she was reciting the entirety of War and Peace."
I scoff, but secretly send her a look of thanks.
"Okay, stop picking on me. What do we do now?"
***
Three hours later and I can't breathe.
"How are they so fucking fast," Krish gasps next to me, fanning himself off with a clammy hand, his face awash with a glean of sweat.
We're lagging at the back of the group, Krish and I, having spent most of the afternoon rambling - or in my case, scrambling - up what I'm told is a hill. I swear it's a mountain, I've seen rocks bigger than Harry's van and the air definitely feels thinner up here.
"I don't know," I pant back with a head shake, passing Krish my water bottle which he takes gratefully. I look ahead to where Sarah and Mitch are looking out at the Valley, pointing at something in the distance, Harry and Lucy are still storming ahead like a couple of hobbits on a mission.
Harry had started off walking with me, but when I noticed he was massively slowing his pace I insisted he went and joined the others at the front.
"They're a real pair, aren't they," Krish puffs as he lifts himself from the rock he'd rested on with a groan.
I look back to Harry and Lucy off in the distance, two little figures that I could pinch between my thumb and forefinger if I lifted my hand. They've stopped now, similar to Sarah and Mitch, gazing out at the stretch of rolling green hills. Harry's grinning down at her, and my stomach twists sharply. I grimace at the reaction, willing it away but it's stubborn.
I don't respond to Krish, just pull him along by his sweaty arm as we do our best to try to catch up. I hear a fit of light laughter ahead that I know is Lucy's, and that heavy sticky feeling that has my clutch on Krish's arm tightening grows.
"Do you like him?"
My eyes widen, gawping at Krish who's watching the pair leading our pack. I dare to peer at them again, and at the same time Harry turns to spot the two of us. He raises his hand in a small wave, which I return with my own and a tight lipped smile. I wait until he and Lucy set off walking again before I respond.
"He's my best friend," I tell him.
"That's not what I asked."
I groan, pretending it's from the burn in my calves and tightness in my lungs but Krish chuckles, blowing my cover.
"I'll take that as a yes then. Does he know?"
"I never said yes," I retort but he only brushes me off with an eye roll.
I watch the back of Harry's head, his soft curls held back with a tiny claw clip he'd stolen from my bag this morning. I take note of the dark circle of sweat that has gathered on his yellow T-shirt; the same one he was wearing when I saw him singing at that bar. That all seemed so long ago. Time seemed to work strangely when it came to Harry and I's friendship. Things from ten years ago could ring fresh in my mind, yet the animosity that existed between us upon meeting again all these years later felt like age old history.
"He's my best friend," I repeat.
"But..." Krish presses on.
I sigh. "I think it's just hormones, or pheromones or something. When I last saw him we were just a couple of gangly kids. And now..."
"Now he's incredibly attractive?" Krish grins.
I can't help but let my mouth tug into a smile, shaking my head.
"I guess so. That's all it is though."
Krish hums, and I think he's dropped the subject whilst we help each other clamber over a cluster of slippery rocks that are blanketed in thick green moss, but once we're over he clears his throat.
"What about him, though?"
I furrow my brow. "What about him?"
"Harry. Do you think he could have feelings for you?"
I snort, expressing just how absurd a thought like that could be.
"Absolutely not."
"Why?"
I hear myself laugh, slightly forced and strangled. I expected this sort of conversation from Sarah, and in fact have had many with Lucy regarding the nature of Harry and I's relationship, but neither of them had ever suggested that Harry could be the one with any sort of non-platonic feelings.
"Because," I lift my arms and let them slap down to my sides as if searching for an answer. "That's just ridiculous."
"Riley. I'm as gay as they come, and even I can see how Harry could fancy you. You guys have some serious chemistry. There's nothing ridiculous about it."
I shake my head in refute. "We have a lot of history. He knows everything about me. I think you're reading it all wrong."
I hear him sigh softly beside me. "If you say so. But I know men and I know how to read them. Maybe you just don't want to see it."
With that Krish slumps himself on the ground, calling out to the group that he needs a break. I decide to carry on ahead to catch up with the others.
Lucy is chuckling to herself as we pass each other on the grassy path, on her way to try and motivate Krish up to the peak.
"You good?" Harry slings an arm over my shoulders when I get to where he's waiting. His body is warm and humid against mine, but I don't pull away. Instead I swing my arm around his back.
"Mhmm. Sorry I'm no good at this stuff. Rubbish travel buddy and now rubbish hiker."
He laughs, pulling us further along the trail. "You're not rubbish, and even if you were I'm just happy you're here."
"Yeah?"
We pause by a section of weather damaged fencing, where the grass has grown wild either side of the trail, almost reaching our knees.
"Yeah."
I watch him as we take a rest, he's glancing down at the drop on the other side of the fence. Soft gusts of wind blow the curls around his ears. He peers down at me with a squinted eye from the sun and I'm pathetically unable to stop smiling up at him.
"Who'd have thought we'd be here," I say. "Me on a camping trip with you and your mates."
"Our mates," he corrects. I still see him out of the corner of my eye watching me, but I'm focused on a flock of sheep ambling across a far off peak. "And I always hoped we'd find our way here somehow."
"On the side of a mountain?"
"A hill," he laughs. "But no. Like here. Friends."
"Really? I thought you hated me when you started at the market."
He rolls his eyes. "Definitely didn't hate you."
I scoff in response, recalling all of the glares and harsh words we shared. How on that first day he said we should stay away from one another.
"It just all felt a bit intense, seeing you again after so long. It brought up a lot of stuff I'd not thought about for years, and I didn't exactly react maturely," he begins to explain quietly, as if he's trying to piece together his thoughts as he talks. "I know I was a total arse. I'm stubborn I guess."
"Not how I'd describe you."
Harry scratches his chin. "I definitely am stubborn, but I'm intrigued to know how you would describe me."
"Your head is big enough," I shake my head, grinning when I hear him chuckle. I focus on those sheep, on the feel of the sun on my shoulders, the tussle of the grass brushing in the wind. My mind drifts, wondering how I would describe who Harry is to me. "Your just kind," I say lowly. "Just unrelentingly caring to everyone. I've always admired you for it."
"I'll remind you again of what an arse I was to you only a month ago."
I shake my head in disagreement. "You weren't though - not really. You checked in with me when I had that incredibly embarrassing breakdown that first day. You drove me home when Kyle was being a prick at the bar. You forgave me. You're a good person Harry, through and through. I want to be like you when I grow up."
Have blows a puff of air from his mouth, pinching the bridge of his nose between his eyes perhaps in attempt to shield away his expression.
It takes a moment, a moment where we both avert our sights to our surroundings, but eventually he thanks me.
With that the sounds of Krish's laboured breathing and the encouraging cheers of our friends forces us to carry on the ascent. Harry stays by my side this time and I let him.
"Fuck me," Krish gasps, his thick black curls drenched and his face glittering in sweat as he collapses dramatically to the ground. His chest heaves as he lays on his back, arms and legs spread like a starfish. "You guys are sadists. That was not fun."
"Stand up and look though!" Lucy beams, wiping her own damp forehead. She stands with her hands on her hips as though she'd just tackled Everest - in all honesty, it felt like we had. My legs were burning.
But she was right, what she'd said earlier. The air in my lungs felt earned, and my eyes watered as I ventured my gaze out at the view surrounding us.
It felt like were at the top of the world - stretches upon stretches of those beautiful hills and valleys rolling as far as we could see. I could spot the tips of the trees of the forest to the west, a waterfall foaming between rocks to the north. The sky was as wide and blue as I'd ever seen it, and I'd happily let it swallow me up, stay here for eternity if it'd have me.
"Good, yeah?" Harry's says in my ear but I don't respond, just look at him slack jawed before I have to take another look.
Our group is silent - apart from the odd pant and moan from Krish who is refusing to get up from his spot on the floor - as we simply allow this moment to be what it needs to be.
Eventually I hear Lucy talking quietly - because it wouldn't seem appropriate for our surroundings to be anything but gentle - to Sarah and Mitch somewhere behind me.
"Come on," Harry tugs the belt loop of my shorts, and I follow him to where he sits down on the grass. I join him, bringing my knees to my chest.
He share water from his flask, I watch him dry his lips on the back of his hand.
I quickly find myself no longer lost in our surroundings, but instead in studying his profile. The scruff on his sharp jaw, the soft creases by his eyes, the pinkness in his cheeks. The sun lights him from his other side, a golden glow just gracing his profile.
"You staring again, Freak?" He whispers, repeating the words he'd used on the beach on our day in Brighton.
"Mhmm," I hum in admittance, because it's futile lying.
He turns and an almost dizziness spins me when he glances down, his green eyes as bright as I've ever seen them.
"Can I stare back, then?"
I shrug, attempting nonchalance but the quickening of my pulse betrays me. "Suppose so."
He's unrelenting with the way he watches me, no mercy with how his eyes scan every inch of me. At first he seems to study my hair - chestnut and boring and likely verging on frizzy after todays exertions. Then down to flicker across my eyes, my cheeks, perhaps my nose. Then my lips.
I swallow harshly, my instinct telling me to pull away, avoid whatever it is my mind is fooling me is happening. But I don't. I let him stare, let his eyes linger on my lips. Even when they part to have to let out the expanse of air that is hurriedly escaping me, he keeps his eyes fixated there.
All of my knowledge garnered from teen magazines and coming of age movies tells me that when someone looks at your mouth, they want to kiss you. And I can't help but let my mind take me to a place where I wonder what kissing Harry would feel like.
Would his lips feel soft and supple. Would they move firmly or gently, would his hand cup my jaw or snake into my hair.
I feel as though I'm betraying my own mind - because of course I've thought of kissing Harry before. As teenagers I'd laid in bed many nights, wondering what would happen if I just leant across the cab of his van and pecked his lips.
What if one of our break times hidden in the art supply cupboard turned into more. What if he held me, touched me.
But I'd spent so long suppressing that I'd ever even considered such a thing. When Harry had come back into my life this time, I think I subconsciously told myself that I wouldn't let it happen again. Despite my bodily reactions, despite the way my stomach flipped every time I saw him - and it was every single time. I brushed it off. It was nothing. This feeling would pass.
And yet it seemed foolish to even to attempt to ignore it now. He was so close I could smell his shampoo, could see every minuscule glimmer of perspiration on his face, could see the softness of his lips.
It would be pathetic to even pretend I didn't want to kiss him. That I wasn't aching for him to kiss me.
I see his brows pinch together, that deep crevice between them appearing and his eyes venture back up to my own. He gives me a look that I can't decipher; it almost verges on frustration, though I'm not sure what I could have done to garner such an expression.
I want to say something though I'm not sure how or what. My mouth feels dry, I quickly lick my lips but it only causes Harry's eyes to dart south again. My words become lost, I can only watch and wonder - if only briefly - if he could have been thinking the same thoughts I had.
"Snuggle up you two, I want to get a picture!"
We both jolt at the sound of Sarah's raspy voice in front of us, where she's knelt with her phone held up in front of her.
Harry breaths out a laugh, one sounding laced with relief, before he pulls me into his side with his arm wrapped around my shoulder once more.
I smile, a full and honest smile as I look into the camera, before Sarah is ambling off once more, her own grin in place as she eyes the photo she'd just snapped.
"Sah!" Harry calls back to her. "Send that to me?"
Sarah eyes the two of us, positively beaming, but instead of some silly little comment she just nods before walking away.
"Don't think we have a single picture together, even knowing each other all this time," Harry says as he looks back to me, his arm still cradling me close.
"You're forgetting the ten year interlude," I point out. "And I actually do have a photo of you somewhere."
"You do? From when?"
I avert my eyes to the view around us, feeling slightly embarrassed at my confession.
"Took one of you in the van years ago. Think it's probably tucked away in an album somewhere."
Harry chuckles. "So not only do you have a photo of me, you went to the lengths to print it out?"
"Shut up."
"It's cute," he says, but I ignore him. We sit like that for a moment, quiet, taking in our dreamlike surroundings, before Harry is shifting about beside me, pulling something out of his pocket.
His scratched up old phone.
"You need to replace that," I point out, watching him swipe up on his screen.
"It works. Held together by tape, but it's just fine. Come here."
Harry is pulling me in close, holding his phone out in his hand.
"Sarah just took one!" I point out with a smile.
"So? I want one that I took, seeing as you snuck one of me."
I huff, pretending to disapprove, but I face his phone anyway. He's taking it with the front facing part, so that I can see ourselves reflected back.
I'm shocked at the sight.
Both of us flush, slightly red from the sun that we'd been under all day. My hair is in fact a frizzy mess in the bun I'd secured it in this morning, but Harry's was a wild mess of curls as well. We're so close, cheeks almost pressed together.
But the thing that shocks me the most is our smiles. Each as bright as the others.
"You going to take the picture, or just stare at yourself, Styles?" I ask when he's yet to press the button.
"Just getting a good look," he whispers in my ear. "Making sure I look pretty."
I snicker. "You do."
And with that, the shutter sound goes off on the camera and Harry is bringing his phone to us so we can both take a look. I'm studying the fine creases by his eyes and the fresh freckles on my cheeks when he whispers to me again.
"You think I'm pretty, huh?"
I flick my eyes up to him, seeing his smug expression.
"Maybe."
"Maybe?"
I hand him his phone back and straighten up, letting the cool gust of air brush around my shoulders now that Harry has retracted the warmth of his arm.
"You know you're pretty," I tell him. "Don't pretend to be humble."
Harry tucks his legs up to his chest, his elbow bumping my arm.
"You know I think that you're pretty too, don't you?"
My face drops at his words, and I feel my brows pinch up. He's already watching me - always is when he says something I find uncomfortable to hear.
"Whatever," I roll my eyes.
"I'm serious. I've always thought you were."
Something heavy is tugging at my chest, too tight. I've never taken compliments well. Especially ones like that from someone like Harry.
"The air must be really thin up here."
"Hey," Harry's hand lands on my knee, his tone suddenly serious. I'm reluctant to keep eye contact, but he has a pull to him to forces me to anyway. "I'm not joking. You're beautiful, Riley."
I gulp.
It's just a word, a silly little word. Friends tell each other they're beautiful all the time. He's probably said it to Sarah a bunch of times, so there's no need for me to read any more into it.
You can be seen as beautiful without being wanted. And I doubt for a second that Harry wanted me in that sort of way. The way that had my muscles clenching and stomach burning whenever Harry touched me.
I want to brush him off again, tell him to take those words back.
But this was all part of letting people in. That's what Linda said. So instead, I thank him. And it's worth it because it earns me one of my favourite Harry smiles.
***
"Thank god for Riley," Sarah praises, a mouth full of one of the chocolate cupcakes I'd baked for us all. "This is heaven-sent."
Our group hum in agreement, all busying themselves with dessert after an amazing campfire-cooked curry Krish had prepared for us all. The boy can't hike, but he can cook.
The sun had set, and we were gathered around the fire that the boys - very primal in nature - had insisted they light. The air smelled of charred wood, it crackled around us and warmed us with a hot orange glow that cast long shadows along the tents around us.
We sat in a circle like that, all pared up; Mitch and Sarah, Lucy and Krish, then Harry and I.
"And now that the food has been eaten," Mitch calls out to us all, pulling a couple of bottles out of a bag. "We drink!"
Something funny happens inside me. Once, the sight of a bottle of wine would have flooded me with a sense of comfort and relief. Now it had me tensing up, from my taught shoulders to the curl of my toes.
"Mitch!" I hear Harry hiss somewhere beside me.
I don't look up at anyone, a silence having fallen over us all.
"Oh - oh, shit, sorry! I didn't think..." Mitch is apologising, and the longer it goes on, the more embarrassed I feel.
"It's fine," I put up a hand, stopping his scrambling. "Really. You guys can drink. I'll be fine."
"Riley," Harry whispers in my ear in warning.
"Really," I smile to everyone. "It's not like I'm itching for it or anything. Just best I don't have any, but please. Everyone go ahead."
After a few more moments of my insisting, Mitch hands out cups of wine to everyone, apart from Harry who declines.
"You can drink, Harry," I tell him.
"I'm good," he shrugs me off. "Best to keep our whits about us with this lot out in the woods anyway. Sure they'll need the both of us looking after them later."
I smile appreciatively, because I knew full well that if I weren't part of the equation, Harry would have indulged in a drink.
"I did, however, bring this. If you'd care to join me?"
Harry pulls out a pre rolled joint from the top pocket of his shirt and I snort with laughter at his boyish grin. But I nod all the same.
He lights the joint, taking a long drag before passing it over to me.
"I bet you were such a stoner at Uni," I shake my head as I pull in my own lungful.
"Oh he totally was," Mitch affirms from where he sits across from us. "Our flat stunk. Surprised we didn't get kicked out."
"You guys lived together at Uni? Is that how you met?" I ask, my interest absolutely peaking at any morsel of the ten year gap in Harry's life I could tune into.
"No, we've known each other since school."
I pause, looking to Harry who's sporting an awkward expression, chewing his lip and averting his eyes.
Mitch had known Harry since school.
Since school.
Mitch knows.
And the way Harry solemnly meets my eye, just confirms the fact. That Mitch knows what I did to Harry.