A/N - while editing this chapter I opened up my "detail bible" and remembered that I made the decision that Alice is going to be taking college courses, but not fully going away or being a full time student. Of course I realized this 8 hours after I had posted that chapter where she says she's never going to college. I went back and changed it, but for the few of you who read it before I did, I wanted to slip this little author's note in so you wouldn't be terribly confused. Thank you.
♡♡♡
And I've been thinking
Can we be alone?
Can we be alone?
When will we get the time to be just friends
♡♡♡
Alice's P.O.V.
September 8th 1997
Harry Styles is everything I have ever wanted in the world. And he was on the phone with me.
"Hello?"
"Hey. It's me."
"Harry?" I ask softly. It was about 11:30pm and my dad was asleep. I couldn't afford to wake him up. Especially because I was up talking to a boy. Harry's no ordinary boy though.
"You got other guys calling you this late at night?"
"And if I did?" My stomach was doing cartwheels. Why was he calling me? I know I gave him my number but I wasn't expecting him to call this soon, or like at all. Is he flirting with me? What. Is. Happening.
"Can't say I wouldn't be a little jealous. I'm a little hurt that you didn't look me up when you got back into town."
My head is spinning in circles and those circles are spinning and circles, like those carnival rides my parents never let me go on. I'm shocked at this confession. I didn't think he'd even remember me, let alone wish I had contacted.
A memory of the last night I saw him flashes through my mind and burns in the pit of my stomach. He certainly didn't remember me that night. Not that it mattered. Harry still had a huge place in my heart, and he always will. Maybe it's my imagination, but none of the boys I met in Europe ever compared. My friends would try to push me to go out and party with them. And I did sometimes, but every time I tried to go after a boy, I would think of Harry, here in America and get sad. I knew he wasn't waiting for me, and maybe that made me pathetic, but my heart had attached itself to him, and that wasn't something I could easily give up.
Who am I kidding? I know Harry better than he thinks, mostly because I have spent most of my life thinking about him. And, in the least creepy way possible, observing him. He puts up this tough persona, trying to get people to think he doesn't care about anyone. My own father told me to stay away from him because he heard through the grapevine that Harry was, "a playboy." But I knew that wasn't true.
Other than the incident that pulled me away from him, I know Harry is sweeter than pie. My father swore that moving to Europe had nothing to do with what happened that night, but my heart knew it did. I don't think my mother ever forgave me.
It was a misunderstanding, and I don't even know if Harry remembers what happened. I couldn't blame him. Even if I found out that Harry was the one who paid my father to move us across the world, I still wouldn't blame him. He's too good for all this, but so guarded. I wish he would open up to me.
"Is that why you called me? Hoping I would come over so we could fool around?" I had to tease him, pretend I was braver than I was. Anything to make him see me as an equal and not the pigtailed little girl that used to follow him like a shadow. I was making assumptions about this call, but what other reason did he have? I had been fantasizing about a person I had completely made up in my head. He'd never be the person I wanted him to be.
Why did I even give him my number in the first place? Did I think he was going to call and ask me to dinner? Or a movie? The guy clearly only wants one thing. One thing I am not sure I am ready to give him. And all I really needed was an ally.
Now that I was back, we were going to be seeing each other all the time. He was going to be in my life for a long time. But I don't just want to be running in the same circles. I want to be the one standing next to him with his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me close to him. I want businessmen to find me attractive and have Harry get all possessive. But those are the fantasies that have played in my head. I still wanted Harry. But I didn't want to be a doting wife. If I was going to work for my father, I was going to work harder than I ever had. I want my father's company. I want to make him proud.
Is it so terrible that I also wanted Harry by my side?
I could convince myself I knew Harry until the cows came home, but at the end of the day, all I had was my theories, faded observations, and the fantasy I created in my head since the day I met him.
I went to school, crafting the perfect boyfriend in my mind, and shamelessly envisioned his face. Harry, in my mind, was the type of boyfriend who would hold your hold and kiss your cheek in public just to remind you that he cared. The type of boyfriend who would make you laugh, even when you didn't want to, just to see you smile. The type of boyfriend who didn't have to be told to play with your hair or pull you close when you cuddle.
From across the room he looked like the perfect charming man. I wanted to go to carnivals where he won me stuffed animals, and kiss in the rain, and all of the other disgustingly cheesy things that you see in movies. All the things we were denied of in our childhood in favor of going to events to play show pony for our parents. Swimming, pillow fights, staying up late with friends. Not business partners.
No, Harry could never be that person. But maybe if I was lucky, I could have my friend back.
I had school friends growing up. I got to go on play dates sometimes, depending on who the family was, and I bonded with the girls I went to school with. But I couldn't deny the way I got excited about going to those boring events, because it meant I got a glimpse of Harry. He always made me smile, and did his best to entertain me whenever we got left by our parents. I may have only gotten to see him once or twice a year, but Harry wasn't just my friend, he was my hero.
Until that night, at least.
Don't even get me started on the last few years when I saw him. My body had just learned the term horny and there was a cute older boy who gave me his attention? It was game over for my heart. I don't know when exactly my feelings started to develop for him. Obviously, I didn't know what love was at 4 years old. But when I learned what a crush was, the only name that came to mind was Harry's and apparently I'm still holding on to it.
Now there is this new dynamic between us and I'm not sure how to navigate it. Maybe it's the five years of distance that has turned us into completely different people than the ones we used to be. We're not who we used to be, but I still get the feeling he is putting up a front. A wall that I so desperately want to knock down. I know, I know. Typical girl, thinking she can fix a broken man.
But like I said, there is something about him that makes me want to push him and push him until neither of us can take it and we are making out with passion and ferocity. What? I never said that horny girl went away. Didn't you hear the part about me denying every cute European boy I came across?
The only times I have gotten to talk to him were at the banquet dinner and at his house. Both places had the looming presence of his Mother knocking him down. That woman is the cause of all things bad inside him. You can see it in the way he snaps when she is brought up, or the way he reacts whenever she speaks. I don't think she ever laid a hand on him, but psychologically the woman has her kids seriously messed up.
"No, actually," Harry pulls me out of my thoughts. My eyes went wide and my neck jutted forward in shock as if he could actually see my face.
"Oh," I whisper.
"Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to chill some time?"
I'm sorry what? Was I sleeping? Am I dreaming? I feel like my stomach is filled with bees and they are getting ready to sting me.
"Alice? Get lost in Wonderland?"
"Oh um, no I'm here. You want to take me out on a date?"
"More like a hang out, but yeah I guess you could call it a date."
God, I'm such an idiot.
"What's the catch?" I ask, trying to bring back a feeling of playfulness.
"No catch. In fact, I am hurt that you would think such a thing."
"Just trying to make sure."
"I'll pick you up. Friday at 8," he rushes out like he can't wait to get off the phone. Before I can say anything the line goes dead. Friday at 8? It's a date.
My room was dark, other than the moon shining through my open window and the glow in the dark stars that I can't be bothered to take off my ceiling. I looked over to where my dog was sitting on her bed.
"Geri, you heard that too? Like that happened." Her little head tilted.
There's always the chance that he'll stand me up. Or maybe I'm dreaming. Still I couldn't help myself from flipping over on my bed, shoving my face into a pillow and squealing like a little girl. I kicked my legs in the air because I couldn't contain it.
Is it going to be the worst date of my life? Possibly. But considering it's my first date ever, it'll also be the best.
It took me longer than usual to fall asleep that night. My mind was running wild with all the possibilities of where he is going to take me. Will he hold my hand? Kiss me goodnight? Yeah my expectations are way too high.
Harry Styles was taking me on a date. Even that sentence felt like I was teasing fate.
♡♡♡
September 12th 1997
After three hours of emptying my closet in an attempt to find something to wear, I decided on a lavender tee shirt with a daisy on it and a black slip dress over it. I put on my white canvas shoes and headed down stairs.
This was the moment I was dreading - trying to sneak past my parents. I probably could have left without either of my parents noticing, but if one of them did notice I would come home to 100 police cars in my driveway. I could also lie and say I was going to my friend, Maddie's, but I wouldn't put it past my father to call and check. Plus Maddie can't drive and Harry is picking me up.
I walked closer to my dad's office and I heard the most strange sound. A sound I don't think I have ever heard in this house. Laughter.
I opened my father's office door, and to my shock Harry was sitting opposite of him. My stomach dropped. Harry was early and I wasn't ready to see him.
"Alice, why didn't you tell me Harry was coming to pick you up?" My father asked me. And even though I knew I was going to hear about it later, he didn't seem all that mad.
"Yes Alice, why didn't you tell your father? Not trying to keep me a secret are you?" Harry interlocks his fingers over his knee.
"Not at all, I was just coming down to tell my father that you were on your way. Seems that you beat me to it."
"Yes, it seems so." He looks between my father and I. "Well, Brian it was lovely catching up. If it is alright with you I am going to borrow your lovely daughter for the evening, and don't worry I will have her back before 11."
Who the hell is this talking to my father? Businessman Harry. That's who.
"Have fun you two," My father said as we made our way out of his office and eventually out the front door to Harry's car.
I looked at Harry like he was a science project I couldn't explain.
"Something wrong, Ally Girl?" He asked smugly while starting the car.
"You just confuse me so much." I think out loud.
"Oh yeah? Talk to me. What do you think about me?" He pulls out of my driveway and onto the road.
"You're different than I remember. You're not exactly the boy I grew up with."
He smiles. It's an easy smile. One I haven't seen him wear in a very long time.
"You're not exactly the little girl I grew up with either."
I shrug and stare out the window. "A lot can change in five years."
"A lot can change in five days," he whispers.
"What does that mean?"
He brushes it off and turns up the radio slightly. "Nothing. Just something a friend said once." The car is quiet for a moment, some one-hit wonder boyband played on the radio. After the song ended, Harry spoke with up. "So, what's the deal with college?"
"That was random."
"Not really. We're catching up, getting to know each other. College seems like a sensitive topic and I want to know why."
Sensitive is one word for it. Thinking about going off to college, or rather, the fact that I'm not and all my friends will be, makes me want to cry. I convey as much as I can to Harry without going into the amount of detail that will trigger the waterworks. I give the answers that I normally tell people, but a little more. Instead of saying, it's what my dad thinks is best, I add in that he thinks this way because he's scared to be alone. My mother isn't in the best shape, and hasn't been for years. He doesn't know that I realize it, but he's grasping onto me like a lifeline. The way dad's eyes flit across the room to my mother whenever he mentions the rowdiness of college, I know what he is really saying is that he doesn't want me to turn out like her.
My dad is no saint. He drinks, just in moderation. He goes out, but he always comes home. The same can't be said about my mother. And while I don't tell Harry all of this, he knew my mother growing up. Maybe not closely, but the parties where we saw each other, she was always in attendance and at her worst. So when I allude to the fact that my dad is holding my back (literally) from college, Harry's smart enough to put together the situation is a lot more complicated than it appears, and has a lot to do with my mother's behavior.
Harry takes it all in stride, digesting the information to ponder over later, and swiftly moves topics to bring some much needed brevity. "It's funny, you've grown and become this young woman, but your dad still looks the exact same."
I smiled at that. Kinda like Steve Martin, my dad has had white hair since I was little, always making him look older than he was. He's reaping the benefits now, because as his colleagues all get older, his looks tend to stay the same.
"I think the European air did him some good."
He looks at me from the side of his eye. "He's not the only one."
My stomach swirls like I'm upside down on a rollercoaster. "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Flirt. Especially when you don't mean it. It feels like you're making fun of me."
The car slows down and I can't tell if it's from the stop light or his general mode. "I'd never make fun of you. You may not see it, but you are a fascinating person. You're not like any girl I've met."
The compliment washes over me like flames on my skin. I do my best to cover up my reaction by pretending to be disgusted. If any other guy said that to me, I'd groan and roll my eyes. And that's exactly what I do.
"Oh my god, you did not just say that." I looked out my window to watch the houses pass by.
"What?" He asks, shocked at my response. "It's a compliment."
I cross my arms over my chest. "No. No it is not."
"And why not?"
"I find 'Not like any girl you've met' gross and misogynistic. It implies that every other girl you've met, every human you've come in contact with that is a woman, wasn't special or interesting. And I get that not every person you meet is going to turn your life upside down, but neither am I. I'm just a girl, and any uniqueness you put on me is just that, you putting it on me. I'm not that special, but I also think that everyone you meet has the potential to be fascinating and interesting, you just have to be willing to look."
"You got me there, Ally Girl. Allow me to be more specific. I think you're wise beyond your years. You've always been more mature than you should be, but that's because of the lives we lead. But you take it in stride. You thrive when so many would crumble, and I'm thoroughly impressed by you."
Woah. If middle school Alice could hear that she'd flip out. Who am I kidding? 18 year old Alice is freaking the heck out. I swallow down my giddiness and focus in on the one thing that drives me crazy.
"I hate being called Ally Girl. Haven't heard it in years. I haven't been that girl in years. Can't help but wonder if you call me it to remind me of that little girl. I'm not that girl. Not anymore."
Understanding came over his face. Or empathy, more likely because I'm not sure he could actually comprehend what happened over there.
"I really didn't think that far into it," He says softly.
My lip quirk up. "I don't think you've thought a lot about me for a while. Not that I blame you."
He laughs lightly. "You don't know what I have and haven't thought about in five years. But no matter what, you are special. Just because everyone is different doesn't mean that you are any less unique. You're not replaceable. Don't let anyone tell you differently, Wonderland."
My eyes go wide. Hundreds of memories flash before my eyes. "Wonderland?"
"Yeah, you know, like Alice in Wonderland? You've got the blonde hair and the curiosity to match. Is it still your favorite movie?"
He remembers that?
"Most of my friends call me Ally, but I guess I'll take it."
He pulls into the movie theater parking lot and turns off the car. "Well, I'm not just another friend. Now come on, let's go see this awful horror movie so you can hide in my arms. I'll buy you whatever candy you want."
I smiled as I finally got out of the car. His arm wrapped around my shoulder as he pulled me into his side. I may go toe to toe with him, but things like this made a blush rise on my cheeks.
I am sure he picked going to a movie so that we wouldn't have to talk that much, which I was grateful for. The movie wasn't scary at all but I decided to play into it.
The ride home was pretty silent other than some basic small talk about the movie. The only weird part was when he changed the radio station when some Billy Joel song came on. He was visibly tense for a while but it eventually faded.
He walked me to the door, and kissed me on the cheek with a "Goodnight, Wonderland."
I practically ran up to my room so I could jump around. It's not like it was the greatest date ever, but it definitely blew my expectations out of the water. My fingers delicately touched my cheek.
He kissed me.
September 16th 1997
I walked into the business dinner behind my parents like the good little show dog I was. This one wasn't nearly as extravagant as the last one, and was only about half the people. Still, the cocktail of different perfumes and colognes made me want to puke.
My dad was quickly roped into a business conversation with one of his main suppliers that is looking to expand. I turned around to follow my mother, but she was already on her way toward the bar. I was itching to go with her but I had to stay on my game. The bartenders at these events didn't ID because it took too much time and why would anyone under 21 want to be here anyway?
I stood next to my father with my hands folded silently listening.They were going back and forth about random numbers and new supplies coming in. Usually I was completely tuned into the conversation, trying to absorb everything as if my father would quiz me when we got home. He probably would tomorrow morning.
I couldn't focus because my eyes were wandering around the room looking for him. I know it wasn't guaranteed that he would be here, but he didn't say that he wouldn't be here, and yeah I am a little pathetic.
Thinking back to the other night my head feels like it was full of fireflies. I had a really good time, but he hasn't called me since. Was I supposed to call him? I didn't want to look desperate, but I was definitely feeling it.
I made my way to the table that we were supposed to be sitting at. My mother was already there, sipping on her second martini. She was shamelessly flirting with one of the businessmen whose wife had passed away only a few months ago.
Real classy Kathleen.
I went and sat next to her and she immediately pulled away from him. I sat down with my back to the corner of the room so I could look around. After about fifteen minutes the businessman that my mom was shamelessly trying to sleep with in front of me left and she was up to go get another drink. Usually I'd get upset, but tonight I don't blame her.
My eyes were moving from suit to suit, trying to find one that stood out just a little. One that wasn't completely black or navy blue. Something with a fun pattern or an extra sparkle to it, like a patterned dress shirt. I spotted Mrs. Styles, working the room like she owned it, as always. I straightened my back and craned my neck slightly to try to look for Harry. He had to be close by.
"Who are you looking for?" a voice whispered between me. It scared me so much I jumped and held my hand to my heart. Harry walked from behind my chair to the one right next to me. He sat down easily, crossing his ankle over his knee and leaning back with a smug look on his face.
"No one." I gritted through my teeth before fixing my dress and fidgeting with the jewelry around my wrists and neck.
"It's okay Wonderland, you can say you missed me."
I rolled my eyes. You would love that wouldn't you? Tell me, has your ego gotten so big that they're considering it your plus one?"
He leans forward, tightening the space between us. "Depends, would you be jealous?"
I shook my head and turned my body back towards the room, continuing my fake search, pretending like my target wasn't sitting right next to me. He pushed his glass of amber liquid toward me. I raise my eyebrows at him in question.
"You look like you need it."
I sighed out of my nose. "That is a polite way of saying I look miserable."
"Hey, I am trying to be civil."
I look at him as if to ask, that's what we're calling this? I take the glass off the table and take the tiniest sip. My face pinches together and I drink one of the glasses of water on the table. He was snickering to himself as I tried to get the taste out of my mouth.
"How the hell do you drink that?" I asked.
"Like this," he tilted the glass back and drank the remainder of the liquid. I watched as he tossed back the drink effortlessly. His tongue licked the excess liquid off his lips.
"I'm shocked, I thought Miss Popular would be able to hold her alcohol."
My eyes squinted at him. "What gives you that impression? And who said I was Miss Popular?"
"Just an assumption. I can't imagine you as some sort of social outcast. You're pretty and smart. Quick-witted. In theory, you should be at the top of the social pyramid. Meaning, that you are also at every party attached to the hip of whoever scored the last touchdown of the game."
"Oh my god," I couldn't contain my laughter.
"What? Am I wrong? You haven't mentioned a boyfriend, but it would make sense. I'm picturing some sleeze named Chad or Thad or Brad. Head quarterback. Drags you around to parties after the games. Wears you like a trophy."
I narrow my eyes at him. "I think I get enough of that from my parents. I don't make a habit of proving Freud right."
He laughs, "See! That right there. That wit. "You're telling me you don't have the whole school wrapped around your finger?"
I relaxed my shoulders and thought of my school. "Maybe in another life. But not the academy. We don't really have 'cliques'. I mean there are different friend groups, but it's not like any one group is more popular than the other. I have my friends, and I am friendly with pretty much everyone. I'm a bit of a teacher's pet, I will admit, but it comes in handy when 200 girls are ranked against each other and everyone is separated by 0.001%. There's no time for mean girls when your real competition is the person to your right the entire time. Sorry, if I'm boring you. I'm sure you heard all this from your sisters."
He shook his head. "No, that's intense. It's like the Roman Colosseum in plaid skirts. Speaking of which any chance I could see-"
"No you perv," I pushed his shoulder with a laugh. Banter wasn't really a thing we had growing up, but I have to say, I like it. I still get anxious thinking that his flirting is secretly him making fun of me. It seems too good to be true.
"So two hundred girls clawing for the top spot. Do I dare ask where you rank?"
I look down at my lap, twisting the rings around my fingers. "Last I checked I was in the top ten."
He slaps his hand down on the table. "Well that just calls for a drink. I will run and grab you something super fruity and girly and be right back."
"I really don't need-"
"Shh you're fine."
I watched as Harry disappeared into the crowd. He has this magical power that every time he walks away I feel like my brain finally finds a channel. Like when he is in front of me, it's like your TV is on a different mode so you can watch a DVD, but the DVD player isn't on so it's just static and green lines. But then he leaves and the DVD player gets turned on and everything comes back. I become aware of the people in the room that I had seemingly forgot about before.
I make eye contact with my father across the room who is giving me a curious look. I smile and nod my head to signal that I was okay. He was hesitant about Harry ever since that first dinner, but he really impressed him the night he picked me up.
Harry returned to the table and placed a drink in front of me that was light pink and had a strawberry on the rim.
"What is this?"
"I don't really know. I asked the bartender to give me something pink for the pretty girl I'm trying to woo and he gave me this."
"You're trying to woo me?" I raise the glass up to my lips and take a small sip from the straw.
"Yup. How am I doing so far?"
I sucked down the rest of the yummy drink in my hands. "Well enough that if you ask whether or not I want to get out of here, I would probably say yes."
"Oh?" his eyes shot up in surprise. He even let out a little laugh.
I straightened my shoulders. "The way I see it, my father is still talking to the same person he was when he walked in here and he has about four more people to talk to tonight. My mother is god knows where, but she leaves when he does. And your mother is usually the last one here. If we sneak out now, we could go back to my house and have about two hours before any of them notice we are gone."
"Miss van Baker I didn't expect you to be so forward," he sneers at me. He leans in and the spice of his cologne makes my hand spin more than the alcohol ever could.
I place my head on my hand and lean even closer. "Are you complaining?"
"Not at all. Lead the way."
♡♡♡
"Nice place," Harry murmured. I set the alarm as he looked around.
"Thanks," I replied. "It's quiet and eerie. Like a museum at night."
"I like museums," he says as he looks up and around, trying to take it all in.
"Well it's nice to visit museums, but living in one is a whole other thing."
He smiles. "You have a point there."
That is why I am so taken by him. He gets it. Sure most of the other girls in my school have rich parents and feel a little neglected. But in a world where I was taught to be invisible, Harry saw me.
I opened my bedroom door and sat on my bed as Harry followed in behind me. "You're nervous," he states.
I shake my head, "No I am not." But even I didn't believe myself.
A smile comes over his face. "Yes you are," he nods.
A let out a big sigh. "Okay maybe I am." I fiddled with my fingers in my lap.
He walks over to the bed and presses one knee down. He takes my head in his hands and tilts my head up to look at him. "There's nothing to be nervous about. In fact I am probably just as nervous as you."
A little laugh comes out. "Yea, I highly doubt that."
His thumbs start going back and force on my cheeks. "Fine, don't believe me, but I don't really have any reason to lie to you."
I remove his hands from my face and stand up. "Yeah other than getting in my pants." I know it was hypocritical to say considering I was the one that brought him back to my room, but I was panicking and I didn't know why. I was lashing out and I couldn't control it.
"I wish you didn't think so low of me Alice," he says with his voice barely above a whisper.
I cross my arms in front of my chest. "It's not that I think low of you. I've been screwed over in the past."
This intrigues him. "Wanna talk about it?"
I let out a hmph. "Not at all."
"Okay..." he rubs his hands on his thighs. "What do you want to do?"
I go to the other side of my bed and lay down flat. My eyes stare at the ceiling. "I think I want to lay here. And I want you to kiss me."
"Oh I have to kiss you?" He says, almost laughing. He lays down flat next to me.
"Yes, you do." I turn my head to look at him as he shakes his head.
"So demanding and yet you won't be the one to kiss me." He moves closer, almost hovering above me.
"I'm just saying. I am here, on my bed. We're alone. You can stare at my ceiling or you can come kiss me, it's your ch-" He cuts me off by pushing his lips against mine.
I was in complete shock. The moment I have been imagining for years was happening. He had one hand next to my head leaning all his weight on it, while the other hand started moving up and down my side. I didn't know what was happening but my body was involuntarily lifting toward him. A small whimper left my mouth and I felt him smile against me.
He continued to kiss me, eventually licking my bottom lip. My mouth opened for him and our tongues rolled against each other. I lifted one of my hands and pulled him down to keep him to me by the back of his neck. But then out of nowhere he pulled back.
I went to kiss him again but he turned his head slightly. "Alice, wait," he rushed out. My eyebrows pinched together. I could tell something was wrong.
"I'm sorry," he whispered before sitting up and burying his face in his hands.
I'm not. That might've been the best moment of my life. All my best moments included Harry.
"For?" I was trying to figure out what the hell went wrong and if it was something I did. He looked over at me and his shoulders sagged down.
"Don't look at me like that Wonderland, you did nothing wrong. I just - This is so embarrassing." He rubbed his forehead, trying to get rid of whatever headache was coming on and I am sure the alcohol wasn't helping. "I have no reason to feel guilty about kissing you, but I do. Feel guilty, that is. And that's not fair to you. You deserve my full attention and I can't seem to give it."
I sit up and lean against my headboard. "So it's not about me," I question?
"No."
"It's about you," I state, even though it was more of a question of confirmation.
"Pretty much," he nods.
It's silent for a moment before I ask the one question that I can't seem to stop thinking about. "Does it have to do with her?"
His head and body whip around to face me. "Who?"
A smile in hopes that he knows I am not trying to be mean or petty, just understanding. "The redhead in all your paintings."
His eyes shoot open before his eyebrows pinch together to try and figure out how I know about her. "Oh don't look at me like that Harry. I was in your studio once and I saw all the paintings of her. I am not stupid."
I could see the wheels in his head turning as he tried to explain to me whatever relationship he has or had with her. "Her and I- We're not."
I nod my head in understanding. I wish I hadn't opened my mouth but I couldn't stop myself from digging this grave even deeper. "Did you love her?"
"What?" He asks quietly, like he didn't want to answer in case he misheard the question.
"Did you love her?" I repeat.
"Alice, I can't answer that." He shakes his head.
"It's not a hard question Harry. I don't care either way, I'm just curious. Did you love her? Yes or no?"
It's true, I really didn't mind. But I needed to know where he was at mentally with this mystery girl. I figured he would just say yes and we can move on from it. I wouldn't do anything if he was still in love with someone else.
He contemplated his answer for a moment before moving to the top of the bed to sit next to me. He looked up at the old glow in the dark stars on my ceiling as he finally answered. "It is a hard question Alice. You see, it would hurt too much, if I said no. If I looked you in the eyes, and I said no, I didn't love her, that would be a lie. The hypothetical words hurt my tongue, because how could I say that after everything her and I went through? She was my first real friend. But I refuse to look you in the eyes and say yes. I can't say yes. I can't say yes because... because that would mean that I did and I do, and I never told her. That would mean I loved her, and I left her. That would mean I love her, and the first person I told wasn't her. And that's not fair. It's not fair to me, it's not fair to you, and it most certainly isn't fair to her. So I'm sorry Alice but it is a hard question, one I don't think I am equipped to answer."
"That's okay," my head turns to the side and he turns to face me. If that speech didn't already make me cry then I was not ready for the next sentence out of his mouth.
"Doesn't matter though. She doesn't love me."
I pull him into my chest for a quick hug. He tenses up for a moment before his arms wrap around me and hug me back. "I'll be here when you're ready."
"No. That's stupid Alice, don't wait for me."
I shrug my shoulders and wave him off. "I'm not. At least not intentionally. If someone comes along I'll snatch em up. But that's not what I meant. If you want to talk more about it, I'll be here," I say, a bittersweet feeling settling in my stomach. I know that's never going to happen. And now that I've kissed him? No boy will ever exist to me but him.
"What's the matter?" He questions.
"What do you mean?"
"Are you upset with me or something? You're looking like you just found out your cat died."
An airy laugh comes out of my nose. "No, I'm just...taking in the moment. Can I ask you a question?"
He messes with my fingers, absentmindedly holding my hand in the process. "Can't promise I'll answer, but go for it."
I hold his hand. "What was your whisper of happiness today?"
He stops fidgeting and looks up at me with a bright smile. "Spending time with you."
I scoff and pull my hand away. "No fair. That was my answer!" We break out into a fit of giggles, sharing unspoken memories from our past.
Once we settle and stop laughing, Harry slides up and leads on my headboard. "We make a good team, Wonderland."
"Friends," I stick my hand out for him to shake?
"Friends," he shakes my hand.