There isn't much time. In fact, there isn't any time at all. I look down at the brown watch that clings to my small wrist. The thin gold arrow of the long hand nearly points to the twelve, the short hand already reaching tiny seven.
"Oh good gosh almighty," I hear my mother's favorite exasperated phrase in my head as I rush around the room.
My fingers move like lightening as I unfasten the buttons of my house dress and grab a cream colored dress from the dresser. The warm knitted fabric and the slightly longer sleeves will help to keep me warm, especially since my winter coat is downstairs and therefore out of the question.
The neckline of the dress is delicately stitched with tiny, little pearls. It's a simple embellishment, but I love how they swirl in a flowery pattern. I also love that it means there's no need to spend time picking out jewelry to wear.
I then glance up into the mirror, assessing the damage of today's hustle and bustle on my hair and makeup. I'm caught in between the dread of looking frightful and the fear of missing Harry altogether from taking too long to get ready. I decide to quickly tie a blue ribbon in my hair and twist my wavy locks back into it.
After applying just a little touchup to my makeup to hide the stress of the day, I give myself one final look in the mirror. I could definitely have done better with more time, but if I had all the time in the world I probably still wouldn't have spent it on makeup and hair. I'm not too interested in such fussy things.
I take a step back from the vanity table, my hands frantically patting myself down as I run through a checklist of everything I need.
Hair, check.
Clothes, check.
What else am I forgetting?
My toes wiggle as if in response. "Oh, bother.." I whisper under my breath. I would be the girl to show up barefoot. I quickly find a pair of white and brown heels that match fine enough, my fingers nervously fastening them.
I dart across the room to grab my dark blue clutch coat that hangs inside my armoire. I haven't worn it once since it's not nearly as warm as my winter coat, but it'll have to do under the circumstances.
Now that I'm finally dressed and ready to go, I can feel the weight of my decision creeping back on me. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath, pushing the voice of reason off to the deepest corner of my mind.
I tip toe carefully back to the light switch, making sure my that the clicking of my heels doesn't raise any alarm. My hand grips the metal switch and flicks it off. My fingers are already shaking from nervousness and excitement.
Just for good measure, I also decide to stuff my bed with my pillows as a Hazel decoy. It seems like a good idea at first as my mind thinks back on the books I've read where someone tries to escape using a decoy. However, when I take a step back to regard my work, I have to tilt my head to see if that makes it even remotely convincing.
It doesn't.
There's no way the misshapen lump would fool anyone, but it at least gives me peace of mind for trying. I crawl over my bed and the irregular shape that now occupies it, unlatching the cold window pane.
The air outside is chilly, yet still. And thank heavens for that. I start to feel wobbly just as I lean out the window and take in the distance from my room to the ground. My confidence fades even faster as I swing my leg over the edge of the window, straddling it like a horse, as the cold air and my doubt freeze over my muscles.
I take a deep breath, and try to focus on the image of Harry smiling.
You can do this.
I look down at my watch; it's already 7:10. I'm so late. An image of Harry sitting there by himself crosses my mind. I can't let him think I wouldn't show. Or worse, what if someone like Kitty just happens to see him sitting there.
"You can do it, you can do it, you can do it," I nervously encourage myself, my whispers nothing more than a mere mumble.
With that tiny bit of courage, dash of irrational jealousy, and a strong grip on the window ledge, I lift my left leg over the window. My foot desperately tries to find a place to land and to my surprise, finds it quickly- there is a wooden lattice hidden from the growth of the ivy.
Thank the heavens.
I pull the windows awkwardly shut from the outside and start to make my way down. I cling to the sticky, yet strong vines, slowly finding my footing as I shimmy way down the side of the house.
My nerves start to settle when I see that I've reached the first story level. When my foot is at about the level of the first story window, I let out a deep breath.
My relief, however, has come entirely too soon.
With about seven more steps beneath me, my foot suddenly tears through a vine, missing the lattice entirely. My hands shoots up, trying to steady myself, but I already know it's too late. In a giant thud, I come crashing down on the dewy grass beneath my window.
"Oh, good grief!" I huff.
A deep ache shoots through my hip and radiates down my back. I roll over to my back, ready to embrace my failure, when I open my eyes to see the most beautiful sky above me.
An involuntary giggle escapes my lips as I take in my freedom.
I did it!
I take a second to appreciate my rebellious accomplishment, a little squeal making it's way through my lips. Lucy would be so proud. Well, she probably would have made the whole thing seem way more graceful, but she would have been proud of me nonetheless.
Then, with a huge smile on my face, I jump up and shake myself off. The house is mostly dark, so it isn't too hard to sneak out the side gate where I've left my bike. I swing my legs over the sides, grateful the pleaded bottom half of my dress hangs below my knees, and peddle like a mad woman into town.
I know I'm close to town when I finally reach the wooden draw bridge. As I bike further into town, my eyes go wide, drinking up all of the beautiful scenes. Strings of lights dangle from each shop, lighting a path towards the center of town. Couples and families mosey about, arm in arm, bundled closely together.
When I reach the square, I hop off my bike, patting myself down to make sure I don't look too disheveled from the ride. I look at my wrist watch- 7:38.
Please still be here, please still be here.
The square itself is a little busy, full of people setting off little firecrackers and sparklers left over from the other night. Guy Fawkes Night, I think Gran called it? Uncle Ben tried to explain it, but it was lost on my American self and Gran didn't care to go into town to celebrate.
I continue to walk my bike through the center of the town square looking for Harry. The town square is more of a big garden. Although it isn't very big, nothing like Central Park back home, but it's definitely more than a couple blocks wide.
I make my way down a gravely path as small children push past me with whirligigs in their hands.
"That's mine, Peter! Mother says you have to share!" a little girl with cherub cheeks sings out. She can't be more than six, but her brother doesn't seem to care at all. He runs forward, his unbuttoned coat flapping in the light breeze.
"Well, Mother says you're a ding dong!" he chirps, turning back to stick out his tongue.
"No, Mother says you're a ding dong!" the little girl retaliates, chasing him across the path. The two break out into the most innocent laughter and I can't help but giggle as I push my bike along the path. They remind me of my own little siblings and a wave of homesickness I wasn't expecting washes over me.
I try my hardest to shake off the feeling as I continue to walk, moving farther away from the busier area of the park. Gravel crunches lightly under my heels, and I'm starting to wish I had found some way to get my warmer coat.
Just when I'm about to give up hope, I see a beautiful gazebo in the far corner. Strings of lights and wintery pink blossoms wind their way through the white slats, creating a picturesque oasis on this cold night.
And there, sat inside the sparkling treasure box, sits a beautiful boy in a paper boy hat.
Harry.
An uncontrollable smile grows on my face as I walk closer, my heart fluttering at the sight of him waiting for me. Harry sits on a white bench, staring at his hands as he wrings them together. My heart begins to ache a little when I take in his tense posture and his downward cast eyes. He looks so worried.
"Please, don't be angry with me," I call out to him.
Harry looks up. If I didn't know any better, a look of joy washes over what was a nervous, yet sweet face.
"I know I'm so late," I rush, "I really didn't mean to be, and usually I swear I'm such a punctual person, and-"
"It's aright, it's alright," he says sweetly.
He stands up, a nervous smile on his lips. It makes me want to reach up and kiss him, but I tell myself, friends, just friends.
Harry walks up to me, but keeps just enough space between us. Tension rises in my lungs and my body begins to ache in an unfamiliar way. If only I could just close the gap between us-
"Are you ready?" he asks, shaking me from my unholy thoughts.
"Absolutely," I reply.
We walk almost shoulder to shoulder together through the park and it feels so good to just be with him. I'm nervous and not sure what to say, but there is a magnetism that keeps my whole body buzzing with excitement.
"So where are we headed?" I ask him, admiring his strong, yet gentle features. The tiniest bit of stubble lines his jaw, and I have to tear my eyes away to stop ogling him. Mother would not be proud of me right now.
"Right over there," Harry points, leaning into me slightly. I look down the road to where he is pointing and see a brick building illuminated by a bright marquee.
Sprawled in big black letters reads, "Alexander's Ragtime Band!"
"I know it's not the most exciting, but there's not a lot that goes on around here," Harry says with a little chuckle.
"Oh, no, I love the pictures." I say as my feet pick up the pace a little. I haven't seen a movie in ages since I gave any extra money I had to Mother and Father.
"It's exciting for me. I think I was a young girl the last time I went," I tell him.
"Oh, why's that?"
"Well, times were just hard, I suppose. Not a lot of time and not a lot of dimes," I laugh at my little rhyme.
Harry nods quietly. I hope that I haven't made the conversation too serious.
"Should we get on line?" I ask Harry when we come across a small trail of people line up outside in front of a glass booth as a young man hands out tickets.
"Nope," he smiles cheekily. Harry continues to walk up to the front door, takes off his hat, clutching it in his one hand, as his other long arm swings the door open. I pass by with a little grin, reveling in his loveliness, and step inside into the warmth of the lobby.
Harry tilts his head, showing me the way over to a wooden counter where a young man takes coats and jackets from fellow movie goers. As we walk over, Harry calls out, "Liam!" The young man turns to face us, smiling when he registers Harry's voice.
"Hello, mate," Liam replies. My nerves flutter again when I realize I'm meeting another of Harry's friends.
"Is this the lovely gal, you've been on about?" Liam turns to face me. His face is thin and strong, but there's a softness in the roundness of his cheeks that I find quite friendly.
"Hazel," I introduce myself with a polite smile.
"Liam," he replies, his own smile quite charming. Liam seems to tower over us, but I think it's just because the ground is elevated behind the counter. He's not a big man, but he looks very nice in his uniform of a maroon jacket with gold stitching on the sleeves and a matching cap.
"You're in luck. I've gone and got you both just about the best seats in the house," he replies with a confident nod.
"Is that so?" Harry laughs as he tussles his hair with his hands. Lord, help me.
"Excuse me, but is there any place where I could powder my nose?" I ask timidly. I really do want to make sure my face hasn't gone and melted from all of the biking and racing of nerves.
"Sure, just over there," Liam points out. "If you want, I'll take your coat now."
"Oh, thank you," I tell him, "That'd be grand."
I set my handbag on the counter so I can remove my coat. As I take it off though, Harry and Liam's eyes go a little wide, making me instantly feel like something's gone wrong with my dress.
Liam clears his throat while Harry shakes his head a little and turns to face Liam. I quickly pat down my skirt to make sure it's not gone and flipped up in any wrong spot, but it seems to be okay.
"Thank you so much," I tell Liam, handing him the coat.
I turn to Harry and add, "I'll just be a minute."
He smiles with a redness in his own cheeks that I haven't seen before. As I walk away, I hear Liam whisper to Harry, "Trust me, you'll be thanking me."
Once in the powder room, I regard myself in the mirror. My cheeks are a little flushed and I could definitely use a little bit of powder, but nothing seems too out of the ordinary. I then triple check to make sure my dress isn't up to any funny business, but again it seems to be just fine. With just a little touch up of lipstick, I'm feeling a little more confident and stride out of the room to greet Harry and Liam at the base of a staircase.
Liam unhooks and lifts up a red velvet rope, ushering both Harry and I ahead of him. With a little click, he sets the rope back down and trots ahead of us to lead the way. When we reach the top of the stairs, Liam holds open a curtain, and my breath is taken away.
The movie house is absolutely wonderful. It looks almost like a real theatre, with a formal stage and everything. Massive, red, velvet drapes hang from the vaulted ceiling, covering what I assume is a huge picture screen. The walls surrounding the screen are a rich yellow, almost a gold color when set against the red drapes.
"Pretty grand for a small town, eh?" Liam chuckles.
"It's marvelous," I reply, holding on to Harry's arm as I take it all in. We make our way down to the first row of the balcony and I peer over the edge at the people who slowly find their seats down below.
"Now, there aren't too many people out and about tonight, so the theatre decided to close the balcony for tonight," Liam continues. "But, me being such a great mate," he gloats, "saw to it that you both get a nice view."
"It's just us up here tonight?" I ask, eyes wide.
"Pretend you're royalty," Liam laughs, patting Harry on the shoulder as he walks back up the stairs, leaving us to ourselves.
"Is this alright," Harry asks, his eyes searching mine.
"Of course," I reply. "It's absolutely lovely from up here. I feel like I'm in a movie myself."
Harry smiles, letting out a little breath as his shoulders relax a little.
"Here," Harry takes me by the hand, "Let's grab a seat before it starts."
Harry pulls me to the center of the front row, letting me choose exactly which seat I like. As we sit, the movie house lights slowly go down and the murmur from guests downstairs goes quiet.
My heart beat picks up such tremendous speed that I swear someone is going to shush me. I sit very still, with perfect posture as I clasp my hands together. It's not so much that I'm nervous to be around Harry, as it is I'm nervous about what I might do around him.
We're separated by a thin arm rest, but my body feels like it's coursing with electricity. I cautiously turn my head to sneak a peak of Harry. He's leaned back in his chair, obviously more comfortable than I am, but I can tell there is a reserved tension in his body. I have to snap my head forward again when I start contemplating just how tall he is as my eyes rake over his long legs.
The music begins to play and the velvet drapes rise dramatically, swaying ever so slightly as the picture screen slowly lights up the audience. I start to relax a little when I feel a hand nervously rest on my own. I look over to Harry bashfully, afraid that he can see all of the feelings that are rushing through my body. But, when I look into his gentle eyes, and a tender smile plays on his lips, my guard comes crashing down.
And for the billionth time tonight, I pray to God to help me through the night without combusting into a thousand little pieces of stardust.