◤ chapter twenty-one: ❛ one of the greats ❜ ◢
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TONI WASN'T BORED, BUT SHE WAS NERVOUS. Never in her life had she had an all-consuming crush like that. Yeah, in elementary school there was Jake Albright who had rosy cheeks and pushed her on the swings during recess, and in middle school there was Jenny Hemmings who had the best music taste and let Toni eat her apples at lunch because she didn't want them. But those were childish, little crushes that made her blush but didn't consume her every moment and make her feel so many butterflies in her stomach like Harry.
She wasn't used to this – wasn't used to letting someone have this power over her, over her feelings and her heart in such a way where if they left she would be crushed. Yeah, when Jake Albright left in the middle of the school year she was sad but it was whatever, and when Jenny Hemmings started dating Kyle Murray she cried a little but if Harry were to do either of those things...Toni didn't know what would happen.
And that wasn't normal, right? It wasn't good? She didn't know, it wasn't like her or any of her friends had ever been in a relationship – like an actual relationship – before. Atlas had somewhat dated some guys, slept with more, and Sabrina had crushes but had never been in a relationship before hers with Liz.
Either way, she knew that she didn't like feeling powerless because of a person. She liked to be in control, dictating her own life and living the way she wanted without the influence of another person – that was freeing to her, and she adored her own freedom. But Harry...? She knew if she let him, he could control her life, and that was a terrifying feeling to have roaming around inside her.
She knew she could fall because of his smile, knew her knees could go weak to his laugh, and knew that she could be utterly his with just a word and this was new. This was different and she hated it. She knew that eventually her parents would control her, this was her time for sweet freedom, and she didn't need anyone else tugging her in a certain direction.
She hated liking him, but Finn's words comforted her. It was okay to like him, to fall into the type her family always sought after, to be an Alderson through and through in this way, because the intentions were different. Harry made her feel good, made her feel like her mistakes weren't life-ending, and she felt comfortable next to him. Everything was easy with him, no secrets seemed too bad or deep to tell, and no shameful deeds seemed so bad anymore.
They felt normal, acceptable, because he accepted them and he accepted her even from the very beginning when she didn't accept him. No one else made her feel that way, so it was easier to slip deeper into wanting him. And it was okay.
Her feelings were good, they weren't distorted, they were hers and hers alone. This was not an Alderson gene creeping in and taking over, wanting to trap the billionaire's son for the potential money and power later in life. This was Toni – not Antoinette – feeling utterly free with him and wanting to hold his hand.
Not necessarily wanting to kiss him, to pull him under the covers, but to just be beside him, holding his hand and seeing his smile and hearing his laugh. Seeing his nose crinkle and touching his hair and combing through it. That's what she wanted – something entirely different than what she wanted from anyone else.
This wasn't physical, this was kindred. This was her wanting to be by his side forever and going through this stage of her life with him, this was her wanting to hold him in her arms and be held back. It was comfort, it was longing, it was her being free. Uncontrolled. Unbound by Alderson expectations.
"You can do this, you know?" Atlas turned to her, staring intently into her eyes. "Like, you got this and everything."
Toni rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance, though his vote of confidence in her went a long way. "I know that I can – hypothetically anyway – it's just the actually doing it thing that scares me."
Atlas rolled his eyes at her, sitting up straight and taking a drag before saying, "You've gone up to guys millions of times asking them to fuck you, what gives now?"
"Because I'm not asking anyone to fuck me, I'm asking Harry if he maybe likes me. There's so much more at stake with this because my feelings could actually get hurt," she explained. Or, well, partially explained anyway.
There was so much more than that. She could take rejection, even though she might cry a little (a lot) that night, but she just couldn't take for the first time putting herself out there for someone she genuinely wanted to be with and being shunned.
(Some part of her was scared that it would be her turning point, rejecting anything genuine and only pursuing the standard Alderson relationships. A loveless life for money and power, nothing genuine unless she had an affair – which would not be allowed in the slightest.)
He softened at her, as if understanding just a little more, though she was sure he couldn't fully understand her predicament. Only Finn could, because only he was a part of her fucked-up family who didn't believe in love. They weren't taught how to be real, they were taught how to reel someone in and keep them there – mainly for the women getting pregnant.
"Harry likes you. It's obvious to everyone but you, really, but he does like you. He's not going to reject you," he told her softly, taking her hand in his for some extra comfort.
She sighed, shrugging away and out of his reach. "Yeah, but sometimes liking someone isn't enough. I'm a fucking mess, Atlas, like a real fuck up. He might like parts of me, but he sure as hell doesn't like others. I don't even like parts of me."
She thought about Caden, how she invited him back in, how she let him use her to cheat on his girlfriend. Then she thought about how she told Harry, how he knew this. She hated this part of her, and he should too. There was nothing to like about her.
Atlas huffed at her. "You're overthinking this. He likes you, and it doesn't matter if he doesn't like some parts of you. You'll work it out together, and it'll be fine. Just let it be, okay?"
She wished she could. She could pretend to be carefree, but the truth was that she overthought every single thing in her life and picked it apart until it they were just broken pieces floating around in her brain and nothing was as beautiful as it was before. She couldn't just let things be, she had to ruin them because she was a destructive force of nature who couldn't allow herself to be real or good or genuine.
The Aldersons didn't do real happiness, and neither could she even though she craved it.
"I wish I could," she admitted to him, because life would be so much easier if she could just let herself be in the moment, let herself be happy, let herself not overthink everything in her life until everything was dull and no good anymore.
But Aldersons were critical thinkers, always in their head, always wondering how to get exactly what they wanted. They picked apart everything until it was exactly what they wanted and nothing was beautiful anymore.
Atlas' eyes turned almost sympathetic, a mix of confusion as he didn't understand why the wheels inside her head turned and never stopped, but sad nonetheless for her. He pat her on the shoulder twice in a comforting motion which made her a little tense. That's exactly the kind of affection her father showed her, and the only kind as well.
"Look, Tones, shoot your shot. If he rejects you, fuck 'em. He's not worth your time if he can't recognize that you're one of the best people in the world," Atlas told her and she laughed at him a little.
She wanted to call him a liar, because she couldn't be one of the best people in the world. She lied, she deceived, she made so many fucking mistakes it hurt – there was no way she was one of the best. But when her eyes met Atlas', she knew that he didn't think he was lying. He truly thought that about her, and all complaints melted because at least he thought she was one of the greats.
"Thanks," she weakly managed to get out, because she wasn't used to saying that and especially not when someone said she was a good person.
It was always you have great taste and you have great potential with her parents, it was never just you are great. She wasn't great yet to them, because she hadn't achieved what they all sought after. When she reached that, when she trapped a rich man and had a child, set for life, then she would be great.
"No problem," Atlas shrugged it off, because to him saying that she was wonderful was casual. It didn't mean anything, not really, and his mind wasn't doing loops after saying it. It was easy, just like breathing, but for her it was everything.
To hear that she was great, just as she was, and that she didn't have to change herself or be older was the best thing she had ever heard. Just the way she was, so she allowed herself to throw her body into Atlas' arms and let him hold her. Here, she was safe. Here, she was great.
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She didn't expect herself to be as nervous as she was. In her head, she imagined herself – cool and carefree – casually suggesting that they go on a date and then kiss him and it wouldn't even matter. It would be easy, it could be passed off without a second thought, and he wouldn't see what a mess she actually was.
But now, she was sitting in Apple's Eye Diner where she texted Harry to meet her (Finn not on shift, thank God) and her leg was bouncing and she kept looking around anxiously waiting for him to show up and put her out of her misery.
This was not cool and carefree; this was nerves and not knowing how to actually process emotions. Because this was so much different from being intoxicated at a party, moving your body to the music until someone latches onto you, so you cling onto them until your lips mold together and somehow you end up running away and into a bed where you spend the night.
This was her waiting at a diner for her crush to show up so that she can confess that maybe she wanted to be more than friends, that she wanted to hold his hand, to be close to him, to call him her boyfriend and be his girlfriend, and kiss his cheek until it was red under a blush. This was so much more than one night, and it scared her that she wanted someone by her side for a longer amount of time.
She heard the bell ring over the door, causing her to jerk her head towards the noise, this time not disappointed by the person walking in. It was him. At the same time she let out a sigh of relief, her nerves jumped through her body shocking her because he was here now and there was absolutely no turning back.
It was time. This was it.
He saw her easily and offered her a smile, sitting down across from her and looking around the joint. "Nice place," he complimented, "How'd you know about it?"
"My cousin works here," she answered, not going into full detail over the history her family has had with the diner. It would be too confusing and she didn't want to spend time on those people when she was trying to stray away from them.
"Nice," he nodded, "They working here now?"
She shook her head. "No, thankfully. I checked with his co-worker to see and he has the day off."
Harry hummed, nodding his head again, hand going through his hair to comb it back. He looked around before giving her another smile which of course made her stomach do flips all over again from it. "So, you texted me to come eat some pie with you?"
"No – I mean, yes and no...I guess," she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut before giving him a nervous smile, "Let me rephrase that: kinda?"
"Kinda?" he raised an eyebrow, looking entirely amused by the situation causing her to roll her eyes. She at least refrained from hitting him.
"Shut up. Yeah, we can eat pie here and it's great. Really, I've never had better apple pie, but also no it's not exactly the reason I wanted to meet up with you here," she admitted, pausing before continuing, "I like you. I think we both know what kind of like I mean, so yeah."
He blinked, seemingly stunned for a moment. "You like me?" he repeated.
"Yep," she nodded.
"As in more than a friend?"
"Yeah."
"As in you wanna date me."
"Yes."
"Really?"
"What is that so hard to believe?" she rolled her eyes before considering that, yeah maybe, it was hard to believe.
He shook her head, "Yeah, it kinda is. This isn't a joke or anything, right?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm too fucking nervous about this for it to be a joke. Just go ahead and say you don't feel the same way so that I order a comfort pie."
Harry raised his hands, as if motioning for her to stop for a moment, and she almost starting cussing him out because she was already on edge and just wanted him to spit it out so that he could leave and she could cry.
Another beat of silence passed between them and it felt like an eternity to her. "So you really like me?" he asked again, this time more meek, like he was shy and nervous about her answer.
"Haven't I already said that?" she snapped at him, because she couldn't stop herself.
He smiled widely, brightly, like he was happy and she felt utterly confused over it. "I like you too," he told her.
"And you waited this long to tell me?" she cried out, "You left me hanging for like a minute thinking I royally fucked up by saying something!"
"Sorry, sorry," he apologized with a laugh, "I just – I had to process it. I never actually thought you liked me back, I mean, you always seemed like you hated me."
"I did...and then I didn't," she told him and he pointed at her, as if using that as his evidence to back up his story.
"Well," he smiled, still just the tiniest bit nervous but overall happy and confident, "Let's get some celebratory pie, shall we?"