Chapter Twenty-One
Pursing my lips and squinting my eyes, I studied the illuminated screen of my phone as I swiped my thumb over it, scrolling through the list of events, dates, and bonding days I’m to spend with my fake boyfriend over the course of the next month. Of course, I do not intend for our time together to last that long – hopefully not even half as long – but I let Harry optimistically plan far ahead.
It was too much, if I had any say in it – which I didn’t – but I was not going to argue. I may hate every second of it, but I decided today that I was going to attempt to not make what few weeks Harry and I had to spend together awful for both of us. It was useless and tiresome to be so cranky all the time. Besides, I really was excited to be friends with Harry, even if we had to pretend to be more than that first.
In fact, that was the purpose of the bonding days on the schedule. The idea came up first amongst the other boys, and it was clear Harry had no part in it because he was as surprised as I was when Liam mentioned that we should set aside a few days to spend together, out of the public eye, to work on our chemistry. Because apparently we had next to none, and eventually people would stop believing our façade.
Our next date was to take place tomorrow during lunch, and Harry was quick to assure me that he had taken security and exploitation matters into his own hands.
I’d been chewing on my nails by this point, already thinking about all of the public appearances we were going to be making in such a short period of time – it was worse than going out with Brady nearly every other day. Harry was answering a question Zayn had asked him when he caught sight of me.
“You look worried,” he noted.
I just stared his way, willing him to understand why I appeared this way without having to snap at him. I didn’t think being complacent would be such a struggle.
He must have understood. “Well, don’t be. I made some calls and talked to some people, and we will be fully covered tomorrow.”
“Define fully covered, Harry,” Louis had requested before I could.
“I mean that we’ll have security lining the place – multiple men at every entrance and exit – and the only photos to be taken will be taken by whoever is in the diner when we arrive. Once we’re there, no one else is allowed to enter, only exit.” He aimed a small, proud smile my way. “And this diner is located several miles outside of the city so that we won’t have to worry about enough people tracking us down quickly enough and trapping us inside the building.”
I was slightly surprised, to say the least, that Harry had taken my feelings into consideration this time around. It seemed like something he’d do, so I’m not completely sure why it surprised me, but… It just did.
“Thank you, Harry,” I’d said then, certainly noticing the way my voice sounded odd when I was being nice to someone I wasn’t blood-related to. Hopefully it was just me.
He seemed elated by my appreciation. “Sure.”
As the scene played itself out in my head again, I let my phone dim, bringing it to my lips as I tried to stop the silly smile blossoming on my face. There was no point for it, and I was beyond grateful that no one was in my bedroom with me to see it; not that they’d be able to, however, because the lights are off.
I turned my phone back on to check the time and then decided to just look over the schedule again. One more time, I told myself, and then you need to go to bed.
In that moment, my door handle turned and a faint light from the living room illuminated a chunk of my room, including me. Brady poked his head in, saw that I was awake, and shut my door behind him, enclosing us in complete darkness again. I shined my phone his way so that he could see where he was going, raising a brow though he couldn’t see it.
As he violently scooted me over – on my own bed – to weasel himself next to me, I went back to staring at my phone, and before long his head was right beside mine, peering at my schedule as well.
“Damn,” he eventually murmured. “You’re busier than I am this week.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“How’s that going by the way? Warming up to Harry yet?”
I glared over at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He backed down immediately. “I just meant he’s a good guy, Lex. I know the situation sucks for you right now, but you’d be missing out if you hold it against him forever.”
And what exactly would I be missing out on? World War III, attack of the fangirls? “It’s going fine, Brady. I’m not holding anything against him. How are you and Lucy doing?”
If he was going to put me in an awkward position, then I’d do the same thing to him.
“Actually I may have a tiny crush on her. Possibly.”
Although I hadn’t seen this response coming, I wasn’t swayed. “Do you, now?”
“Why don’t you sound surprised?”
“Because I’m not.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s pretty much been obvious since you introduced me to her, Brady.”
He scoffed. “No it hasn’t.”
“Yes it has.”
“You’re full of shit.”
I laughed. “You are!”
He smirked, holding up a hand, palm facing me. “Bitch, please.”
And then I was clutching my stomach, doubling over and smothering my face with my blanket so that I wouldn’t wake Mom and Dad. Beside me, my brother was chuckling, his head tilting backward, thunking softly against my headboard.
“That was so bad,” I giggled, finding it a struggle to stop finding his response hilarious.
He pressed a hand against his forehead. “I know. Don’t ever tell anyone I said that.”
I nodded, squeezing my eyes shut as I feared I’d begin crying from laughing so hard. “Deal.”
We both took a few minutes to calm down, realizing that if we continued talking about it, neither of us would ever quit laughing. It took some time, but once we were both able to breathe a sigh of relief, I found that I was much more tired than I was before.
“You know,” Brady said then, “I haven’t seen you laugh that hard in years.”
“No?”
He shook his head, his lips tightening into a straight line. “No. I mean I’m sure you have, I just wasn’t around to see it.”
I noticed that he sounded guilty, and it was then that I realized that Brady might have some regrets about choosing the life he did. Maybe not enough to ever make him go back on his decision and return home anytime soon, but enough to sometimes dislike himself and feel sad. And that made me sad, because I’m sure I never made it any easier on him by complaining about his absence so much.
“And you definitely have never laughed like that since being here,” he suddenly continued, as if adding an afterthought.
Part of me wanted to tell him exactly why that would be, but the better part of me kept the first part’s mouth shut. Instead, I thought to myself about why suddenly it’s different, that I’m laughing and happy now when I wasn’t the whole first month of the summer. The reason, I realized, was obvious. It was because my fake relationship with Harry would soon be over, and that makes visiting my brother for the remainder of the summer not that bad at all. In fact, I could probably have fun with it.
But the thought reminded me.
“Hey,” I said. “I have a weird question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you happen to have any girls’ numbers on your phone around my age? Besides Lucy?” I chewed on my lip; even to me, that question sounded awfully sketchy.
And Brady reacted exactly as I’d expected him to. “Why?”
Yeah, Lexie, why?
“Well, I figured if I’ve got another two months here, making some friends wouldn’t hurt. And then maybe I could even come visit you more often, because I’d be able to keep busy while you were, you know?” I explained.
Smooth.
I couldn’t tell if he believed my story or not, but he pulled out his phone and began to scroll through his contacts. As he rambled off some names, numbers, and ages, I quickly tapped them into my phone – occasionally asking questions about a few of them – and starred the ones I’d try first. And when Brady was finished, he added, “You could probably ask Lucy, too. I’m sure she has some friends your age, or something.”
“Thanks. I will. Are you guys hanging out again soon?”
“Well, tomorrow I’m having lunch with my manager and team and some executive producer for some TV show I’ve never heard of; they want me to guest star as the main character’s ex-boyfriend or something, I don’t know. But Lucy said she’d come over for my hair and outfit.”
It was too weird to think about my brother guest starring on a television show, so I pushed the idea out of my head for now. It could be something I’d ponder when I was bored and alone. Instead, I smiled. “Does she know you like her?”
He shrugged. “No idea. But that’s fine for now.”
“You should tell her, Brady.”
“No way.”
“Come on.” I nudged him with my elbow. “Be a man.”
He let out a yawn, then, stretching his legs out down the length of my bed. He shook his head. “I’ll be a man some other time.”
I sighed, but didn’t argue anymore, yawning as well. My energy seemed to be draining by the second, and I set my phone onto the nightstand beside my bed. Whether my brother continued to talk or not, my eyes could be closed; I wouldn’t fall asleep if he’s talking to me, right?
But after a while, I figured out he wouldn’t be saying a thing more. He began softly snoring, and my consciousness was slipping away bit by bit already. I felt my head rest on his shoulder, and then a whole new kind of darkness enveloped me.
He’s worse than a girl, I thought to myself as I checked the time on my phone again. He is now fifteen minutes late.
To my right, my dad sat with a book of crosswords, thoroughly engrossed in one of them. I knew because he only chews on the clicky end of the pen when he’s really focused, and considering he hasn’t looked up once from the page he was on, I’d say he was pretty focused. Mom, on the other hand, sat in Brady’s recliner with an odd look on her face, staring at me. She wasn’t even hiding that she was doing it. Just openly staring at me.
I was uncomfortable to say the least.
I began to wish Brady was here to keep me company because at least if he’d stare at me, he’d give me a reason why, whether he’s making fun of me or there’s something on my face or even for an entirely different reason. But Mom didn’t, and eventually I became overwhelmingly impatient, not just with Harry but with her as well for not saying anything for far too long.
“Okay, what?” I finally asked.
Dad didn’t budge. Mom, however, blinked. “What?”
“You’ve been staring at me for like a half hour. Did I do my makeup bad or something?”
“Oh,” she laughed a bit, glancing at the ceiling before returning her gaze to me. “No. I was just thinking about how nice it is that you have something to do now, instead of having to go with your brother all the time. I knew you didn’t like that. How are things with Harry, anyway?”
Sighing, I pressed three fingertips to my right temple, wondering how exactly I’m to explain what Harry and I were actually doing. Because I’m not sure she understood.
Before I responded, though, a thought occurred to me and I quickly unlocked my phone. As I tapped out a quick message, I could feel Mom’s eyes on me, so I hurriedly scrolled through my contact list to the girls’ names that Brady had given me last night. Then I hit send.
She was still waiting. I brought my focus back to our conversation.
“It’s not what you’re implying it is, Mom. Harry and I are just friends, if even that. Sometimes I can hardly stand to breathe the same air as him.”
My dad, still not lifting his eyes from his crossword, swung a hand out and smacked the side of my arm for my rude comment. I scowled his way.
“Well then why,” Mom began, pulling her own phone out. After a moment, she handed it to me. Harry and I were in a picture in the right-hand corner holding hands. He appeared to be kissing my cheek from this angle, but that would have been when he was whispering in my ear at the mall, warning me that some paps had found us. “Why does this article suggest otherwise?”
The headline read “STYLES SMITTEN WITH MCALLISTER’S BABY SIS” and briefly explained our day date at the mall. Apparently we couldn’t keep our hands off each other and were caught sneaking off from our security guard to be alone several times. I smirked.
“Mom, that’s the point of our fake relationship. We’re trying to make Harry’s fans believe he’s off the market, and if this article proves anything, it’s that it’s working. Okay? That’s all.”
She took her phone back and returned to her chair, not responding, but rereading the article. I rolled my eyes and went to check the time on my phone again, but as I did, there was a knock on the door.
“Finally,” I breathed. “Bye.”
Instead of letting Harry inside, I opened the door and pushed him backwards; he stumbled unexpectedly, his smile faltering. “Hey,” he complained.
I shut the door behind me. “Let’s go.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, following me as I brushed past him and speed-walked down the hall.
Clearing my throat, I shook my head. “Nothing.” He didn’t need to hear about my frustrating family problems. And now that I’m out of the house, I didn’t need to think about them either. I tried to clear my head.
“Okay,” he said uncertainly. “You look nice, by the way.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Compliment me when we’re not in public. Don’t worry about playing the part right now.”
But when I caught sight of him as we waited for the elevator, I almost wanted to eat my words. He looked charming for the first time since I’ve known him, sporting a white T-shirt under a dark brown leather jacket. He wore blue jeans today – skin tight, of course – that complimented his slightly rugged look nicely, and his old brown boots finally looked like they go. And I wanted so badly to compliment him, too.
He just looked at me for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. I didn’t really let myself think too much about it, because the elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open. We both stepped inside, silent.
The diner Harry took me to was much farther out of the city than I realized. He’d said several miles out, but I’d underestimated just how many. Nearly an hour had gone by before we finally arrived.
Now we sat face to face, across from each other at a small table in the corner, away from all windows, away from the main counter – not that anyone would be entering the place now anyway. We sat secluded in our own little world, it seemed.
I thought that’d bother me when Harry first chose the spot, to be honest. As much as I wanted to be Harry’s friend, the idea of being so alone on an actual date like this made me feel like we were defeating the purpose. But then I remembered that the purpose wasn’t being his friend. My purpose was, but ours wasn’t. Ours was to fool his fans. And so far, our efforts were working.
The good part about sitting out of the way, far enough from the other customers here, was that we were out of ear shot. They couldn’t hear a thing we were saying, and therefore our conversations didn’t have to be awkward and uncomfortable, for which I was unbelievably grateful. My hands sat folded on the table in front of me, my arms feeling weightless and loose – I wasn’t rigid or clenching my jaw or forcing a smile. The one I wore was there because Harry and his questions put it there.
“So, what was Brady really like when he was younger?” Harry asked, his eyes still twinkling from laughter. His previous question had me recalling the time Brady and his band of sorts attempted a hard rock song during one of their practices in our garage. My brother was without his voice for almost two weeks.
I shrugged, taking a sip of my lemonade to give me time to think about my response. “He was…a moron, honestly.”
He chuckled, waiting for more.
“He used to braid my hair for me when Mom worked nights, so that I could have wavy hair in the morning like all my friends did. This was when I was in the sixth grade, mind you, so Brady was already in high school,” I added, smirking at the familiar image of the two of us sat on my bed in front of my big mirror, him cross-legged behind me, singing softly to himself as he carefully developed two intricate French braids beginning at the top near my forehead and ending halfway down my back. I cut my hair a year later, and it’s just returning to its original length now.
“So he was a good brother,” Harry decided.
I nodded. “Definitely. And we once tried teaching Dad how to do it, so that Brady wouldn’t have to all the time. I ended up with a knot at the ends of my hair, and my friend’s Mom had to come help me get it out. It was a mess.”
“It sounds like it. Speaking of your hair, I’m dying to know,” he smiled. “Why pink?”
I pursed my lips, but let a sneaky smile slip onto my face after a moment. “It’s a secret.”
“Really?” He cocked his head, a gentle glare aimed my way.
“Yeah. I only tell my best friends.”
“And I’m not your best friend by now?”
My eyes began to roll before he was even finished speaking. “Are you kidding me?”
“Are you kidding me?” His palm pressed over his heart as he feigned a hurt expression.
“Harry.”
“After all we’ve been through together already,” he shook his head.
“More like after all you’ve put me through.”
He shrugged. “I think the two are similar enough. Besides, I think you owe me, actually.”
This took me for a moment. “What? How do I owe you?”
The expression on his face was so amusing then that I almost immediately began to laugh at it, and he hadn’t even said anything. He smirked so much that it transformed into a crooked grin, and his dimples cratered into his cheeks, his eyes twinkling again. Then he pointed a finger at me. “I believe I had to spend quite a bit on a dry-cleaning bill recently – “
“Oh, my God!” I covered my face with both my hands, feeling my cheeks heat up, fire hot, burning red.
He was laughing as he continued. “—because a little pink-haired girl decided to launch her smoothie at my brand new white shirt, and then run off without a single word.”
I hadn’t realized until I peeked through my fingers that throughout our conversation – especially this part of it – we’d been leaning towards each other across the table. Our faces were merely a foot apart, and to any onlookers we probably looked like we were having the time of our lives on this date. I wonder how many pictures have been taken, how many people warded off by our security team already. But I only wondered for a second.
My face wouldn’t stop burning. I didn’t want to move my hands.
“I was so hoping you’d forgotten all about that,” I admitted shamefully, shaking my head and closing my eyes. Finally, I dropped my hands, but then quickly returned one of them to feel the heat beneath the skin of my cheek.
“Not a chance,” he grinned. “And I’ve been dying to bring it up, believe me.”
I groaned. “I suppose I should probably apologize for that. Even though it’s a little late.”
He nodded. “Probably.”
“Well,” I inhaled deeply, then exhaled. “I’m sorry. For ruining your shirt. And for your dry-cleaning bill. And for the likely humiliation you then had to endure.”
“Not to mention the confusion.”
“And for the confusion, then.”
Silence followed my lackluster apology, and for the most part I was averting my gaze, looking anywhere else. Since I was formally introduced to Harry, all I could think about was that moment, and I had always wondered why he never brought it up. I guess I’d always just assumed it was because he was too kind, too forgiving. He’d just put it in the past.
Yeah, right.
When it seemed like too much time had passed, I glanced up at him to find him still smiling at me. Was he waiting for more?
“What?” I asked.
He shook his head quickly, as if I’d pulled him out of a trance. “Nothing. And I forgive you.”
Huffing a sigh, I brought my lemonade glass back up to my lips, looking away, feeling shamefully embarrassed still. He couldn’t have chosen a less public moment to bring that up? Not that there too many people here, but it might as well have been millions if someone got a picture at exactly the right time.
When we first arrived, and even after we’d ordered and began eating, I never really took the time to see who was all in the diner with us. I didn’t mind much, and I still didn’t now, but a young girl was approaching Harry from behind. He couldn’t see her and I could, and I debated on whether or not I should flag down a security guard. But she couldn’t be older than eleven, and upon further inspection of the place, it didn’t seem like there were any other girls for her to alert. I decided to leave her be.
She tapped on his shoulder hesitantly, a contained, but excited, tight-lipped smile on her small face. Her brown eyes gazed up at him – she was so short – and she tucked a lock of her chocolate-colored hair behind an ear. Harry turned, setting his glass of iced tea down, surprised that he was being bothered.
But he instantly adorned a smile of his own, the most charming one I’d ever seen him wear. It brought a smile to my own face as I watched their exchange.
“Hi, Harry,” she greeted him shyly, her smile growing.
“Hi, love. What’s your name?” he replied. His whole body was turned towards her now, his chair turned. He was giving her his full attention.
“Olivia.”
He nodded. “That’s a really pretty name, Olivia.”
She giggled. “Thank you. Will you take a picture with me?” I hadn’t realized her hands had been behind her back, but she held a camera when she brought them in front of her.
Harry took it. “Sure, who should we take a picture of, Olivia?” He glanced over his shoulder at me. Something flashed through his eyes so quickly that I wasn’t sure if I actually saw it or not. “How about her?”
Olivia openly laughed. “No, will you take a picture with me? Of you and me in it?”
“Oh, together?” Harry asked. “Good, she’d break the lens anyway.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder at me.
“Thanks,” I rolled my eyes.
Harry handed me the camera and pulled Olivia onto his lap. He kept a hand behind her back, wrapped around her tiny waist, and then his other hand rested on one of her knees. Olivia looked elated, and she put on a toothy grin – well, minus one front tooth. Harry smiled as well, his perfectly straight teeth showing as well.
“One, two,” I counted, “three.”
The camera flashed, probably drawing a bit of attention to our table that wasn’t already there. Olivia thanked Harry, then me, and I handed her back her camera. She scurried off and around a corner to where her parents must be, and Harry watched her go, his gaze remaining on the corner where she disappeared for a while after she actually did. When he finally turned back around, he seemed troubled.
He leaned forward, speaking quietly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone in here would be much of a fan that they’d interrupt us.” His eyes were on anything but me.
“Harry,” I frowned. He wouldn’t look at me. “Harry.”
His eyes flashed up to mine.
“Why are you apologizing?”
“Aren’t you upset?”
I raised a brow. “No?”
I didn’t want to admit out loud how fascinating the whole encounter was for me to watch. I’ve always expected celebrities to brush off their fans like they don’t really appreciate them, but I also know that Harry likes his fans a bit more than the average celebrity. And though I came close in the mall to witnessing him interact with them, I never actually got to see it.
And now that I did, it was fascinating.
“Oh,” he eventually said, letting out a breath he seemed to have been holding and watching me curiously. He sat back in his seat, a brow raised, mirroring my own expression. After a long while, we both breathed an enlightened sigh and chuckled.
Harry flagged down a waitress and ordered us two slices of pie to go, an easy smile on his face the whole while. It was nice – and different – to see, because he was around me. And usually when I’m around, neither of us are smiling for very long.
As Harry led the way out of the diner, my phone vibrated in the pocket of my shorts. I pulled it out and stumbled over a table leg in the process, gripping the crease of Harry’s elbow to catch myself. He stopped walking to make sure I was alright, and I nodded, ducking my head and pulling my hand away from him. We continued on.
I swiped at my screen and unlocked it. I had a new message from a girl named Charlotte.
Hi, Lexie! Nice to meet you! What can I help you with?
I grinned.