I avoided talking to Harry for all of Friday evening and all of Saturday - but it was only 3 so who knew how many times he would call. Our conversation on Friday must have held him over because he hadn't been sending overly apologetic or sappy messages.
I had showered and was sorting out what to wear and quite honestly freaking out. I felt really guilty and felt like I probably shouldn't be doing this but my mind justified it again with the whole just friends logic.
I finally decided on a pair of white shorts and a long draped orange loose knit sweater. I added some tan sandals and let my hair dry naturally so it was a bit wavy. I kept my make up minimum. As long as I dressed like I was hanging out with a friend, that's all it would be.
And at exactly 6 on the dot, the buzzer for the main gate rang and I looked in the camera to see James. I buzzed him in and opened the front door with him. He greeted me with a sweet smile and a handful of flowers, wrapped artfully with colored string.
“I hope you like daises,” he said.
“They’re lovely! Let me just put them in some water and we can be on the way.” I disappeared into the kitchen and put them in a vase, glancing a little too long at the bouquet of roses from Harry that outshone James’ handful of daisies. Friends didn’t bring friends flowers.
We got into his car and headed into the direction of West LA. “Where are we headed to tonight?” I asked.
“Santa Monica Pier,” he responded. “I thought it would be fun to play some games and go on some rides. You know, just kind of let loose.”
“Sounds wonderful.” I enjoyed the car ride and by the time we arrived, we had established a playful banter and I was happy to finally just be free from all reservations for once. I didn’t have to worry about the paparazzi or what I was wearing. I felt completely carefree. It was nice and long overdue.
We play various games, battling each other on the basketball challenge. I won during the horserace watergun game and he knocked over all the pins at the pitching stand. We rode the roller coaster and the bumper cars and couldn’t between popcorn, cotton candy or pizza so we got all three. The sun had set and I had barely noticed because I was having so much fun. It felt so easy and natural and James didn’t seem fazed if a fan came up to me for a picture. I realized it had been one of the first times in a very long two weeks that I had actually had fun.
We strolled along the beach, listening to the waves crash along the shore, our feet getting kissed by the cool ocean water. We walked forever while James told me about his parent’s divorce after they moved to Los Angeles and how his mom had ended up working so much he had helped raise his little sister. He told me how he always wanted to be a police officer for the simple reason that he would be doing something good. He was so nice and good – it was so refreshing to be with someone who wasn’t caught up in all the drama of Hollywood.
I told him how I had moved to LA with my aunt and got into acting and now here I was. I left everything else kind of vague. I assumed he knew about the kidnapping and Cost’s death but I didn’t mention it. It was too good of a night to put a damper on the evening with the talk of such depressing topics.
We went back to his car around 11 and I found myself wishing the evening was still going to continue.
“Would you like to get a Sundae?” he asked, gesturing around him as we passed various ice cream parlors.
“That would be nice!” We pulled into one and it was complete 50’s style and a waitress walked over to us, rollerskates in hand. “Sorry guys, last orders were ten minutes ago. Oh! Archer Grey! What can I get for you guys?”
James ordered a peanut butter sundae and I ordered a hot fudge sundae. I laughed after she walked away. “Sometimes it does pay to be famous.”
He laughed weakly. She returned a few minutes later, handing us the bowls of ice cream. “These are on the house,” she said, smiling.
We ate our ice cream in silence, enjoying the cool evening air drifting through the car and soft rock music playing in the background. James started the car back up and we headed towards my house, pulling in front of it, 30 minutes later.
“I had a great time tonight,” I said.
“Me too, this was probably the best first date I’ve had in a while.” He scooted closer.
Fuck. First date. Damn it, he’s going to try to kiss me!
“I’m not sure I’m looking for something at this exact moment. But I really enjoy hanging out with you,” I said, hoping he would understand.
His face fell, but he recovered quickly, flashing me that gorgeous smile of his. “You’re right. I understand. It’s way too soon after everything. I’m sorry. I don’t want to push. Friends?”
“Friends.” I hugged him and kissed him on the cheek, thanking him again for the wonderful evening. I hurried inside and threw my stuff down, checking my phone. Sure enough, a plethora of missed calls from Harry along with text messages.
I tossed the phone aside. Granted, I know I had hung out with James only one time but he was different. He wasn’t caught up in all the bullshit of celebrity world and he was such a gentleman and so down to earth and sweet and funny and respectable. I could see something long term developing if I were to think of him seriously and in that way.
On the other hand, there was Harry who had just reappaeared in my life and dumped an exorbitant amount of shit in my lap and then fucked off on tour. He was wonderful, too. Sexy, charming, dangerous, sweet when he wanted to be, passionate, funny, and he wanted me. But he lied to get me and I still didn’t like that fact.
I FaceTimed Harry and he answered after a few rings.
“Hi, love,” he shouted into the phone. He was out, I could see a crowd of people around him and he took the phone with him as he stepped outside. “Sorry, it’s super loud in there.”
“Where are you?” I asked.
“We just got to North Carolina this afternoon, I’m experiencing some of that wonderful Southern hospitality,” he winked and took a sip of his drink.
As if I didn’t know all too well about the Southern hospitality having gone out with the most charming gentleman tonight.
“Oh, cool. Alright, well I’ll let you go, have fun! Bye.” I hung up the phone before he could protest and instantly got a flood of texts.
‘Are you mad?’ ‘I’ll call you when I’m back in the room. <3’
I was a bit annoyed, but I think it was more my own guilt than anything. I felt super guilty at the moment. Shit. I might be getting into something I’m not sure I want to get into. I needed to think and clear my head and I definitely needed my best friend to do it.
I messaged Lizzy asking for girl time tomorrow and she responded immediately saying she’d be over around 12. I changed into pajamas and lay in bed, scrolling through twitter until I fell asleep. Harry never called.
-
Lizzy appeared the next day promptly at 12. We ordered pizza and sat in the kitchen waiting for it to arrive. My aunt was out with Brandon. Lizzy told me how Niall had booked a flight back to Los Angeles for the 6th of October.
“He wants to take me to Ireland! Can you believe it? I’ve never been! That would be so much fun,” she gushed.
“Ireland is wonderful, I’ve been a few times when I was a kid,” I said.
“When’s Harry come back?” She asked. The buzzer for the main gate went off and she went to collect the pizza. When was Harry coming back? That was a good question. We hadn’t discussed final plans or anything really and I wasn’t sure what was going on. He had never called me back from last night and I figured he had either done something to piss me off or was nursing a hangover. While he most likely was doing the latter, my subconscious reminded me that he might also be hiding something. I shook the thoughts out of my head when Lizzy came back with the box of pizza. We dug into it and once finished two slices each, moved into the living room and chilled out on the couch.
“Okay, so what’s going on?” She asked. “You have been unusually quiet and I know you’ve been keeping everything pent up. It’s not healthy you know.”
“I know, but where do I begin?”
“Okay, let’s start with the DUI.”
“That was such a fucked up day. It all started with Harry. Everything lately has started with Harry I feel like and while I don’t want to be harboring these ill feelings towards him, I can’t help but do so.”
“You need to explain more than that, you’re too vague.”
I sighed and launched into my tirade of how Harry had leaked our previous relationship to the media and how he had blackmailed Cost and then he had found the suicide note and hid himself away from me. I told her I didn’t feel like I could trust him and all he brought into my life was a whirlwind of drama. And he got to leave which wasn’t fair because I still had to clean things up once he away.
“I have a few thoughts. First one: you both are famous. You do realize that by getting involved with him or anyone else, really, there’s going to be drama and the paparazzi and gossip magazines scrutinizing your every move. You know this. It comes with the culture and it’s the price you have to pay for fame. Granted, he does get to go off to be on tour, but not all the drama is his fault. He still has to deal with his fair share, I’m sure. He’s also used to more of it than you are since you haven’t really had these kinds of major headline issues in your life before. He has a psychotic fan base as you well know. But that’s not his fault. You can’t take what his fans do out on him.”
“That’s true – but Carissa-“
She cut me off. “No. Carissa is a fucking psychopath and we are going to find her. Again, it’s not Harry’s fault that this woman is such a raging lunatic. She would be going after whoever was with him and clearly she is mentally unhinged and she’s going to be put away for a long ass time when she’s caught. It’s unfortunate that you got caught in the crossfire, but no, not Harry’s fault. He didn’t make her psycho.”
“Why are you sticking up for him so much? You’re also missing my point. All this drama is attached to him! None of it, Cost wouldn’t be dead, I wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped, I probably wouldn’t have gotten a DUI and god knows what else is going to come down the pipeline with him around now.”
“Well, that’s a decision you’re going to have to make, then. If you love him, you’re going to have to accept him, flaws and all, crazy fans and media drama and everything else that comes with that. If not, tell him and be done with him. Don’t string him along. That’s the worst you can do. And do it now before you break his heart again.”
“Here you go again, Lizzy!” I shouted. “Sticking up for him. Why is it Harry’s feelings we’re so concerned with when mine are just as important of a factor?”
“I’m being blunt, Annaleise. You can take my advice or leave it. Yes, he’s a dick sometimes and manipulated things with the media and you can be pissed at him all you want for that but it’s going to be time when you have to let go. And then what are your reservations going to be? If you’re always going to have an issue with him, then just tell him that and move on with your life.”
I sat back and folded my arms over my chest. “I hear you. I might have done something bad though.”
She raised an eyebrow waiting for my next story. I told her about James the police officer and how we had gone out and had a wonderful time but in the end I convinced him it wasn’t a date and we agreed to be friends.
“Okay, and what’s the bad thing you did?”
“I really find myself liking him and liking the person I am around him. He’s easy to talk to and so sweet and the best part? There’s no drama around him – he’s straightforward and black and white. There are no shades of grey and I don’t have to worry about craziness or drama.”
“You went out with him one time, I don’t think you know him all like that. You can hang out with him all you want, but you’re walking a very fine line, missy. You know where to draw it and if you choose to step over that line, you’re going to be in some big, big, shit.”
“Ugh!” I flopped myself back on the couch.
The buzzer for the main gate rang and I sat up. Who could that be? I checked the camera and it was a delivery.
“We’re not expecting anything,” I said.
“I have a flower arrangement for Miss Annaleise Archer,” he said.
“Awe! I bet they’re from Harry!” Lizzy called. I buzzed him in and greeted him at the door, taking the box and bringing it inside.
“Let’s see, let’s see!” Lizzy demanded. I set the box down on the kitchen table and Lizzy stood next to me while I opened it. My eyes grew wide at the site inside the box. The normally vibrant red roses were dead and shriveled up. They had been tied together with what looked like rosary beads.
“What the fuck?” Lizzy said next to me.
I reached for the card. “YOU” is all it said. I flipped it over and there was nothing on the other side.
“That’s creepy as fuck,” Lizzy said.
I nodded before calling Detective Heywood who said he would send an officer over and send the one outside the house to locate the delivery area. Thirty minutes later the main gate buzzed again and I saw it was James standing outside. I let him in and showed him the arrangement, which he put in a bag for evidence.
“Are we all thinking they’re from Carissa?” Lizzy asked finally breaking the silence.
“It would appear that way, ma’am,” James said. Lizzy snickered.
“Seriously? Call me, Lizzy. You’re certainly friendly enough with Archer over here.” She nudged me and I stomped on her foot. James blushed at her comment and coughed.
“I’ll take these back to the station and see if they were able to track down the delivery guy or the person who placed the order.” He nodded to us both and I walked him to the door.
“Uh, Annaleise? Do you wanna maybe get coffee sometime this week? I’m off Tuesday? We could grab some breakfast and something if you’d like. As friends.”
“I would like that very much,” I said. I hugged him goodbye and walked back in to find Lizzy staring at me wide-eyed.
“Remember what I said, girlfriend, fine line. Very fine line.”