Miami, Florida - 1495 miles
Before I had offered to give a ride from Miami to Boston to a guy with a name straight out of the 1800s who got more irritating by the second–I'm sure that after that, you could get a clear understanding of how I felt about Harry–I had always believed myself to be the epitome of a mature, intelligent adult who was able to make the right decisions. Okay, so I lived off of Chinese takeout half the time and sure, I didn't always study as hard as I should for my courses and, alright fine, I was still deathly afraid of needles even though I was twenty years old. But for the most apart, I was still able to make decisions on my own fairly well. I rarely jumped into things without thinking them through.
But, just like every great heroine has her downfall, unfortunately, I had mine too. And that was the crashing of Harry Styles into my life. Literally.
I honestly had no idea why I had ever once thought that it would be a good idea to go along with his messed up idea of a road trip. It couldn't have been sympathy, since I wasn't exactly the nicest person around. And now that we were traveling together, we had to think about all of the logistics–food, gas money, how I was going to deal with being seen in public with somebody like Harry, and, possibly the scariest one of them all: where we were going to sleep at night.
I had made it extremely clear from the moment that Harry had rejoined me that we were definitely not going to be crashing in my car. "Maybe you're used to that sort of thing, being homeless and all," I had informed him, "but that's one thing that I am not going to stand for."
To which Harry had sarcastically responded, "Oh, you're standing? Huh. You're so short, I must have thought otherwise."
I raised my eyebrows in distaste and snapped, "Must I remind you who is hauling your sorry ass up from Florida all the way to Boston?"
"All right, go ahead."
I chose to ignore that cheeky comment and instead, I asked, "So do you know any places that we could possibly sleep in?" It had already gotten dark outside and we were now sitting in the Burger King parking lot on an empty bench. The only other people outside were three boys a few feet away, who were passing around something that looked a lot like a joint. They seemed to be keeping their distance, except for one of them, a tall guy with shaggy, white-blonde hair. He kept on staring back at me, and I was beginning to get a little bit creeped out. Could you really blame me, though? It was pitch black outside and all I had was Harry's scrawny ass to defend me.
All right, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. If anything, Harry was the opposite of scrawny, with his enormous build and muscles bulging out of his ugly patterned shirt. But he didn't need to know that.
"I know that there's this motel a few miles away from here," Harry offered after a minute, drumming his fingers mindlessly on his fedora, which I had finally gotten him to take off. "We could crash there."
I rolled my eyes at him. "Of course you would suggest a fucking motel. Why am I not surprised?" He didn't say anything, so I continued, "Harry, are you trying to get in my pants?"
He snorted as if even the mere possibility of us sleeping together was hilarious. "I'm pretty sure sleeping with you would be a felony," he scoffed at me. "You're, like, fourteen. I don't want to be known as a pedophile for the rest of my life."
"Hey! I already told you a million times, I'm twenty! Besides, I'm not even that short. You're just a giant. It's weird."
He chuckled and bumped his knee against mine. "I don't think I'll ever believe that. And besides, with how many times you've brought it up in less than twenty four hours, I'd say that you're the one who's trying to sleep with me."
This time it was my turn to laugh at him. "I brought it up twice! Don't flatter yourself, Styles. You're not as big of a ladies man as you think you are."
He ignored me and then proceeded to saying, "Hey, is it just me or does that guy keep on staring at us? The one with the blonde hair. Weird scar on his face. Most likely smoking a joint right now."
"Right?" I exclaimed. "I knew he was staring at me! God, he's so weird." I paused. "Let's go beat him up."
Harry stared at me as if I had just announced that I had conceived a baby with George Bush. Or something. I don't even know what I'm saying. "Why would we do that?" he said slowly, pretending to back away from me. "I think you're the weird one, Lex."
I pointed a finger at him. "Don't call me that."
A sly smile curled up the corners of his lips as he asked me, "What? 'Lex'? Is that what you don't want me to call you?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "Yes. Are you really that slow?"
Pretending as if he hadn't heard my final comment, he continued, "And why is that?" He paused and then, just to piss me off a little more, he added, "Lex."
"Because only my friends call me that–"
He interrupted me, "So only two people, including me?"
This time, I shoved my finger into his chest and snapped, "Shut up. We're not friends–deal with it."
He pretended to wipe away a fake tear after hearing my words. "Wow, Lexi," he sniffed. "You sure know how to break a man's heart."
I raised my eyebrows in response. If that was even a thing.
"Oh, so I don't even deserve an answer?" he teased.
"No, not really." Maybe I was overthinking things, but I was pretty sure that he was flirting with me right now. I wasn't saying that he liked me or anything, because that was definitely ridiculous, but I was pretty good at realizing when people were being coy with me. Maybe he just had a naturally flirty personality, though. I don't know.
I got up from the bench to go throw my stick of gum in the trash, but the minute I had stood up, the blonde stoner from across the parking lot whistled, "Hey, baby! Nice ass!"
My cheeks reddened in both anger and humiliation as the two boys beside him cackled with laughter at their friend's antics. I was too embarrassed to turn around and have to face not only them, but Harry as well. I had no idea what he would do, or say.
My uncertainty was confirmed when all of a sudden, I heard Harry's voice from behind me yelling, "Hey! You don't talk to a girl like that! Jesus."
The stoners just laughed at him and once I had finally gained my composure, I made my way back to the bench and took a seat beside Harry. We stared at each other for a moment until I told him, "I want to go and fucking knock their teeth out."
"Don't," he sighed. "They're not worth it." He paused and then a moment later, he spoke again, this time sounding a whole lot more aggravated. "God, I fucking hate it when guys think they can do that! It's disgusting''.
I didn't answer him. I was far too humiliated. Instead, I took my phone out and pretended to be browsing through my Instagram feed, even though there obviously was no Internet connection outside and I was too cheap to pay for 3G.
"Let's go back to the car," Harry suggested quietly, noticing my silence. He was probably just as shocked by it as I was–it was definitely rare for my mouth to be shut. Ever since I was a little kid, I had always had to have something to say.
He stood up and put out a hand for me to grab, even though I was capable of getting up by myself. I accepted it anyway, but unfortunately, things didn't exactly go as planned. And why was that? Well, maybe because there was a piece of sticky gum stuck to my ass.
"Ugh!" I shrieked. "Get it off, get it off, get it off!" If there was one thing I hated, then it was when people refused to throw their chewing gum away. I felt disgusting, and, to top it all off, Harry was just standing there laughing at me.
"Harry!" I yelled at him. "Pull it off! Right now! Fucking hell." I was pretty sure that I was going to die of humiliation. This really was not my day. First I had gave money to a homeless person that hadn't even turned out to be homeless, then I had almost hit said homeless guy with my car, then we had gotten kicked out of CVS, then I had gotten catcalled, and now there was leftover gum stuck to my butt. Fuck my life, honestly.
"Are you letting me touch your butt?" he managed to choke out amidst all of his laughter. "Because, according to those guys over there, that's apparently a big deal. But like I said before, I'm pretty sure that it's also illegal. Since you're underage and all."
I was too tired to yell at him; instead I lifted my knee up so that I could hit him where it really hurt, but quick as a flash, he pushed it back down. "If you wanted to touch me there, all you had to do was ask, Lex," he winked at me.
There he went again! Was he flirting with me or not? Because I really didn't want him to be. He was weird and he fucking wore fedoras. I could never be with somebody like that. I don't think anyone could. "Just get it off," I grumbled angrily. I really needed a drink right now.
Harry's dark green eyes met mine for a moment and then, with a stupid smirk, he began to attempt to pull the gum off of my butt. However, this gum was obviously determined in sticking to my ass, which he very plainly informed me as if we were just discussing the weather.
"Try harder!" I scolded him. "Okay, it's a butt! Wow, magic. Get over it and get the fucking gum off before I cut off your balls."
He winced and then, after staring at my butt for a bit too long, he yanked it off. He held the stick of gum gingerly in his hands as if it were a prized possession, and then after giving me a wink, he tossed it in the trash.
"Thanks for letting me touch your butt," he smiled smugly at me. "It was a real honor."
I punched him in the arm, but refused to make any eye contact. He had been staring at me for a while now as if I had said something hilarious, and honestly, it was making me extremely uncomfortable. We stood there like that for a couple of minutes, listening to the rumbling of the wind and the loud laughter of the catcaller and his stupid friends. Fucking stoners.
"So," Harry said after what seemed to be an eternity of awkward silence between the two of us, his emerald eyes beginning to twinkle a little bit. "What about that motel?"
*****
The car ride to the motel had been fairly silent, since the two of us were both pretty tired by now, but the moment that we had pulled up to the inn, a disgusted look replaced the blank one that had previously been taking refuge on my face. I turned to look at Harry in the passenger's seat. "You have got to be kidding me."
The motel was, by far, the sleaziest place I had ever seen in my entire life. It looked like the kind of place where, after telling your parents that you were sleeping over at your friend's house, you would lose your virginity to your high school boyfriend. It was run down and two of the lights had gone out, so now it just read MTE 6. How picturesque.
"What were you expecting, the Ritz Carlton?" Harry asked sarcastically, already beginning to haul his suitcase out of the trunk. I quickly followed him to the back of the car, not wanting to be left alone in the dark in a place like this. "This was all I could think of on such short notice."
I waited until he had his luggage and then I took the chance to pull out mine. "How much is one night here?" I wanted to know. He hesitated and I looked at him closer. "Because that is all we're spending here. Just one night."
"I know, I know. And don't worry about it, I'll pay tonight," he assured me. "I mean, you're already driving me all the way to Boston, so it's the least I can do in return, right? Thanks so much for all of this, by the way. I don't know many people who would do that for some random guy they just met. I know I wasn't exactly the best companion in the beginning, but I promise you, we really are going to become good friends."
I glanced at him once he had finally finished with that whole monologue. "You're welcome. But listen, Harold, every time you bring up what I'm doing for you, it makes me regret my decision a little bit more. Because, seriously, I'm not usually a nice person. So if you want to get to Boston with me, then I recommend shutting up about all that."
He nodded slowly as he took in my orders. "All right. Got it."
I didn't bother answering him. Instead, I locked my car and began the walk of shame towards the motel entrance. Maybe I was being a tad overdramatic, but spending a night in a sleazy motel with someone who had a name like Harold Edward Styles sounded like something out of a horror movie. Just saying.
When Harry held open the door for me, after mumbling out a quick thanks, I took the opportunity to observe my surroundings. The lighting was terrible, and despite Harry murmuring in my ear that they were trying to create a seductive mood, I stuck to my original belief that they were just too cheap to actually pay for proper electricity. The foyer was quite cramped, with the welcome desk crammed uncomfortably close to a group of couches that, may I add, were all peeling like there was no tomorrow. I didn't dare sit down on one–who knew what kind of disease I could contract from that?
Harry grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me with him to the welcome desk. The guy standing behind it was pimply faced and wore huge Harry Potter-esque glasses. He had a phone pressed to his ear and he put his hand up for us to give him a minute as he continued his conversation.
You know, just in case you were wondering.
"No, ma'am. No. No, we certainly don't have any crabs at our motel! We're one of the best in the state." His face scrunched up in disgust, leaving me curious to know what the person on the other end was saying. "Oh, you mean that kind of...." Oh. "I don't understand how that could be our fault, ma'am. Well then, maybe next time you should check with somebody before you sleep with them!"
I took a deep breath and turned to Harry with a horrified expression on my face. I didn't want the clerk to hear us, so I stood on my tippy toes in an attempt to reach his ear. However, to my humiliation, I was too small to even reach him, which Harry must have noticed as well, judging by his obnoxious laughter.
Annoyed, I yanked his shoulder down so that we could be standing at the same height, and he responded with a loud yelp. "What the fuck, Lexi?" he hissed, ignoring the stares of everybody around us. "You could've dislocated my shoulder or something!"
I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. "Oh, shove it, Harry; you're really overestimating my strength here. Stop being such a baby about everything."
He was about to shoot something back at me, but just then, the clerk, who I guessed had gotten off the phone, cleared his throat awkwardly. Harry immediately straightened up and set his credit card on the desk. "One room for two, please."
The clerk stared at me suspiciously, like he was trying to figure something out about me. This went on for so long that finally, I just had to say something. "Is there something wrong?"
He sighed heavily and propped his elbows up on the desk, as if he was getting ready to have a deep conversation with his mother or something. This time, however, he chose to direct his gaze towards Harry. "Look, I know this isn't my business," he began, but I quickly cut him off.
"You're right. It's not," I interrupted him. "But if you really have to know, this is not what it looks like."
He patted my hand sympathetically, but even after I pulled it away, his expression remained the same. "Oh, but it is." He paused for dramatic flair. "Look, sweetheart, I know all about kids these days, all right? You're all in a rush to grow up, I get it. Or maybe you're the...the, I don't know, the rebellious type. Trying to get your parents to notice you for once, instead of only caring about work." He took a moment to push his glasses up his nose, but he was sweating so much, that they just slid right back down. "I know it's crazy, because I'm so successful right now"–Was he being sarcastic or something? Because I wouldn't exactly call working at a motel 'successful'. "–but I used to be exactly like you."
I stared at him blankly. What the fuck was he talking about? I was pretty sure that I was older than this oh-so-successful guy. I glanced up at Harry to help me out, he looked just as confused as I did, if not more.
"And how exactly were you just like me?" I asked the clerk slowly, trying to understand what the hell he was going on about.
He smiled sadly and then said, "I was desperate for attention."
My eyes widened at his words. "Excuse me?" Was it this hard for everybody else to just get a fucking motel room?
"But, contrary to popular belief, sleeping with older men will never get you anywhere," he continued solemnly, as if we were discussing politics in the Middle East. "If you come out of this place knocked up and say this guy–" He pointed to Harry, who looked as if he couldn't decide whether he should be angry or laughing. "–did it, trust me, that might get Daddy to notice you, but not in the right way."
That did it for Harry. He burst into laughter so hysterical that he began to slam his hands on the desk counter, attracting the attention of everybody in the foyer. Both the clerk and I stared at him with unamused expressions on our faces.
Once Harry had finally managed to calm down a bit, I took the opportunity to shove my driver's license in the clerk's–who, judging by his nametag, was a Paul–face. "Look closely at the date of birth, you fucking idiot," I snarled at him, my eyes narrowed. "I'm twenty! Jesus."
Paul flinched at my angry tone and as he read over my license, I noticed his face paling a little bit. Once he was done with it, he gingerly handed it over, as if he was a housewife dealing with a condom that she had found in her son's bedroom.
I was really fucking tired, all right?
"I'll just find you two a room then," he mumbled almost inaudibly, refusing to look either of us in the eye.
*****
''What the fuck is this?''
Harry glanced up from the screen of his cell phone and I watched as his eyes quickly traveled around the motel room. Shooting me a what can we do about it? look, he shrugged, "Hey, don't blame me. And besides, it's only for a night."
I glared at him. The room was microscopic, the air conditioning kept on making strange noises, and, oh, did I mention that there was only one bed? Now, I wasn't usually the complaining type. But there was no way that I was spending a night in bed with some guy I hadn't even known for twenty four hours yet. And I made that very clear to Harry.
Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be taking me too seriously. This was evident by the sly smirk that quickly curled up the corners of his bubblegum pink lips. "Come on, Lex," he teased, shooting me a wink. "You don't want to cuddle with me tonight?"
I clenched my teeth angrily and resisted the urge to throw something at him like, hmm, I don't know, a fucking lamp. I had no idea how he did it, but no matter what he said, he always had the ability to get on my nerves. I was beginning to wonder if maybe that was why he had started being so flirty all of a sudden–he knew how much it would irritate me, and he didn't have anything else to entertain him. "Fuck off," I spat angrily.
He just chuckled and watched me as I began to unzip my suitcase and take out my pajamas. I could feel his eyes on me, and that didn't exactly make me feel comfortable, so finally when it got to be too much, I swerved around in annoyance and snapped, "Is there something on my face that I'm not aware of? Could you stop looking at me like that, please?"
"Well, when you put it like that–"
"Oh, shove it, Harry." I rolled my eyes at him, wanting to slap that stupid smirk right off his face. "I'm going to the bathroom."
"Thanks for the update," he said dryly, cackling when I flipped him off irritably.
I took my time in the bathroom washing my body and shaving my legs, while my favorite songs began to play from my iPhone in the background. When 'Heart Out' by The 1975 came on, my favorite band, a loud banging on the door erupted from beside me.
"You have great music taste," I heard Harry's husky voice drawl from the other side of the door, "but hurry up. You're not the only person who needs the bathroom."
"All right, all right, I'm almost done," I told him. A light pink tint spread in my cheeks when I realized that we were conversing while I was only in my bra and underwear. I knew that he couldn't see me, obviously, but it was still embarrassing to think about.
Once I had changed into my pajamas, which consisted of a gray tank top with an owl on it and black and white checkered drawstring shorts, I unlocked the door and pushed my way past Harry, who had been waiting on the other side. His knowing smirk returned as his eyes traveled up and down my body. "Cute pjs," he grinned at me, and then, before I could get in a word, he had strolled into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.
Fucking asshole.
After inspecting the covers for any insects or, God forbid, rodents, which took a good five to seven minutes, I hesitantly curled up under the covers at the end of the right side of the bed. We'll figure the sleeping arrangements out when he comes out of the bathroom, I told myself in an attempt to calm myself down. So, trying to distract myself, I grabbed my phone from the bedside table where it had previously been charging.
I clicked on my Instagram app, but, of course, there was no Internet. Why was I not surprised? I guessed that I could go down the hall and ask for the Wi-Fi password, but there was no way that I was talking to Paul again. Also, now that I was in such a comfortable position–well, as comfortable as you could be in a motel–I was too lazy to actually get up.
"Well, this looks inviting."
I rolled my eyes at Harry's sarcastic tone as I sat up and propped my pillow up so that I could press my back against it. "The perfect domestic picture," I responded, my voice just as sardonic.
He laughed and that was when I noticed that the lower half of his body was clad only in a pair of tight black Calvin Klein boxers, which caused me to gulp a little bit. "Is it really that hard to put some pants on?" I snapped, willing my voice not to shake.
He pointed to my exposed legs and shot back, "Obviously not."
I pursed my lips and then said, "Well, you definitely know how to make a girl crazy."
Pointing down to his boxers, Harry smirked, "Thank him." For some reason, he found this particular joke hilarious, and I rolled my eyes again as he burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. God, and he thought that I was the one who was a teenager. He had the crude sense of humor of a fifteen year old boy.
"All one and a half inches of him," I mumbled under my breath, but he still managed to hear me.
"You wanna see for yourself?" he winked at me.
I stared at him in shock. What was up with him? Why was he suddenly being so flirty all of a sudden? He had definitely not been like this earlier–I couldn't believe that I was thinking this, but I was beginning to prefer the loud, pun-telling Harry that I had met in the morning. Sure, he was annoying as fuck, but I would take that any day over flirty Harry, someone who made me want to rip my hair out.
"Do you do anything besides rolling your eyes?" he asked me, as if he was posing an incredibly important question.
"Do you do anything besides be a douche bag?" I snarled.
"Not really," he grinned at me.
I was about to roll my eyes again, but then I remembered his previous question, so I resorted to just pressing my lips together irritably. My eyes widened as he began to climb into the bed beside me, and I quickly exclaimed, "Objection! Objection! You can't sleep here."
Harry gave me a weird look. "And why is that?" he asked slowly, his lips twitching a little bit. "Where should I sleep then? The floor?"
"Yes, actually." I turned my back on him as I pressed my head to the pillow. "I don't feel comfortable sharing a bed with some guy that I just met."
"Yeah, and I don't feel comfortable sleeping on the floor of a motel that's probably infested with cockroaches!"
"Life sucks," I sang out, not even bothering to turn around. I had assumed that the conversation was over and that he would take his pillow down to the floor, but my expectations had proved to be wrong when I felt the mattress take a slight dip as he lowered his body into it.
"If I'm going to let you sleep here, then you better be quiet and keep your distance from me," I hissed at him, finally giving in and turning around so that we could face each other. A disturbed look replaced my previous expression as I noticed how close in proximity our bodies were to each other. But I knew that if we moved any more, we would have fallen off of the bed.
"Yes, ma'am.
I rolled my eyes and let out a loud yelp as Harry poked his fingers into my ribs. "You did it again!" he exclaimed. "God, you really do have a problem."
"No," I seethed angrily, "you do. I'd really appreciate it if you didn't touch me. Now, if you'd excuse me, I'd really like to go to sleep right now."
He chuckled but didn't say another word. Somewhat pleased, I turned back around and sank my head into the pillow, but not before I heard another complaint.
"It's too hot in here."
"Is the air conditioning on?" he wanted to know.
"Yes!" I cried. "Now shut the fuck up and go to sleep! Jesus!"
"Actually, it's just me."
My foot quickly found his legs and I angrily kicked him in the shin in an attempt to get him to shut up. Unfortunately, this didn't do much good, because instead of closing his mouth like I had hoped him to, he smirked, "If you wanted to cuddle, all you had to do was ask, Lex."
I turned around and smiled shyly at him. "Well, maybe just a little bit," I said, biting my lip nervously.
He choked out a laugh. "Unbelievable." But he moved his arms towards my waist anyway. However, right before he could touch me, I kicked him in the chest just hard enough that he would learn his lesson.
Harry swore loudly and glared at me angrily. "You have fucking issues, Lexi."
I didn't bother answering him, instead I just turned back to my side and smiled into my pillow. There. That should teach him not to mess with Lexi Reed.