O C T O B E R
I have a little bit of a crush on Harry Styles. I was brought to that conclusion on a bright sunny day about a year ago, when I couldn't stop smiling after he left. I could lie to you about it, as I do to my friend Amy, who asks me about him every two days. But I reckon we should make that clear from the start.
It isn't like I planned it. I swear it just happened. In fact, if we're going to blame someone, we should blame him. The guy is just too nice (and handsome, if I'm being totally honest) for his own good. It was him who walked into Memory Lane like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he had been coming into this very vintage store since he was little and was just making yet another visit.
Let me tell something, he hadn't. Because if he had, I'd known. And if I knew, I wouldn't have been taken by surprise and acted like a fool.
Memory Lane is my aunt's pride and joy. She opened the store when she was thirty years old, with a toddler to care for and no job in sight. I've always admired her for having the courage to do something by herself, with no guarantee it would work out and, if we're honest, a very high risk of failure. Fortunately, she was successful and now, twenty years later, she's thrilled to have me help out on afternoons so she can take care of her grandson, Max (who's the happiest and cutest child in earth and, also, my godson).
Right. Back to Harry.
What I mean is, if he had been coming in, my aunt would've told me. She's a huge X Factor fan and has known about him since he was on it. Also, Danny Jones from McFLY once came in and she talked about that day for months, repeating over and over again how awesome it was that her store had the same name as one of their songs. I already knew that, as my first concert was one of theirs, so I just pretended to be surprised for as long as I could to keep her enthusiasm going. The point is, she would have raved about it and I would have been prepared.
Instead, on that rainy day in early 2016, I had my nose buried in a book and a pencil pressed hard to my forehead (I am, unfortunately, sure of that because it's my thing – I've been studying like that since I was a child) for about fifteen minutes before I realized there was someone else in the store. Granted, I only noticed because he cleared his throat to get my attention. When I looked up, he was closer than expected and I was startled for a second, which resulted in a frightened little jump, an oh sound, and my pencil falling on the floor with a loud thud. Harry was too nice to laugh at me, apologizing instead for being too quiet (that's what I mean when I say he's too nice), and I probably blushed as red as humanly possible. I don't even think my reaction had anything to do with his celebrity status. No, it was honestly because he was the most gorgeous human being I had ever laid my poor eyes on and, thus, I wasn't prepared for the impact.
Oblivious to my racing heart, Harry proceeded to ask me if we happened to have any old Rolling Stones tour t-shirts and I could have cried when I told him we didn't. He didn't seem too bothered, though, and proceeded to wander around the store, telling me one of his friends had recommended Memory Lane and he was glad they did. I probably muttered something affirmative (which I do not have any memory of) and he found a few knick knacks to buy. That day, he said goodbye with a smile and I probably didn't say a coherent sentence until the day after.
That was how my little infatuation began and, to be honest, I didn't even notice until I realized I was looking forward to seeing him again. A few months later, after following him on Instagram and half believing he wouldn't ever come back, I found a t-shirt from The Rolling Stones 1975's tour of the americas and saved it religiously anyway, just in case.
With a recent haircut, Harry came back to Memory Lane five months later, when my hope had long died.
From that moment onwards, he kept coming back when I least expected him to.
&&
Today's not a good day.
It all started with a pink sweater. I'm not a "wear pink on wednesdays" kind of girl, but when October 3rd falls on a Wednesday, how can you not make it a thing? Even if only to instagram it and make your little cousin think you're the coolest (which she definitely already thinks, so I need to keep it up). My baby pink sweater was, then, set to be worn since last week - it was planned, it was decided, it was like the rest of my wardrobe didn't even exist. So, when I put it on this morning and saw the huge stain on my left sleeve, I wanted to cry. I honestly still don't know how it got there.
Then, with my red sweater on and ready to leave the flat, my weather app told me the probability of rain was 5%. Now, I think you can agree when I say that's low - the leave-the-umbrella-home kind of low. Unfortunately, my blonde hair was soaked and sticking to my face before I even got to the subway.
Finally, when I got home from my thesis meeting, more than ready to take a warm bath, the first thing I noticed was Honey – the little puppy I got not even a month ago – hadn't ran to me. She was not in her grey bed next to the couch (her usual spot) and her food was still in her bowl (a huge warning sign). With my heart threatening to jump out of my chest, I found her curled on my side of bed, whining when she spotted me on the door. Now, maybe she was just having an off day like me, but she hadn't been acting like her playful self the night before either. With a sigh, I called my aunt and asked if I could take the puppy with me to the store, promising she would behave nicely. If I'm completely honest, I don't think she was thrilled - but she said yes nevertheless.
Now, a few hours later, I let out a tired breath, thanking God I'm fifteen minutes away from closing up. I'm still in a bit of a mood since this morning, so having to make small talk to each customer this afternoon tired me down more than any other day. It also doesn't help that Memory Lane is now a stopping spot for every damn tourist. Truth is, I only have myself to blame and, even though I normally beam with pride, today it makes me even madder. Between decorating the store in a new style every month and creating the most aesthetically pleasing Instagram for it (it had a few thousand followers within a couple of weeks and they're still rapidly growing), the number of customers keeps on increasing.
I'm organizing a pile of books in the front when Honey whimpers from the back room where I left her with a toy. She's been like this all afternoon, so I stop what I'm doing (once more) and go behind the counter, opening up the door that leads to a tiny office and letting her come to me. She takes a few seconds but then decides to come out. Recognizing I'm probably done for the day, I kneel so I can reach my dog properly, petting her head softly. "What's going on with you, love?" I whisper, letting her crawl into my lap for a cuddle. I let out a giggle, deciding it's probably better to finish the book pile after closing up for the day anyway.
Needless to say, I'm less than pleased when I hear the door open a few minutes later.
I let them wander around for a bit as I need to recharge enough energy to put yet another smile on my face. Despite feeling irritated towards anything that moves, I'm also feeling worry as I've never felt before. This new-found responsibility I have for this tiny being in my lap was overwhelming from the start but seeing her slightly sick is not doing wonders for my well-being either. I just want to go to the vet and put all my worries to rest.
I sigh, rubbing her belly one last time. "C'mon now, I'll be with you in a second." I whisper, giving her a little kiss and placing her down. She turns her face slightly to the left as if she's begging me not to go. My heart tightens.
Damn dog.
It takes all in me to take my eyes off her soft golden hair. I look up, only to see a grinning face peeking through the counter.
"God, you scared me," I hiss, taking my right hand to my chest. "We've gotta stop meeting like this!"
"Sorry, sorry" Harry chuckles, pausing as I get myself on my feet. Wearing a grey sweater and an orange beanie on his head, he leans on the counter carelessly, as if he's been in that spot his whole life (while I know for a fact he hasn't visited us for a few months). He has an amused expression on and, just like that, I feel my heartbeat increase its pace. "I was wondering where you were and then I heard you – I see you finally got yourself a puppy!" He recalls a previous conversation, when I mentioned I was thinking about getting a dog. I smile and we both look at the little one, now sitting and looking up to both of us.
"Yes, I got her a few weeks ago." I smile, thinking back on the day I took her home with me; my house is a lot less lonely now I have her there with me. "She's not even three months old. Do you want to meet her?"
"Of course," Harry drops his phone on the counter and makes his way around it quickly. "What's her name?"
"Honey." I grin, kneeling down next to him. "Honey, this is Harry – he's nice so please don't bite him."
Harry laughs and takes her in his arms. Honey immediately lies her head on his leg and closes her eyes, sighing softly when he pets her head. "Uh, are you sure she bites?"
"I know it's hard to believe when she's like that," I acknowledge my dog's perfect behaviour. I blame it on whatever's bugging her lately, because I know for sure that, on a normal day, she'd be biting on his hand by now. "But lets just say her definition of playing and biting is still a little mixed up. She does like to cuddle in the evenings, though, which is great."
"I mean, it's hard to imagine her biting me when she's like this." Harry laughs, adjusting himself so he's sitting with his back to the wall. In this new position, he can face me properly. "Is it like you imagined? You seemed really excited last time we talked."
"It's better," I murmur, adjusting my own back so it hits the wooden door behind me. "She makes great company."
"I imagine she does." Harry agrees. "My sister has a cat. She told me it made her house feel more like a home."
"I agree, especially because I'm here by myself. What 'bout you? Ever thought of getting a pet?"
"I think about it sometimes," he answers, dropping his eyes to Honey for a second. "It'd probably be nice. But I travel a lot, it wouldn't be the best."
"Oh," I suddenly remember who I'm talking to. "Yeah."
I stop there, though, because even though we're sitting on this floor and he's petting my dog, I wouldn't say Harry Styles and I are friends – and I certainly don't feel comfortable in exploring the restrictions his job imposes on him.
Though he's always been nice, we only got talking by his third visit to the store and that was because my aunt was here. I was too startled on his first visit and, then, too shy on his second. But my aunt's above his charm, so she rapidly pulled him into an hour conversation about his favourite old items to collect, Nick Grimshaw (she's strangely aware of his friendships) and the good things that come from fame. Fortunately, a few minutes in, I broke out of my shell and was able to put my two cents in their discussion, so Harry learned a few things about me too (how I moved to London in 2013 and how I'm studying Interior Design).
My aunt was obviously an ice breaker and, for that, I'm thankful. The fourth time, Harry started the conversation asking me more about my aunt and how the store started; we spent a good half an hour talking about her. By then, I was felt confident enough to ask him how he had been doing – he was on tour (in fact, he had done a show in London the night before) and he was tired, but it was all good. He returned the favour and I told him the course was doing my head in but it'd all be fine. His last visit had been three months ago. After I broke out of my shell again, we had chatted about the tv series we'd been watching and I mentioned my desire to have a puppy.
So, yes, we've had conversations about life in general, but we aren't friends.
"Anyway," I change the subject; after all, my aunt doesn't pay me to sit on the floor with the customers. "I'm sure you didn't come in just to meet my puppy. What're you looking for today?"
"Hm, I was just passing by and decided to look around." He gets himself up, with Honey now curled up in his arm, and shows me what he brought to the counter. I didn't even notice he had something else with him. "You outdid yourself this time, Ellie."
"Oh, I see you've found it!" I grin, looking at the Stevie Nicks shirt I saved up two weeks after he last visited. We kind of have a secret hiding place, where I put the stuff I save him and he goes there to find them (my aunt probably knows about it too, but since it technically is still up for sale, she hasn't said anything). "It's got a few holes on it, but I figured you wouldn't mind."
"You were right, I don't." He states, examining it for a few seconds. I can see his dimple and it's actually improving my mood a little. "I really thought I was going to catch you off guard!"
"Truth is, I wasn't expecting you for another few months," I agree. "but I also like to be prepared. It's been there for a while now."
"Thank you." I smile back at him when he curls his lips upwards. He drops the shirt on the counter again, still admiring it. "This is really great."
"No need to thank me." I shrug with ease. "My aunt, however, should give me a raise. I keep making the customers happy."
"Oh, you do this for everyone, then?"
He's teasing. I know he is. I roll my eyes and grin, but I also think I'm blushing a little and I hope to God he doesn't notice. "Don't be jealous, Harry."
"To think I believed I was special." Harry snickers, bending down his head to whisper something to Honey. I can't catch exactly what he says, but it sounds a lot like "she's lying, isn't she?".
"Nope, this store is full of hiding spots. That's the main job here, keeping track of which is which." I tease and he gets it, because he shakes his head and laughs.
I realize I keep smiling when he turns around and wanders around the store, one arm with Honey in it and a finger picking on his lower lip as if he's in deep thought. I decide I better make myself useful and go towards the book pile I was arranging before.
"My friend sent me your Instagram a while ago," Harry comments from his spot, where he is admiring a decorative bicycle. "I had already noticed the store's layout is always different, but I didn't realize you guys do it monthly. Is it you?"
"Yeah," I look up, catching his eye. "it seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Is it not anymore, then?"
I shrug. Truth be told, I love this store like it is my own but it's hard to come up with new layouts every month when you have a considerable amount of course work to do. "It's still exciting but it's not as easy to conciliate with school as it was before. It'll be even harder when I start my internship next year."
"I'm sure Elena will understand." He refers to my aunt. "If it means anything, you're doing a great job. It definitely keeps people interested."
I smile. "Thanks."
"I was talking to my friend the other day and we both agree this is one of the best vintage stores in London," He adds. "Your aunt just has the best eye."
"I'll be sure to pass that on." I nod, agreeing with his point.
"She once told me she makes a lot of buying trips, does she still do that?"
I nod. "Yeah, she'll just look out for the most random stuff and bring it back to England."
"That's so cool."
Honey whimpers on his arms, interrupting our conversation, and I bite my lip, immediately feeling my lips turn into a frown. Harry looks down at her and then looks at me. "I don't think she's been feeling alright today." I offer with a sad smile. "Might have to visit the vet, actually."
He looks down at his watch quickly. "Is it still open?"
"It closes at eight. It's not even seven yet, right?" I confirm the time on my phone. I realize there's two white iPhones with pink cases on the counter and I bring mine a little to the side (I also smile because hey, we both have great taste).
"It's past your closing time, isn't it? 'm the worst." He seems to decide he won't look for anything else this evening, coming back towards the counter and handing me the t-shirt. "I'll take this, then. I'll come back another day for more."
"You can look around now, I don't mind."
"No, of course not. You have to go check out what's happening with the little one," I accept Honey when he hands her over to me so he can find his wallet. "That's the priority here."
"I do." I keep her in my arms and give Harry his bag, making sure I don't need to give him any change. "Thank you."
"I'm the one who should be thanking you," he nods to the bag, a smile on his face. "Well, I'm staying in England for a bit so I'll see you soon, Ellie." He pets Honey on her forehead on last time and goes to the door. "Bye Honey." He turns as if he can't believe he forgot the other being in the room, waving slightly.
"Bye Harry." I say in a weird voice, saying goodbye with Honey's paw.
Harry laughs before closing the door behind him.
I know something's wrong when my thumb doesn't immediately unlock my phone after I finish tidying everything up. I'm distracted with Honey, though, so it takes me an extra couple of seconds to realize the screensaver I'm looking at isn't mine. Instead of the picture I took last Sunday of my puppy with a cute pink bandana on, I'm staring at Harry Styles holding a baby.
My mind goes blank for a second before realization hits me - Harry just took the wrong phone.
I press my thumb again, as if this phone will miraculously turn back into mine. Immediately, I run towards the front door, even though Harry has been gone for, at least, twenty minutes. I look to both sides of the street, looking for a black Range Rover (he had been driving one last time I saw him) but, unsurprisingly, I don't see anything, so I go back inside.
The phone is locked, but I can see he has his data turned on, so I call Siri and hope to God it works. Unlike all the other times I've talked to Siri, as soon as she responds, I go straight to business. I don't remember if she calls a number if you dictate it, but I try it anyway and, within seconds, I'm ringing myself.
I wait for a few seconds before someone picks up. "'ello?" It's him.
"Harry?" I grab the phone with both hands. "Hi, it's Ellie, from Memory Lane!" I add, just in case he needs the reference. "I think- I think we just switched phones?"
"We did?" He seems confused. He probably didn't use his phone until now.
"I noticed we had the same case earlier so I moved my phone closer to the cash register but, uh, I guess you didn't notice and grabbed mine instead of yours." I try to explain, even though he might think I did it on purpose. I mean, could he think that? Did he know me well enough to know I would never do something like that? "I was going to call the vet and noticed this wasn't my screensaver."
"I have two phones, I use the pink one for work stuff – I was talking to a producer when I came into the store." I think he's relieving his steps as a way of understanding how this could have happened. "How are you calling me- well, I mean, you, right now?"
"I used Siri to call my number." I explain. "Smart, eh?"
He laughs. "Indeed. I guess you need your phone back?"
I'm nodding even though he can't see me. "Please tell me you're still close?"
He pauses and I just know he's not anywhere near Memory Lane anymore. "Actually... I'm heading home to Holmes Chapel for a week or two." What? I try to control my reaction, but I swear he notices a change in my breathing because he rushes to calm me. "I could drive back but I still have three hours to go and I'm pretty sure my mom's making me dinner." He seems to stop to think while I nervously bite my nails. "Would you- uh, would you mind using mine for a bit, maybe?"
"But- what about you?"
"I have two, I won't need that one. I'll keep yours safely and, since I'm the one on my way to Manchester now, you'll use mine? Does that sound okay to you?"
"I mean... that's fine, yeah, but- are you sure you're okay with me going through your phone? I mean, 'm not going to snoop around but I'd still be using it."
"I have some pictures in there and, yeah, some song ideas... hm, I think the apps are locked for precaution." He makes a pause, as if he's just now thinking of the implications that come from me using his phone. "I'll ask you not to listen. But I believe I know you enough to know you won't be selling those to tabloids, even if you do listen to them. So, do you want my passcode or not?"
"Are you sure?" I ask again because this phone suddenly feels like it weights five extra pounds. "I can drive up there to get mine, if you want."
"You're insane," he shuts my idea down right away. "That'd take you all night. You're going to put my passcode in, call your vet and use my phone for a few days, alright?"
I consider asking again if he's sure, but I need the phone and he doesn't seem keen on turning back to sort this all out. So I hang up and type the four zeros he tells me to. I'm met with yet another picture, this time of a crowd.
I sigh, hoping to God Amy does not text me before I do. She keeps on asking if Harry's come over and, even though I laugh each time and tell her to bugger off, I don't want him to see that. Then again, I also don't want Amy to know I have Harry's phone as she would make it a thing.
I don't want this to be a thing.
So, I cross my fingers and hope for the best.
&&
I'm snuggled up on my couch with Honey's nose on my neck when the phone buzzes on the coffee table where I deliberately put it. I decided over dinner that distance was best. Even though I logged off his Whatsapp without even a little glimpse at any of his conversations (and, let me tell you, he had been talking to Chris Martin that morning), as well as his Instagram and e-mail, and switched them all up to mine, there's still some dangerous stuff on that device I'm not ready to see.
For instance, the gallery. Eventually, I'll have to take a photo and, then, go to the album to see it. The thing is, I'm afraid there'll be all kinds of personal photos. So right now, distance is best. It's cute to have a crush when you don't know the person; it gets weird when you suddenly are close to them.
Except now it's buzzing and I have to check if it's something important. Honey's asleep on me so I try not to move too much while I gather it from the white surface.
Hiiiii, did you make it to the vet? - H
Now, the plan was to get away from him. Not to start texting. I look up to the ceiling as if asking God why is this happening to me. He could test me all He wanted, though, because when I make my mind up, I generally act accordingly – and this crush on Harry has to end tonight.
Hi. Yes, I have! It's an otitis in a very early stage, she'll be fine in a few days
That's great! You must be relieved, uh?
Yes!!
Did I look as worried as I felt?
Probably more, I thought you were gonna start crying when she cried
I'm sorry
She's like my baby, i can't deal with her being sick
Hopefully she'll be fine soon
The vet said to give it a week max
You got home safe, then?
Yeah, thanks. Just sitting with my mom now
That must be nice!
Def feels good to be back for a bit
A friend of yours texted you earlier
Do you want me to turn your phone off?
Amy? I type as I close my eyes in fear.
That's her
She asked if today was your lucky day
Oh, I'm sorry
Turn the phone off please
Now
Hahaha ok, it's done
So... was it?
I got rained on and paid a visit to the vet, i don't think it was all that lucky
anyway, I'm going to bed now
g'night harry!
Night Ellie x
&&
I'm watching last night's episode of Grey's Anatomy when the phone buzzes next to me. Honey lifts her head slightly, eyeing me before giving up and going back to resting it on my leg. She's much better now, which makes me much more relaxed to leave her alone when I go to work.
I already suspect it to be Harry, since he's been texting me every day. Initially, he'd ask me about Honey and then the conversation progressed from that. However, it has been a week and yesterday I told him she was biting me every morning which had to mean she was completely fine so, today, he opted to ask if my thesis had been delivered on time (I've been stressing during the past week and it inevitably came up during our conversations) and then we talked during the day about what we were doing (he was basically living on his mom's couch while I made small talk with foreign customers).
I don't expect him to send two pictures, though. I zoom in the first, trying to make sense of the scrabble board I'm seeing. It was obviously taken in a second so no one would notice and I can see two blurry arms I bet belong to his mother and a hand full of rings that, judging by the perfectly manicured nails, also belongs to a woman. The second photo, naturally, are his remaining letters. They come with a Help me!!!! underneath.
I can practically hear him scream it and I let out a laugh. Honey lifts her head again and looks up at me. "Don't look at me like that." I eye her, petting her head for a second as I think how am I supposed to help my new found friend.
QUETZALS, I finally offer a word. If anyone asks, it's the national bird of Guatemala
Thx
You're a genius
No, i simply know how to use the internet
But thanks
I'm flattered you decided to ask me instead of googling it
Do you think i'm that smart?
Smarter than me yeah
You wrote sign of the times, that's pretty smart
Ahh, thanks
Didn't know you listened to any of my songs
Eh, just that one really
Liar
You just don't want to admit it
Just focus on your game!
I already won
My sister's fuming
I love it
Ahahah, you're something else, Styles
Thank you?
&&
It's been two weeks since we've swapped phones. Harry texted this morning informing me he left Holmes Chapel, bringing my phone with him (which comes in handy since I've ran out of excuses on why I can only speak with my mom via Whatsapp and Facebook).
It's ten to six p.m. and Harry's nowhere to be seen. I look at my watch and sigh. I've been at Memory Lane since this morning and I'm dying to get out for fresh air. I've cleaned all that I had to clean and organized all that was out of place. I'm ready to go, but I can't because he's yet to make an appearance.
My aunt said I was in a weird mood this morning. I didn't want to agree with her, but the truth is I'm finding it hard to cope with the stress that rushed over me when I delivered my course thesis last week. I'm an over-thinker, so all I do while at home is think about its presentation and how my upcoming internship is going to be like. That's why I came in earlier to the store today (and why I'll probably come tomorrow).
I'm watching a youtube video on how to teach dogs to sit while applying some much-needed chapstick on my lips, when Harry decides to walk in.
"Hi!" he grins as soon as he spots me. His eyes linger for an extra second on the melon chapstick in my hand and then on my lips, settling for my light eyes as he steps towards me with open arms. I quickly put the phone away and accept the quick hug he offers, noticing for the first time just how close in height we are. "All good?"
"Yes," I nod as I take a step back. Before we go any further, however, I immediately hold out my hand suggestively. "First things first, give me my phone back."
"Jeez," He laughs. "For a second I thought you were happy to see me."
"I am! But I'm also dying to have my own apps and pictures back!"
"Here." He takes it from his jacket's pocket and places it on my open palm. "Now, mine."
I take the phone from my pocket and give him his. "I've deleted all the pictures I took after I e-mailed them to me. Which were majorly of Honey so it's really your loss."
"There's no doubt there." I grin, turning my phone on as he talks. I think he's doing the same until I notice him moving to the side, "Can I have a look around?"
"Of course," I nod. "I think I'm going to close up anyway, if you don't mind."
"Sure, go ahead."
He's looking at a few books as I turn the open sign to closed. Then, I go up to the counter and hop on it, scrolling through Honey's photos from the last month. Sometimes I like to go through them because she was the cutest puppy when I got her. I remember a few minutes later to check on the few texts I received before I could let people know not to text me. However, I want to dig a hole and bury myself in there when I read Amy's texts from October 3rd. I'm not breathing as I read them, one followed by the other.
So, was today your lucky day?
Did Mr. Sign-of-the-Times finally show up again?
I feel my cheeks burn as I realize that he read that. There is no way he only read the first notification – they were delivered at the exact same minute.
I still don't know what to do when he materializes in front of me.
"Everything alright?" I want to slap the cute frown from his face. That probably wouldn't make me feel better but if he hadn't lied to me, I would have sorted this mess out two weeks ago, from a distance.
"Yes, yes," I desperately try to think of something to get his focus off of me, as I'm probably as red as an eight-year old's cheeks after being left alone with their mother's blush. "Uh, you're not going to look in your spot?"
He looks confused for a bit but decides to overlook my sudden nervousness. "I thought you didn't have time to get me anything, I was trying to make you a favour!"
"I told you I like to be prepared!" I hop off the counter, almost falling on top of him on the process. He holds his hands out but I walk right past them. "I feel like this one is a big risk, though, so you can tell me the truth."
Instead of answering me, he walks right to the corner of the store and gets on one knee to open up the desk door (my aunt will never sell that desk as she loves it so much, so I knew that was the safest thing to hide Harry's stuff in).
"It barely fit there." I comment as he takes the old vinyl player out. "The previous owner told us it still works, but I think it's pretty cool even if you use it as a piece of decoration."
"I can't believe I'm going to lose you next January," Harry jokes after a moment, even though I think he's only half joking. He knows I'm going to start my internship and my hours at Memory Lane are going to drop enormously. "Look what I'm gonna be losing!"
"I'll probably still be here on weekends. I'll keep hiding the good stuff and you'll find them eventually – you just won't see me." I shrug. "I'll tell you something, I almost stole that one for me."
"Oh?" He seems surprised. "You can have it, if you want."
"No, no." I shake my head. "I have two already – a vintage one I got from my grandad and a recent one. That's why I thought I'd save it for the next best person."
"Aw, thank you." He smiles big, realizing that person is him. "Also, going back to what you said before - we're friends now, so I don't need to come up here to see you anymore. Right?" He asks as he takes the record player to the counter.
I open my mouth to say yes but I end up nodding instead. Two weeks ago, I was hoping he'd come in before January so I could see him one last time and kiss my crush goodbye. Now, an accidental phone swap after, we're friends (and I still need to kiss that crush goodbye, preferably as quickly as possible).
I'm closing up the cash register for the day, after he's paid for his things, when he suddenly asks, "Do you, hm, want to grab a coffee, maybe?"
A part of me thinks I've heard him wrong, so I turn my head to face him. He's now holding the record player effortlessly, his eyes locked on me as he waits for my answer. My mind goes back to those texts and I wonder why he's asking me out, or even calling me a friend. Still, I don't feel like going home when I can spend more time with him.
"Yeah, sure." I put the jacket on and grab my handbag. "Go ahead, I have to turn off the lights." He does what I tell him, waiting by the door until I get there and lock everything up. "Where do you want to go?"
"My car, for starters. I need to put this bad boy on my trunk."
"That makes sense."
I walk behind him as he crosses the street to get to a grey Audi parked a few meters down. "Damn it, I can't get the key while holding this."
"Do you have them in your pocket?" I offer my help, signalling to his jacket's left pocket (where I saw him put his wallet). "This one?" I sign to the right one when he shakes his head.
"Uh, my jeans."
I swallow before I drag my eyes to his own. He doesn't look bothered. In fact, he turns a little so I can access his bottom better. I'm probably two shades darker when I lift his (heavy) jacket and dig his keys out as swiftly as I can.
I mean, I barely touched his butt.
"Open the truck, please." I do as I'm told while pretending he can't notice my flamed cheeks. It's a curse I've had to deal with since I was a child but I don't think it'll ever stop being awkward, so I use my long hair as a sort of shield. Within a minute, his hands are free and he's taken the keys from my hands. "So, where do you want to go?"
"You choose."
We let a comfortable silence settle as we walk side by side on the sidewalk. I point to two coffee shops but Harry shakes his head both times, so we end up walking for about ten minutes. I don't know if he has a specific one in mind or if he's just looking for a quiet space, but I'm enjoying the company so I don't complain.
I'm thinking how I'm feeling much better since he's appeared on the store when Harry suddenly holds my arm and points to the other side of the road. We both cross the street and I sigh when we're taken by the warmth of the coffee shop he's chosen.
"I made you walk quite a bit in the cold." Even though he's grinning, I can see the apology. "There's just too many people everywhere."
"That usually happens in London, yes." I grin as I follow him to a booth in the back. "I get it, though. It's fine."
"Thank you."
A waitress comes to us and I order a hot chocolate and a muffin, while Harry asks for a water.
"Didn't you ask me out for coffee?"
"Didn't you order a hot chocolate?"
"I don't drink coffee, so hot chocolate's acceptable. Are you telling me we've walked this far for you to drink a glass of water, though?" I laugh.
He shakes his head as if I'm being impossible, though his eyes are shining with amusement. "I can't drink another coffee today, I've had way too much already. Will you stop calling me out if I ask for a muffin?"
I chuckle. "Yes, you've got to make the walk worth something!"
"The coffee was just a means to an end, anyway." He shrugs, smiling, proceeding to ask a passing waitress for his muffin. I don't have time to process what he just said before he turns back to me. "So, how's the little one?"
He means Honey.
"She's great, I took her for a little walk this morning and she jumped in all the leaves she could find."
The same waitress comes back with our requests and I eagerly accept my hot chocolate. I'm sipping to test the temperature when I notice he suddenly has his phone directed up at my face. "What're you doing?"
"Can I take your picture? I like to have pictures in my contacts," he smiles, clicking away before I even take the mug away from my face. He turns his phone to me so I can see the picture he took. Though the mug is hiding my lips and part of my nose, the picture captures how my eyes are shinning under the lamp above us and I think my rosy cheeks give me a little more life. "You look really nice."
My lips curve upwards and I thank him, tucking the shorter ends of my hair behind my ears. I've cut it a few weeks ago, thinking long bangs looked cute, but now I don't think it's worth it, since they keep getting in my face. I don't think I'm cutting them again soon.
I drink a little more, as he messes with his phone (I assume he's setting my picture up). It's the quiet moment that brings back the memory of Amy's texts and, though I really don't want to, I can't help but feel like I should address them.
"Harry?" My voice comes out lower than expected (although I can easily blame it on the uncertainty I'm feeling), but he looks up from his phone right away. "Uh, I've read Amy's texts." I confess, looking down at my muffin as I speak the next words. "I know she mentioned you, and I feel like I should explain that."
"You don't."
"No, I do- I do." I insist. It's not like I want to have this conversation. But I also don't want him to think I had this master plan to hang out with him. "Like, I know it must sound pretty bad. We swapped phones even though I noticed we had the same case and then my friend asks about you. But it's not like that," he seems like he wants to comment but I stop him. "I've told her about you once. You were a guest on the Graham Norton's show and she said something about all celebrities being asses and I mentioned you were nice. Well, I think she misunderstood what I meant because she now believes I'm in love with you and asks me every day if you've come in." Harry's laughing before I can finish. "I'm serious, it's not funny!"
"She thinks you're in love with me because you said I was nice?"
"Well, I mean, that's partly my fault." I'm probably as pink as they come, even though he's clearly finding it all hilarious. "I might have said you were handsome, ok? And like, I never comment on guys. Ever. So she took it the wrong way."
"You don't ever comment on guys, but you said I'm handsome?" His grin only gets bigger. I don't know how I got myself in this position but I want out. "I'm flattered, Ellie Frost."
"Oh God." I hide my face on my hands.
&&
Do you have plans for tomorrow?
Yes, walking honey and watching netflix. Why?
Can I join?
On the dog walk or the netflix session?
Both?
We could also squeeze lunch in between
Does that sound good to you?
&&
I'm putting my sneakers on when the bell buzzes. Before I can get up from the couch, Honey's running towards the door barking. I laugh, still amused even if she does it every time. With one bare foot, I open up the building door and take the little time I have left to put the other shoe on. The bell's buzzing again just when I'm coming back from getting Honey's leash from its drawer.
Harry's on the other side of the door, black shorts with black tights underneath and a grey hoodie. You'd think we're dressed to jog instead of walking an almost four-month-old puppy, as I'm in a pair of leggings and a hoodie myself, but I guess we both opted for comfortable.
Not like I'd agree to go for a jog. My body may seem athletic, but it's all down to my metabolism. I'm really more of a couch potato rather than a gym rat.
"Hello there." I greet him with a brief hug, stepping aside so he can come in for a moment. "I'm sorry the house's a bit of a mess, as you can see, someone's excited," I point to the tiny one, still barking, and Harry laughs. "She's been like that since I got up. She's used to going out right after I have breakfast so she's passed her time by getting all her toys out as I put them away." He gets down to pet her as I complain, quickly realizing she's not the same puppy he met a few weeks ago, running around instead of letting him hold her. I point it out as I grab two bottles of water from the cabinet. "See? Maybe you'll get lucky later."
"She'll be licking my face by lunchtime." He sounds confident so I don't doubt it. I notice he's given up, though, opting to look around the kitchen and living room instead (it's actually one big room divided into two areas). "Your flat's amazing."
"Thanks! It was my grandparents' but I've redecorated since I moved. This is basically it, there's just my room and the bathroom that way," I point towards the door that leads to the hallway, noticing after that he's stopped to stare at the shelves above my TV cabinet. "Those are my vinyl records." I note, pointing at them.
He makes his way towards it, so he has a better look. "This is amazing."
"Thank you! I told you before I have two vinyl players," I remind him. "My grandparents have a huge collection and I've always liked how they look, so I started my own. My grandpa gave me a few over the years, though. Like this one." I grab an old Fleetwood Mac vinyl, knowing he'll love it. "I don't even own any CD's, I buy everything in vinyl."
"Can I take a picture of this?" He asks, pointing at the shelf in general. "It looks amazing."
I shrug. "Be my guest."
I wait until he's done to hand him the leash and his water bottle, grabbing my phone from the counter afterwards. "Let's go?"
I notice he's smirking when he comes towards the door, so I stop to return his stare. "What?"
"You're quite chatty today."
I frown. "I am?"
"I think you are, yeah." He kneels to put the leash on Honey's collar. "Usually it takes you a bit longer to start chatting like that. I think you're warming up to me."
"Uh," I try to think of something to follow his statement, but I'm taken aback so I decide to move on and change the subject (truly Ellie fashion). "Let's go so I can chat in the car, then."
We made puppy walking arrangements late last night, when he asked me about my Saturday plans. We ended up deciding he'd come pick us up and we'd go up to Belsize Park, where we could grab lunch afterwards.
I'm reliving our conversation when we get to his Range Rover and he opens the back door. I widen my eyes when I see he's bought himself a pink blanket to protect his seats and a seat belt for dogs.
"You've gone late night shopping." I point out. He smirks, letting me buckle Honey up so she travels safely. She immediately lies down and I'm already taking a picture of her when I squeal "She looks so cute. Thanks for this." I say, turning my body to look at him properly.
"S'nothing." He shrugs. "Thought you'd appreciate it."
Harry was probably right when he said I was chatty today because, for some reason, I don't shut up for the whole car ride. I tell him my new idea for the store's Halloween layout and how the Christmas layout will probably be the last one I'll work on for a while, as I'll be pretty busy afterwards.
I tell him I'm stressing over my thesis presentation but I'm working on distracting myself. How I subscribed to Netflix a few days ago and started a new documentary series called I'm a Killer (which is creepy in a lot of ways) – and proceed to tell him, in detail, the three episodes I've seen so far.
In my defence, Harry's pretty into what I'm saying – no matter the topic. Which I'm trying to ignore, because if I focus on the smile craved into his face right now, I'd probably go into a whole new crisis and I'm keen on keeping things right as they are. (That being the whole reason why I try not to think about how my crush has not gone away yet. In fact, it gets a little worse every time my phone buzzes with one of his texts - it's actually a little bit worrying, since he keeps on texting).
I'm talking about the last Grey's Anatomy episode I've watched (even though I get the feeling he only watched a few loose episodes and he's not exactly sure who's who) when he parks the car. Honey lifts her head up for the first time and barks, which makes me get another picture because I'm a proud mother.
Harry's the first one to get out of the car and gets her out as well. I accept the leash so he can look for a beanie, even though it's not that cold. I'm not sure if he's looking for comfort or a way to go unnoticed, but I accept when he offers me a black one.
"All set?" He questions before locking the car. I nod, phone in my little bag and water bottle in my hand.
Harry puts his keys in his shorts' pocket and we're off. Honey's finally a happy girl, jumping from leaf to leaf and I think Harry's enjoying seeing her, judging by his tiny smile.
"Here, you take her." I hand him the leash. He takes it quickly, clearly ready to let her go wherever the hell she wants. I don't mind, as I'm free to take all the photos I want. "So how did your session go yesterday?" I ask, knowing he's writing his second album at the moment.
"Wrote a shit song." He makes a face, shrugging afterwards. I can see he's not at all happy with that, however he shrugs it off. "Monday'll be better, hopefully."
"For sure, it can't always be a hit." I try to comfort him. I don't know anything about writing songs but, from my experience, you never get things right on first try; take the Halloween layout for the store, for instance – took me three whole ideas to get it right. "Are you writing mostly alone?"
"Not in the studio, I have other people with me in there." he explains. "Right now, I'm writing with two of my bandmates, actually."
"Band, as in One Direction?"
He laughs. "No, as in the band that comes with me on tour. Mitch and Sarah – they're actually dating now."
"Ah, that's cute! Were they dating when you met them?"
"No," he shakes his head, "They didn't even know each other."
"Oh my God," I don't know why I'm loving this story so much. "You brought two people together, Harry!"
"You seem excited with the prospect of love," I can feel his tease before his next words come out, judging by his smirk when he turns his gaze from Honey's spot in front of us to me. "For someone who claims to not even comment on guys, let alone date."
"There you go again," I roll my eyes theatrically. He's been messing with me every chance he gets. "See, you can't know anything! I regret trying to clear up my name now!"
"You didn't have a name to clear up," he's quick to point out. "You know I'm only joking, Ellie."
"No, you're so not!" I fight, though holding back a smile. "You love to tease me! Just yesterday you asked me if Jesse Williams rated higher than you on my non-existent scale!"
He's laughing before I even finish my rant. "Yeah, 'cause you're a liar! You tell me one day you don't comment on guys and the next you're texting me he's the hottest male actor on Grey's Anatomy right now. Why were you texting me that?"
"Well, I told my friend you were handsome, didn't I? It seems like sometimes I just can't help myself." I'm not even sure how this is coming out of my lips, but it is. "Also, I bet even you wouldn't resist Doctor Avery!"
He actually shrugs.
"Let's move on, then!" I decide, walking faster – away from this conversation.
We stop after a little, sitting down on the grass. Honey's licking my face as soon as my butt touches the ground and I'm laughing as I get attacked. I notice Harry's laughing next to me, deciding to finally help me out only after about five minutes and a dozen photographs saved on his phone.
Honey lets him take her away from me, though only to lick his cheek. He doesn't mind, but I have to yell out a warning so she stays still. It takes Harry a few minutes after that, but he manages to have her lie in his legs.
I'm about to congratulate him on being right (Honey did lick him after about an hour), when he turns to me.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"That depends, what kind of question?"
"A personal one." I motion for him to continue. "How come you're really not interested in dating?"
He looks genuinely interested so I decide to give him half an answer.
"I'm just not looking for a relationship right now. There's too much going on with the internship; I need to make it count- no distractions allowed." I answer honestly. I don't tell him, however, how my parents relationship scarred me for life and how I spend most of the time comparing the guys I meet with my father, so I don't make the same mistakes as my mom, instead of actually getting to know them. "Also, there hasn't been anyone to catch my eye lately." I add, trying to get those thoughts out of my head.
"I get it," he's nodding. "Work normally gets in the way of things."
I'm not sure if I should, but since he asked me, I'm asking right back. "Has it ever happened to you?"
Surprisingly, he answers with no reservations. "Yeah, my last few relationships, actually. We've always been in different stages in our careers." I'm sitting with my legs crossed, my attention fully on him. We're both in the middle of a park, sulking in the sun and petting a puppy – maybe that's why he doesn't stop there. "Can I be completely honest?"
I nod.
"I don't think either of us really put in the work when things got complicated. We enjoyed while it lasted and, when it started going downhill, we just let it."
"Would you say you haven't truly been in love, then?"
What kind of questions am I making? I'm half expecting him to say I'm being too nosey, but he just shrugs slightly and shifts his gaze to the park instead of me, as if he's just now trying to decipher his past feelings.
"Hm, I don't know. Maybe, yeah. I don't know." He finally answers. "When you put it that way, if we truly loved each other, we probably would have tried harder, right?"
"Don't ask me!" I laugh, shrugging. "I know nothing about love."
"Define nothing."
I know what he's after and, after everything he just shared, I feel like I have to give back. "I had one boyfriend, in 12th grade. I thought I did love him, but I didn't cry over him all that much after it was done – so, looking back, I don't think I did."
"Why did you guys break up?"
"I wanted to come to London, he was going to Oxford." I shrug. "Life, I guess."
He hms, though I don't know if he believes that was it, and we go back to a comfortable silence, enjoying the little sun we're getting and each other's company, before picking up our walk and chatting our way back down the park.
&&
My sister has found the pictures I took of Honey in the park
I don't think she's happy
Why wouldn't she be happy?
She says I'm supposed to be a cat person
It's really not my fault her cat hates me, she scratches me all the time
Honey bit you twice that day and you didn't seem to mind
Honey was playing, Olivia does it on purpose
I don't think she likes me either
Well, if it makes you feel better, I think Honey likes you back
&&
Exactly four weeks since this whole thing started, I find myself in a pumpkin patch just outside London, holding Honey as I watch Harry and my godson a few meters down, picking up the biggest pumpkin I've ever seen.
I put Honey down when I see them walk over, picking my own pumpkin from the ground. Harry's holding the pumpkin they just picked and a medium-sized one, while Max is holding a rather small one (we agreed we'd each get one according to our size). I think about asking Harry if he needs any help but he's not looking bothered – in fact, I reckon he'd carry another one and still look like he's not even trying. I try not to think much on how his muscles must look behind his thick coat, but my mind goes there anyway.
Max runs to me, though I'm not sure how, with the amount of clothes he has on (it's too cold to be outside). He repeatedly shouts my name, until he gets close enough for me to hear him. "El, look at Hawwy's pumpin!"
"I see he's got a rather big one," I raise my eyebrows. "Why's that?"
"Max thought I should get the biggest," Harry begins to explain.
My godson puts his hand on my leg to get my attention. "Yeah, Hawwy's big like daddy! Daddy always gets the big pumpin!"
I laugh. "But why does he have two, then?"
"I couldn't possible carve this massive one, so the smaller one's for carving." Harry explains. "We agreed I'd paint the other one with him." He manages to tousle Max's hair in a fond gesture. "Right, Max?"
"Yes!"
I mirror the little one's big smile and look up at Harry, knowing exactly what he's done.
Earlier today, before Harry arrived to come with us, I told Max he was going to paint his pumpkin, since was still too young to actually carve one. Needless to say, the five-year-old was not too pleased and threw a tiny fit, crying real tears and yelling he didn't want to celebrate Halloween, then. I tried not to laugh at that and let him cry until he got over it; he still had his eyes slightly red when Harry knocked on the door and I had to explain it to him on the way over. Therefore, it's no coincidence Harry's now going to paint a pumpkin with Max.
"Are we ready to go, then? We've got a lot to do!"
Max is nodding before I finish. "Can I paint Spidaman?"
"Yes, you can." I agree. "But what should Harry paint?"
"Don't give him any ideas," Harry mutters next to me. "I can't draw for my life."
I eye him with the smallest smirk, "Sure you can."
"Sure I can't."
"Max, should Harry draw a skeleton?"
"Noooooo," the boy makes a face. "Hawwy should dwaw spidaman like meeee!"
Harry's the one making a face now. "Cause that's so much easier," He laughs, reaching the car as he speaks. I open the trunk and he puts his two pumpkins in there. Max drops his tiny one and, suddenly, Harry's picking him up in the air. "You did it on purpose, didn't you, little fella?" The boy's laughter fills the air and I realize I'm frozen, looking at them – pumpkin stuck below my left arm and Honey pulling her leash on my right hand, trying to get into the fun. "You're lucky you're cute." Harry tickles him before he places him on the floor again. He, then, looks at me and I jump slightly, almost dropping my pumpkin.
Harry raises his eyebrow and I, inevitably, blush. Without a word, I drop the pumpkin in the trunk and close it, hurrying to get Honey in her seat – and to get away from Harry's eyes, that seem to be following my every move.
I finish buckling Honey up just as Max puts his seat belt on and Harry sits in the passenger seat. He tried to persuade me to drive up here but I stood my ground, so he seems to have drop it.
I hold back a giggle as I sit in the driver's seat. My car is rather small, a white Fiat 500c that is great to drive around London, but Harry does look rather small in it.
"What?" He's asking as soon as my eyes land on him.
"Nothing!" I hold my hands up in the air and start the car.
"You had that look on your face," he points out. "Like you were about to burst in laughter."
"You look funny in my car, that's all."
"Ah, I look funny, do I? Must be why I wanted to bring my own car!" He complains, though I see amusement in his expression. He pauses before he continues. "It's been worth it, though."
"What do you mean, it's been worth it?"
"You look cute while driving," he notes. I must look startled because I certainly feel it, as I don't expect him to make a comment like this. "You purse your lips a little. It's well cute."
"Uh," I'm not sure the reaction he's expecting, just as I'm not sure the reaction I should have. So, unsurprisingly, I change the subject. "What do you want to listen to, Bubba?"
"One Diwection!"
I close my eyes just enough to avoid the redness to grace my cheeks. "Besides that, honey."
"Whyyy?" He cries.
"He can listen to whatever he wants." Harry points out, turning his body so he can look at my godson in the back. "So, you like One Direction, mate?"
"Yes!"
"We have a teen cousin who loved your band very much. That meaning, this" my finger moves between me and the five-year-old. "Didn't come from me."
"Aw, are you sure, Ellie?" Harry's smirk is so wide I want to slap it off of his face. "I already knew you were my fan, but I didn't know you were a One Direction fan too!"
"I'm actually not," I break it out to him. Then, I think about his reaction to listening to their very first album from start to finish. "Well, One Direction it is Max." I eye Harry. "I reckon you have Up All Night somewhere on your phone?"
"You think you're punishing me but I love it, Frost."
To my dismay, the man laughs and sings with Max the whole journey home.
Harry's following my every move as I finish laying down all the supplies we'll need to our Halloween shenanigans. I feel my skin burn under his gaze but don't acknowledge it. Max has disappeared into my room after Honey, so I was left alone with a man with sudden staring problems.
I call Max as soon as my kitchen counter is perfectly protected (I paid good money for it to be stained with paint), and he comes running. Harry picks him up and places him on middle stool.
I sigh and make my way to the kid's left stool. I decided earlier to carve a ghost so I get on with it. I'm not even properly started when Max looks up to me. "Can I have a photo of Spidaman, pwease?" I laugh, nodding. I put a photo on my phone and put it in front of him, so he can see the blues and the reds.
We start carving/painting in silence, only broken by Honey's toy and/or Max making questions regarding his little Spiderman. I reckon he'll give up and paint the whole pumpkin soon, but until then I humour him with little pieces of advice.
I look beyond my godson's blonde hair, catching a glimpse of a focused Harry Styles. He's been silent for a while, so I decide to check on him. I look at his pumpkin, realizing he's taken all his seeds and he's now carving a small line. I also notice he has his tongue out in concentration and I smile involuntarily, regretting giving my phone to Max, as I'd love to register this moment.
About fifteen minutes later, as Max is almost finishing his Spiderman, Harry puts his knife down and sights in relief. "Mine's done!"
I look over.
"You carved an H?"
"I carved a very well carved H," Harry smirks. "I'm quite happy with it, if you must know."
"Congratulations?" I laugh. "Now, onto painting that one. Max's almost finished, aren't you, bubba?"
He nods proudly. "El? Can I paint it all now?"
"Let me take a picture to show your parents first, yes?" I ask the little one, staring at my hands after. Harry's washing his hands in the sink so he can paint the next one, so I ask him. "Can you take the picture, please?"
He nods, picking my phone for me and taking a picture of the boy and his pumpkin. He, then, proceeds to take a picture of me. I wrinkle my nose and smile at him.
"You look great," He tells me, showing me the picture. "Though that's not a surprise."
I blush, staring at my own reflection. My blonde locks are tamed in a high ponytail and my cheeks are slightly rosy due to the room temperature, but I agree it's a nice picture – I might even post it on Instagram later.
I'm glad that I only look over at Harry's pumpkin after I finish mine, otherwise my perfectly carved ghost would turn out more like a sack.
He's painted a pink 'E' with cute flowers around it.