Saturday, April 4th, 2020
Despite having a week from hell, I've survived. And the Bon Iver concert with Harry couldn't have come at a better time.
"Tutoring?" my father frowns. "I didn't know you were even thinking about doing that."
How would you? You haven't had a serious conversation with me since the fight!
I'd just informed my parents that I'd be 'tutoring' a girl from school tonight. I had planned on sneaking out but I decided that I was going to need a permanent excuse to escape my house more often without questions.
"Yeah, well, I needed the money," I shrug, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "I should be home by 10. Don't stay up."
I exit the kitchen and quickly stride over to the front door before they can both ridicule me with questions. I didn't need them to be overbearing, not now.
After my terrible session with Mrs Thornbury on Monday, I had been in a bad mood all week. Kennedy had asked me several times why I made her take the long way to biology, secretly avoiding the counsellor's office. I couldn't give Kennedy the truth.
I guess that wasn't anything new at this point though.
I walk down the steps briskly. The autumn air was biting at my arms, despite my denim jacket. I was wearing a black skirt and a Bon Iver t-shirt that I had knotted at my waist, given to me last year from Millie.
Harry was parked towards the end of my street as we had arranged.
"Hall. How are you this cold evening?"
"Excited," I breath, stepping into the passenger seat.
Skinny Love was already playing through the speakers of Harry's car. I couldn't help but smile.
"It amazes me how many people think that Birdy wrote this song," I deadpan. "Hardly any of the credit goes to the legend himself."
Harry scoffs, turning on the engine. "Tell me about it. Do you know how many times I've had to explain that to people?"
"Too many?" I grin.
"Too many," he agrees, nodding his head.
"But I guess it could have also been a blessing for him, right? I mean, the song became pretty big when Birdy sang it."
"True," he nods. "But still, I'll always like this version."
"Of course."
We sit in comfortable silence, allowing us both the time to enjoy the harmonious voice of none other than Bon Iver.
"Growing up, I always used to think that Bon Iver was one person, not a band," Harry speaks, turning into the carpark outside the concert venue.
I playfully slap his arm. "Me too," I laugh.
He pulls up, cutting the engine. He wracks a hand through his hair, smiling at me.
"What?" I blush, looking away. I pretend to fiddle with my seatbelt, slowly unclipping it.
"Nothing. I just...your laugh. I hardly ever get to hear it."
My stomach churns. Harry was good at analysing people. Too good.
I pull open the door without looking back at him. I don't reply either. What would I say anyway?
It hurts to laugh when I know what all those families my brother affected are going through.
"This way," Harry calls.
I realise I've just been standing here, leaning against his car.
I quickly stride towards him, running to catch up.
His hands are in his the pockets of his puffer jacket. I quickly scan his outfit, trying not to linger on his face for too long.
"Cool t-shirt," he says. He's watching me out of the corner of his eye, his brown hair blowing in the wind.
"Oh, thanks."
We stop at the crossing, pressing the button and waiting for the lights to change.
I notice people beginning to line up outside the venue, talking animatedly. There was a certain buzz in the air, one you only got when you were about to go to a concert.
"Where'd you get it?"
"Huh?"
We start to cross the road. I almost knock into a man coming from the opposite direction but Harry guides me out of the way, his hand gripping mine momentarily.
"The t-shirt."
"Oh," I mutter, looking down at my top. "It was a present. From a friend. Back home."
Why did I always have to blabber? He didn't need to know all of that.
We reach the end of the line and lean back against the wall, waiting for the doors to open and let us in.
"I don't hear you talking about your friends from home much. I don't think you ever have, actually."
"Yeah," I whisper. I watch as the line moves up an inch. Painstakingly, we move a step forward, my Converse in line with Harry's Vans. Guess we were just both basic like that.
"I don't talk to any of them anymore. That's why. We all kind of...had a falling out."
It was as close to the truth as I was willing to go. I didn't like lying to Harry, or any of my friends for that matter. But it needed to be done.
"Oh, shit. Sorry."
I wave off his apology. "Don't be. I had it coming. I pretty much deserved it."
I gulp. Too far.
"I don't believe that," he shakes his head. We move another three steps forward, our feet shuffling along with everyone else.
"I couldn't imagine why anyone wouldn't like you," he frowns. "It just seems...impossible."
If only he knew.
"Hardly. Plenty of people dislike me. Loathe me, even."
Harry laughs. "Come on, Hall. There is no way—"
"Look, we're almost there," I point.
It cuts him off entirely as he looks to the front. He withdraws the tickers from his pocket.
I couldn't stand having that conversation for much longer. I hoped Harry realised that now.
"Tickets," the security guard asks.
Harry passes the tickets and the man scans them, ushering us inside.
I'd never been inside this theatre before. My breath catches in my throat when I look up and notice the beautifully intricate ceiling.
"Wait till we actually get inside," Harry whispers close to me.
After a quick bag search, we are allowed to exit the foyer and enter the theatre.
Harry is busy looking down at the tickets, finding our seats. "Row B," he mutters to himself.
I look up at the ceiling and gasp.
Harry smiles over at me. "Told you."
It instantly reminds me of summer nights spent with Nix watching the stars. The ceiling is round and filled with hundreds of small, twinkling lights.
Harry leads us down a few stairs, closer to the front. I expect him to stop somewhere close by but he continues until we are practically on the stage.
"Harry," I groan. "How much did you pay to get seats like this?"
"Not much," he shrugs, clearly lying through his teeth.
"We're the second row from the front," I deadpan. "I'm no fool."
"It was nothing," he waves me off.
"I feel terrible," I say, my face in my hands.
"Why?" he frowns. "Your eighteenth birthday is a month away. I already told you it was an early present."
"But—"
"Shh," he whispers, leaning in. His smile lights up his entire face and I can't help but watch his lips. "The support act is about to start."
Just as I'm about to protest, on comes the support act, silencing me for an hour.
Bon Iver had been playing their set for an hour and a half now. They were on their last song.
After thanking us all for being here, they start in on one of my favourite songs. Flume.
"I am my mother's only one,
It's enough,"
Harry and I look over at each other at the same time.
"Love this song!" I shout, trying to be heard over the music.
He grips my hand, squeezing twice.
"I wear my garment so it shows,
Now you know,"
"Only love is all maroon,
Gluey feathers on a flume,
Sky is womb and she's the moon,"
I don't think I'd ever be able to repay Harry for this lifelong memory. Seeing my favourite band was probably the best thing I had witnessed in years. Nothing could top an experience like this.
"I am my mother on the wall, with us all,
I move in water, shore to shore;
Nothing's more,"
"Only love is all maroon,
Lapping lakes like leary loons,
Leaving rope burns,
Reddish rouge,"
Harry moves his hand so that our fingers are now entwined. Everything seems to disappear around me. Everyone but Harry, me and the band.
"Only love is all maroon,
Gluey feathers on a flume,
Sky is womb and she's the moon,"
Poetic. That was how I always described the lyrics written by Bon Iver. That's how I would always describe this moment, years from now.
All too soon, the song ends and the lights come up. I let go of Harry's hand so that we can make our way out into the night.
I can't find the words until we cross the road. The night was so magical that I didn't know how to even begin.
"Thank you," I begin, shaking my head in awe. "I loved it."
"Well, it wasn't me, was it? You should be thanking the band."
"But without you," I start, grabbing his shoulder to stop him. He turns to me.
"Without you, it wouldn't have happened at all. God, Harry, why do you always have to be so nice? You're the kindest, most pure person I have ever—"
Before I can say anymore, his lips are on mine, moving in sync.
I've never felt a feeling more powerful in my life. The way he holds me, his arms lightly wrapping around my waist makes me feel like I'm alive.
His hand cups my cheek, his thumb moving a strand of my hair behind my ear.
My eyes have fluttered closed on their own accord but they suddenly flash open. I push at Harry's chest, sending him stepping back.
He touches his lips like he isn't sure what just happened. Honestly, neither do I.
"I think you should take me home," I blurt. I can't look at him, scared that he'll see how panicked my eyes are.
No. No. No.
I was going to ruin everything. I told myself that friends were okay but now this? Shit.
There was no denying that I was attracted to Harry. That I probably even liked him. But it didn't mean I was ever going to act on it. It was too dangerous.
How could I have let it go on for so long? It felt like we had been kissing for minutes.
"Lon—"
"Take me home, Harry. Please," I croak.
I won't meet his eyes but I can feel him watching me.
"I think we should talk—"
"Please?"
He sighs and I know that he's about to comply.
"Alright," he says, defeated. He walks on ahead of me, towards his car.
I should have known all of this was a mistake. I was only going to end up hurting Harry if I let him kiss me like that ever again. And worst of all, I didn't know if I'd even have the will power to pull away next time.
I can feel him watching me as he reverses out of the parking lot.
I'm shaking all over, partly from adrenaline and partially because I know that I should have just kept to myself this year.
I'd dragged so many people into my mess without them even knowing it.
"Lon?" Harry whispers.
I can't look at him. My gaze is focused out the window.
"Look, I didn't mean to upset you. I thought that...never mind."
I knew. I knew what he was going to say.
He thought that I had wanted it too. And I did. That was the most heartbreaking part.
"You thought I wanted to kiss you too," I say, filling in the gaps.
He clears his throat but doesn't answer.
"You were wrong," my voice breaks. "You were wrong about me, and you were wrong about that."
"It's okay to lie every once and a while."
"I don't know, Nix."
I'm suddenly hit with a wave of emotions. I need to get out of this car.
The truth was, I wasn't any better than my brother. He hurt people, people he was supposed to care about. And what was I doing? The exact same thing.
"I don't understand," Harry says, monotone.
"You don't have to," I whisper, entwining my hands together. The shaking won't stop.
"Lonnie—"
"I can't, Harry. I can't be the person you want me to be."
He pulls over and I suddenly realise that we're only two doors from my house.
"Who I want you to be? What are you talking about?"
"I'm not— I'm not good. I'm not the person you think I am."
He shakes his head, brown hair falling into his eyes.
"I like you for you! What don't you understand about that?"
"No," I whisper, a sob rising from my throat. "You don't."
"Lonnie, I really don't know what is going on but—"
"Nothing is going on," I interject. "I just think we would be better off as friends."
He stops, turning to face the windscreen.
"Friends," he whispers, nodding solemnly.
I gulp. I reach for the door handle but miss it twice. My hands are shaking like crazy.
"I'll see you at school," I say, keeping my voice even.
I make myself watch him as I leave. I needed to see that this is what happened when I let people get too close. I would always hurt them.
He won't look at me so I exit the car before I do something stupid and take it all back.
He drives off as soon as I shut the door behind me, speeding up the street.
If November had never happened, I would have kissed him again. If November never happened, I would have told him I liked him, held his hand and thanked him over and over for the best night. If November never happened, I wouldn't have had to hurt Harry.
If November never happened, maybe, maybe, I could have saved Nix and his destructive path.
If November never happened, I could have stopped the crimes he committed and the lives he destroyed.
But November did happen and now I had to deal with the aftermath of Nix's destruction alone.