Captured

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear what Harry,or Bridget said,” Zayn finally spoke to me, after fifteen minutes of excruciating silence, “I am only going to listen to what you have to say, Austin.”

Zayn and I were waltzing to Stateless’s Bloodstream across the dance floor along with the rest of the senior class. The host announced that it was time for the cotillion, and no one was exempted. I was rather reluctant to even stand up from my seat because of course I didn’t know the dance steps.Until Zayn took my hand and kind-of dragged me. I guess he wanted us to be away from the others.

Harry had scrammed out of The Grand Ballroom earlier, very furious. Since then, I was caught speechless, and so was Zayn. So Bridget filled in the blanks for us. “Maybe it’s my fault. Or something like that. I asked Harry yesterday if he was available to become Austin’s date for tonight. I didn’t know he was going to go all the way to Brooklyn to buy a dress. And I didn’t know Austin had asked Zayn to be her date.”

We’re still dancing, and I was trying my best not step on Zayn’s foot. He was waiting for me to answer.

“What Bridget said, it’s true,” I said as the Bloodstream faded and a new song filled the room, “Harry prepared this whole proposal thing at Heckscher Playground yesterday, and he asked me after we had ice cream, after I asked you.”

Somehow, I felt a little relieved getting that out of my chest.

“I didn’t know, I swear. I thought when you said yes, that’s what Bridget meant when she said she got me date. And who would have thought Harry was going to do all of that?”

I didn’t expect Zayn to be glad or something. I just thought maybe he’d believe me. But there was disappointment in his eyes. “You still lied to me, Austin. We were together the entire afternoon. You could have told me all of this. Things wouldn’t suddenly get better, but at least we could have prevented Harry’s dramatic exit.”

“I’m sorry I lied about the dress. About everything. It made me feel guilty and I have this thing with guilt that makes me a really bad person. If it makes you feel better, I’ll gladly rip this off my body.”

And with that, a smile lit up on Zayn’s face. “Now why would you do that if it looks really good on you?”

I blushed. Good thing the lights were too dim for Zayn to see.

“I guess I’m just upset because my mate’s angry. After all, he did an awful lot of effort. If I were in his shoes, I’d feel the same way.”

The night proceeded with more fancy food and dancing. Much to my felicity, the waiter served us champagne. Niall and Bridget continued to dance. Liam started playing some songs on the stage, and although it pissed the lousy DJ, he couldn’t really do anything because three-fourths of the girls in the ballroom were very amused. Louis looked really bored, only his phone keeping him busy, and he sat in silence with Zayn and I, while the two of us were casually sipping our champagnes. And then out of the blue, Louis said, “Oh for god’s sake, Austin. Harry’s in that fountain outside. Why don’t you go and talk to him?”

Louis meant the Pulitzer Fountain.

I looked at Zayn, and he nodded affirmatively. I was actually surprised that he’s not that mad. Finally, I stood up and left The Grand Ballroom. I didn’t even stop to make sure Mister Powell or some teacher is following me. I was driven with every intention to find Harry and apologize to him.

The temperature outside was awfully frigid, but that didn’t bother me at all. I was more worried that I was crossing the street of New York wearing a sparkly blue gown. I mean, not everyone would really understand why, right?

It’s dark and foggy, plus the snow was falling slightly, but it wasn’t really a challenge to find Harry. Basically, he was just the only person in the plaza. Yes it’s Valentine’s Day and the Pulitzer Fountain is a beautiful place for lovers, but it’s also a winter night, so that makes it a bad place for lovers. He was sitting just outside the fountain, staring at Pamona, the sculpture at the top. He must have sensed me, so he turned around. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’m here to make an angel figure on the snow, Harry,” I tried to joke. “Of course I’m here to talk to you.”

But Harry gave no response, except for racking glare from his eyes that was as cold as the wind. I gulped and thought of how stubborn I was for choosing the wrong time to be sarcastic.

“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I lied to them. I’m sorry that I didn’t thank you for getting me a dress. Is that what you want to hear from me?”

“It’s not just about the dress, Austin,” Harry said, finally standing up from his position and walking towards me. “Yes, I am terribly hurt because you’re in that ball with Zayn and you’re wearing the dress I bought you. Somehow, I understand the part where you had to lie about it. Maybe I deserve all of these. For being a jerk, for not treating you right. But fuck, Austin. Can’t you see? I have been desperately trying to show you how sorry I am.”

“No you haven’t, Harry,” I shot back immediately, “The incident at the playground was a really sweet gesture, but it doesn’t mean that if I had said yes, we’d be okay. And in the first place, you fucking went to that interview without us, Harry. You told the whole world that what happened to us in the elevator was one of the best fifteen seconds in your fucking life, like saying that was going to make some damage control. But no. It created more trouble for me.”

I was kind of raising my voice then.

“And you had the audacity to say we’re friends. Well let me make it clear to you, we’re not. God, suddenly I feel so wrong for being guilty. Ever since you yelled at me in the beach house, I’ve had nothing but nightmares and this stupid conscience welled up in me.”

And then I started crying. Pictures from my dreams, my mother’s face, Harry’s “You’re judgmental” playing again and again. I knew how to deal with this. I knew how to handle this. It didn’t even have to hurt this way. But somehow, it kills me every time I remember the way Harry looked at me in the beach house, the yacht, and in the playground. It’s exactly the same with my mom’s expression in my dreams.

Suddenly, I was enveloped in his arms, his warmth easing off the coldness. I was still crying, but Harry didn’t stop me or say anything. He was just letting me wet his expensive suit with my tears, and I was letting him witness a side of me that is broken and sad.

“What are you doing, Harry?” I managed to say in-between my sobs.

“Your friend, Marcus, he talked to me couple of days ago. He told me about your mum, and implied that I should go do something for you. To show you how sincere I am to gain your forgiveness for all the stupid things I’ve done. When Bridget gave me that opportunity, I was very excited. But then you had Zayn already. I didn’t even think about it. I wasn’t supposed to be mad, but I was. I became selfish. I guess I was scared that I wasn’t going to have any chance anymore. I don’t care if you’ll understand; I let the jerk-Harry prevail every time something wrong happens to me. It has been easier that way. But I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, Austin. If I have to say that over and over again for the rest of my life, I will.”

I was taken aback. Marcus talked to Harry. I wasn’t agitated or anything. It just didn’t sound like Marcus at all.

“Please stop crying, Austin. It makes me feel like I’m the most horrible person in the world.”

I let go of Harry’s embrace and wiped the tears from my eyes. I looked at him. His face was so devout, and although it seemed wrong that he was acting this way, I felt a little good inside. Harry was also showing me a side of him that’s true and trustworthy and unjerk like.

Finally, I threw over my pride and ego. “I’m sorry I’ve been treating you that way. Maybe I just never gave you a chance. But since we’re being all dramatic and expressive, I guess it’s the perfect time to give each other a chance.”

And for the first time ever since he walked away yesterday, a grin, not the usual impish one but rather a genuine grin, brightened up Harry’s face. He took off his gray coat and hung it over my shoulders to keep me warm. Then he knelt on one knee and I turned around to see if someone was looking. Harry looked up at me and said, “Austin, I know that what I’m doing is beyond crazy, but I would gladly do every kind of foolishness for you. I’m sorry. Please, I want us to start all over again.”

***

Harry and I found ourselves walking down W 58th Street in our silly outfits and stopping in front of Perk Hill. The place was small and looked deserted, and seemed like a perfect place to get to know each other, so we entered at our own free will. A young man who looked blasé, and gratefully didn’t recognize Harry, was sitting at the cash register, reading The Walking Dead: Volume 14. He half-heartedly listened as Harry gave his order, “A steamed chai for me and a cappuccino for the lady.”

We weren’t even that okay but Harry was already making orders for me.

Like I said, the place was isolated, so there were many seats to choose from. We decided to take the table far from the counter but not too close to the windows.

Harry was now back to toying a sly smile with his lips, his dimples being obnoxiously adorable.

My eyebrows puckered. “What?”

“It’s just weird. Fifteen minutes ago, we were fighting and shouting at each other. Now, we’re having coffee.”

“You don’t have to be annoying about it, Harry. You should be happy I’m giving us a chance.”

His grin became wider, “I like that. Us.”

I rolled my eyes and approximately seven minutes later, our hot beverages arrived. My cappuccino didn’t smell as good as the one from my favorite coffee shop, but it didn’t taste that bad. On the other hand, Harry looked satisfied with his chai.

“Who’s Ellie?” I had to say something before Perk Hill’s godawful music shattered my eardrums entirely.

Harry didn’t even have any negative reaction on his face. He simply put his chai down and answered the question right away. “A girl from London.”

I gave him a that’s-not-really-my-question look.

“Okay. I guess this is confession hour. She worked as a crew in one of our concert venues in London. She’s very down-to-earth. We became friends, but I wanted it to be more than that. Long story short, she didn’t give me a chance to prove myself. She’s had this idea of me in her mind that I was a flirt, that I’m just going to break her heart. Actually, for the past year, every girl I’ve tried to woo said the same thing about me. And it’s just aggravating. Those girls include you, by the way.”

What he just said caught me off-guard, and I wasn’t supposed to make assumptions but this was confession hour for us. “You’re trying to woo me?”

It didn’t even sound right. Like who the hell says woo? Oh, Harry Styles does.

Harry laughed a little. “Don’t worry, Austin. I will eventually go back and pick up where I last left off. But for now, I just want us to be friends.”

The next morning, I woke up in my room in our hotel in Manhattan wrapped in Harry’s charcoal gray coat. My head felt a little fuzzy, but I could still remember the events from last night.

After our little coffee hang out at Perk Hill, Harry and I went back to Pulitzer Fountain. We figured the Valentine’s Ball wasn’t over yet, so we decided to stay there for a while. Harry started asking, “Let’s say, you never asked Zayn to be your date, would you have said yes to my proposal?” to which I nodded affirmatively, trying my best not to look so gushy and all.

Then he took my right hand and placed it over his shoulder, and took the other hand, and said, “So I guess I deserve this dance.” So we danced. No music, just our breaths and breeze and the occasional honking of taxi cabs and other vehicles. And when we made a full circle around the fountain, Harry stopped and tucked my hair behind my ears. “I want to take back what I said in the coffee shop. I don’t want us to be friends, Austin. I like you and you drive me crazy and you make me do things I don’t usually do.”

I couldn’t answer, so he kissed my forehead and opened his phone. Moments later, we were riding a town car to our hotel in Manhattan. I told Harry I wanted to rest and he walked me to my room and left when I’d finally closed my eyes.

I moved around and noticed this folded paper by my side. Harry must have left it last night, I thought.

And I was right, although suddenly I felt so wrong.

Because the note said, “I’m sorry. Forget what I said. – H.”