Hardest of Hearts

There’s this great line from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, the movie, that I often think could apply to Kate, my crazy, redheaded best friend, and me. After Ron, Hermione and Harry find Katie Bell suspended in the air, put under the Imperius Curse, they are taken to Professor McGonagall whom replies ‘Why is it, that whenever anything happens, it's always you three?’ to their explanation.

That was exactly what I was thinking after Kate approached me in that rainy day, her flowered pattern gardening boots covered in mud. She had that crazy look where her blue eyes were even bigger, almost resembling a shocked tarsier. Her face was lightened up in the middle of sad and gloomy ones while she shoved past people hurriedly who in return grunted blasphemies.

“We have to spy Harry Styles,” she said when she approached me, her hair dripping water to the floor which along with her soaked and colorful clothes began to create a puddle in front of her.

“Why, may I ask?”

“Because – and I’m going to enumerate my answer seeing as you like a well-expressed and coherent argument – for starters, I own a blog which was nominated the best source of information about One Direction so I must keep my readers updated.”

I nodded in response. It was a plausible reason but one that didn’t necessarily make me agree to her espionage scheme.

“Secondly, you know you won’t be able to sleep if you don’t help me. Your own version of Jiminy Cricket will appear and it will probably look like me. But, you know, very small.”

True enough.

“Lastly, because I have in my possession,” a set of blasphemies and sounds of pain and frustration were muffled by her leather backpack in which she had now inserted her head and hands, rummaging for something, “two tickets for Ryan Adams.”

Stretched out in front of me were, in fact, two tickets for Ryan Adams in about one week. I made a strange noise, something between a squeal and a wail. As much as I wanted to touch them just to check if they were real or squeeze Katie to death, I realized I was in a very deathly territory.

“How much will this cost me?”

And this is how I found myself trapped with my best friend – deliberating at the time if I should change her title and find new friends – in our school’s male restroom waiting for Harry Styles to take a wee. I know I’m not being righteous because the Golden Trio clearly had some massive issues in their hands but why is it, that whenever anything happens, it's always me?

“Do you wanna take the seat or the tank lid?” she asked matter of factly. After putting the battery once again inside the camera that her dad had given her 8 year ago for Christmas, she gave it a small jab which made it work, judging from her grinning face.

“It’s half past two in the afternoon an-“

“Wait,” I put my hand in front of the camera that was currently pointing and taping my every single word, “are we actually doing this?”

“Yes.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a law that restrains us from doing so.”

“I’m assuming you’re taking the seat, then,” she said, eyeing me as I sat on the toilet while massaging my forehead, thinking of something implicated in the English Law that would prevent us from proceeding this obnoxious operation.

“I’m quite sure that recording conversations without the participant’s knowledge is essentially considered a breach of that person’s right to privacy.”

“How you managed to read all of the English Law and come up with something relevant for this exact moment is extraordinary, yet scary at the same time. One thing is definitely sure, Oxford wasn’t wrong when they included you in that fancy list. You’re going to be a great lawyer.”

Before I could hide my blush, Kate grabbed my arm and pushed me to the cubicle where I assumed my position of voice recorder/outlaw siting on the toilet. My back was against Kate’s legs so when the door opened with a loud and piercing sound, like nails scraping a chalkboard, Kate’s legs closed around my hair making me scream. Immediately I closed my hands around my mouth and looked at Kate who gave me thumbs up as saying ‘They didn’t hear’.

“Jesus Christ, this place is falling apart,” someone tried to say over the ear piercing noise but couldn’t be heard clearly because of how deep his voice was. I quickly registered the someone was Harry Styles seeing as Kate was doing the possible and impossible to not fangirl and to not drop the notebook she was currently holding above her head, her arms flapping making her look like a hula dancer.

I know I can be a little too extreme when it comes to organize and being neat but I’m not one of those people that make bucket lists or to do today’s lists. If I was, though, you would probably find ordinary errands like buy groceries or call Grandma to see if everything is alright. But never would you find check if Harry Styles has a penis that can justify his almighty and cocky (not a wise choice of words) personality in today’s lists. Definitely not on a wish list either. Not in any type of list would you find that, except if you’re Kate St. Bell.

I’d heard the previous day while handing my tray to the lunch lady to get a nice and energizing meal which consisted of salmon and potato puree (read: not energizing at all because I couldn’t even gulp down the first bite) that Harry Styles was back to school after an exhausting TV show and an even more exhausting tour. Oh, poor Harry, they had said as if living your dream and having loads of money that could guarantee your stay in the Earth, let’s say, for your entire life was bad. Singing was Styles’ dream, right? It had to be because why would anyone in their right mind let people, mostly strangers, follow them 24/7 who brought along their cameras, taping their every move, their every sentence and their every look? As the girls handed their plates ordering only salads, I headed to a seat in the corner of the wide windowed and bright lunchroom wondering if singing was in fact Styles’ dream was it what he was looking for or just plain disappointing as life usually is.

“Did you think they were going to renew the whole school just for you, mate?” Whoever this was, I was on his side.

We saw Styles and mysterious boy’s feet stopping in front of the urinals and hearing someone pee never sounded so gross. Kate, on the other hand, thought the sound of Harry Styles peeing was as amazing as Dair (read: Dan and Blair, her favorite couple on Gossip Girl) happening or as Serena leaving Upper East Side forever. Someone definitely needed to sort their priorities.

“So you haven’t exactly told me why you’re back…”

“Oh,” without looking at Styles’ face I could tell that was an off topic for him. “Just getting my grades better, that’s all.”

Her pen almost boring a hole in her notebook, Kate signaled for me with her other hand to hit the record button on the voice recorder which I did. I didn’t know what to expect, what gossip would Harry Styles provide us with but I certainly didn’t expect to hear the words he uttered.

“So… Pond looks fit.”

If I wasn’t stranded on a bathroom stall small enough for one person, let alone two, someone would have thought the bloody Basilisk had indirectly looked at me. The thing about eavesdropping is that you can never be fully embraced for what you’re going to hear. Either if it’s a compliment, a secret or gossip. Either if you know it or not. Believe me when I say this because as they days passed I believed I could have easily be given the Award for Best Eavesdropper in the United Kingdom.

The first time I eavesdropped a conversation was the morning after both the letter and Harry Styles arrived. I was coming down from breakfast, almost stepping into the kitchen when I heard my mum whispering. Call it instinct but I immediately glued myself to the wall, softening my breaths so I could hear her.

“How can you not remember?”

“I just… don’t.”

It was a two sided conversation, apparently my dad versus my mum. I sneaked a peek and saw my mum frying eggs and bacon while my dad was drinking his cup of orange juice while reading the newspaper. Tapping his fingers over his lips was a sign of annoyance and nonchalance. If I didn’t find my mum the day before that stiffening at my dad’s touch, I would have found my dad’s lack of interest ordinary because he didn’t like when people talked to him while he was reading. But at that moment that looks gained a new whole meaning.

My mum landed his plate of food in front of him and waited for him to look at her. When he didn’t, she grabbed his chin, complete free of stubble, and forced him to look at her.

“You can’t do this to us. It’s not fair.” My dad tried to avert her gaze and she was almost in tears now. “First tobacco, now… Just stop it. Please.”

I could tell he wasn’t going to stop whatever it was that he was doing wrong. So, to spare my mum from becoming completely hopeless, I stepped in and they immediately separated. It has been two days since that happened and I still hadn’t find what my dad had done. It was always there, in the back of my mind. I repeated their conversation in my mind when I took a break from doing homework or when I went to the bathroom in the middle of the class, but it was always there. It was nagging me, yelling that what I did wasn’t right but what my dad had done was much worse. I needed to find out.

Back to eavesdropping #3 (#2 being the girl’s conversation about Styles), the boys moved to the sink, washing their hands, the reply to Styles’ sentence still in the air.

“What?”

The other guy cleared his throat clearly preparing to say something uncomfortable. Never mind me; I’m not uncomfortable at all. I’m just overhearing a conversation about me while straight looking at a door full of scribbles like ‘Amanda Pitt gives free blow jobs, phone here’ or ‘I need a condom, mate’.

“Doesn’t Amy kind of hate you?”

Good point. I shall hereby proclaim you my gentleman caller.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t look at her. She’s a girl who has a nice body. Can’t help it, mate.”

Always charming, Styles.

“Don’t be like that, Arthur,” if you listened carefully, you could hear the bloody cheeky bastard saying that with a smile plastered on his face and you could hear the sense of embarrassment draining out of me. “Everybody knows she’s yours since last summer.”

At the utter of those last two words, I sucked in for a breath too loudly which I attempted to hide by covering my mouth with my hands, leaving the voice recorder to fall on the ground… outside of the cubicle. I didn’t even dare to look at Kate, she would give me her death stare.

“You alright in there, mate?”

Jesus bloody Christ. When did you the devil get so nice?
I coughed, trying my best to do an impersonation of the male I knew best, my brother.

“Yeah, mate. Just technical problems, mate. Thanks… mate.”

A strong hand grabbed the back of my sweater trying to keep me from not lowering to the ground. I could see through the space between the ground and the line of the green door that the voice recorder was no more than fifty centimeters away from me. My arm was thin so I could easily do it, which was what I did. Only Harry Styles had the same idea.

“I don’t know what you want a voice recorder for but here let me help you.”

“NO!”

I screamed with my normal, girly voice but that didn’t stop that fabricated pop singing robot from kneeling in the ground and take it and while every normal person would stand, wait for the person whose object belonged to and hand them, Harry Styles was not a normal person. Still smiling from ear to ear, he stretched his arm while turning his head to see me. Well, he was expecting to see a bloke so…

“Pond?”

A lot of things happened after that single, four lettered word was pronounced but through it all I could only stare at those big green eyes while they gained a different glow going from generous to shock to disappointed as he made the connection between me and the voice recorder. If I hadn’t known this was wrong, Harry Styles had just stated it.

I got out of my trance when Styles got to his feet and taking care of what happened between that ten seconded stare. What happened is scientifically called the Kate St. Bell. While Styles and I were still taking in the discovery he just made, Kate had opened the cubicle, almost hitting her dream’s main protagonist and almost stepping on my hand, and started verbally throwing up an awful lot of questions.

I sat in the toilet seat moving my eyes to Kate and Harry to Arthur who was standing awkwardly against the sink, his hands in his pockets while having found a sudden interest in the floor. By then blush crept upon my cheeks as I recalled all that was said those seconds ago. Now I found myself facing the floor, suddenly realizing that it was far more interesting than looking at him. I could still hear Kate bickering Harry about the new album and where was it going to be recorded and who wrote the songs, all a bunch of bullshit I couldn’t stop hearing even as I put my fingers in my ears.

I thought I’d learned from eavesdropping my parents that doing so wasn’t right, but I’d gone and do it again and found again no profit from doing so. I’d actually found a whole new world behind those words that I didn’t even want to have known.

When I was kid I was never quite good at maths and being the perfectionist I was and still am, I wanted to be brilliant at it even if I wasn’t born with that talent. I did rather well until Pi showed up with its simplicity, yet not so simple. I didn’t understand it what it was and what it was from and when I was supposed to use it. No one answered me because after asking three times what it was, I still didn’t like the answer and I came back for me. One day, after three excruciating hours of maths where I didn’t get not even one exercise right, I demanded that my dad would explain me which he couldn’t because he had a lot of work. But he took me to my aunt Lottie who had been a maths teacher and then became my savior. I asked her about everything and she didn’t even rolled her eyes as if saying oh my child, just go play. She moved closer to me and sang what would become my greatest companion on moments of stress.

“A long, long time ago, long before the Super Bowl and things like lemonade, the Hellenic Republic was full of smarts and a question resting on the Grecian hearts was ‘What is the circumference of a circle?’. But they were set on rational numbers and it ranks among their biggest blunders. They worked on it for years and confirmed one of their biggest fears. I can't be certain if they cried when irrationality was realized but something deep within them died the day they discovered pi. They were thinking Pi, pi, mathematical pi, 3 point 14 15 92 65 35 89 7 932384 62 6433832 7.”

It was no surprise when the bathroom fell to silent leaving me to whisper that calm, relaxing song. I looked up to find all three of them eyeing me strangely, like I was not normal.

“Pond, are you alright?”

I didn’t want to know the reason behind Harry Styles moving toward me or why was I blushing even more deeply. I didn’t want to know if the blushing had been a result of the whole accident or just a result of Harry Styles being inches away from touching my shoulder. But then I looked at him and I saw he thought I was a weirdo so I side stepped him and left the cubicle. I was expecting Arthur to come to my rescue because I was his, just like Styles had said minutes ago. So why did he eye the floor again as I fixated my stare at him?

I left the restroom still hearing Kate’s explanation for my freak out. Wasn’t it funny that sometimes you found yourself in a room full of people you know but they seemed strangers to you? That’s what I learned from both eavesdropping my parents and Harry and Arthur. There’s a whole different side to people that will always be stranger because you haven’t discovered it yet and maybe you will never want to.