Cracks in Anchors

“What the fuck, Mr. Styles?”

“What the fuck did I just do?”

Our voices sounded rough as they floated between the two of us and I saw Sullivan’s hand fly instinctively to the place where my lips just touched. Her eyes shone an iridescent shade of fear and I felt my own heart collapse in on itself.

Why did I let teenage Harry take control over older Harry, why did I let my hand brush her hair away, why did I let my lips press against her skin and why, most of all, did I want more? Why did it feel like my earth shattered and each fragment was scattered across the floor; why did it feel like my words were lost and never to be found again? Why did it feel like I needed her touch to fuel my blood, why did I want to forget about the kids and loose myself in her and us and whatever we were?

I think it was love, as I lay in my bed years later with all the lights turned off, that made my stomach churn and my hands clammy and my eyes water.

“Yeah, what the fuck did you just do?” She snapped me out of my daze and I couldn’t help but stare at her, hoping that I could sense what she wanted; whether she wanted to pull me into her again or run in disgust, maybe even puke in her mouth. I hesitated, licked my sudden chapped lips and forced words to form on my tongue.

“I-I just wanted to feel you.” I could hear the air pushing out of her nostrils and caught another glimpse of her hand grasping at the ghost of my lips, her finger pads pressing against her skin.

“Like that’s not a tad bit weird, Styles.”

Instead of the disgust and denial and revolt I expected to hear fall from her mouth, I sensed the calm and humor that I rarely saw in a classroom setting. So, since technically we were out on class business, maybe I was making headway in breaking her down and tearing her apart in the best ways possible. “What can I say, I’m a weird person, Cartridge.”

She smiled but then adverted her eyes behind her shoulder, scanning the faces of the interested and the not-so-interested; the ones who seemed genuinely interested and the ones whose fucks were not given. But I didn’t care, not really, because Sullivan wasn’t mad at me and I wasn’t mad at myself like I planned on being. Instead I found myself drowning in self pride, like making that first move would open the gates to her heart, which I was wrong about- it would take second and third and fourth and fifth and sixth moves to get to that point in our futures. But no matter, I had finally accomplished what I’d dreamt about, I had felt her lips on mine and that would hold me for now. For how long, I couldn’t know, but as the ending credits of the movie rolled by and the kids started talking and collecting their things, I turned off the “I-really-like-my-female-student-and-just-kissed-her-and-I-want-more” vibe and replaced it with the “I’m-a-professional-teacher” one. I clapped my hands as I stood; something I felt ashamed about a second later and tucked my hands back into my pockets.

“If some of you have to go to the bathroom, go ahead and meet us at the lobby, okay?”

A drone of head nods and yes’s came from the condensation of teenagers crowding past the exit of the theatre. I sighed as I watched a few branch off towards the bathroom and the others tumble into the lobby, still clutching half-full popcorn containers and candy boxes. I shrugged on my coat as I entered the crowd of kids, scanning their faces to see if anyone was acting differently - if anyone seemed like they saw something they shouldn’t have. But none of them looked different, the popular boys were joking with the popular girls and the nerd girls were gaping at the popular boys while the nerd boys were trying to get the attention of the nerd girls. And the cycle went on just as it did years ago when I was in school; how it always was going to be and nothing could stop it - there was no end.

But then there were the girls and boys like Sullivan, who’d rather shy away from the crowd and hang on the fringes and just watch as everything passed them by. The kids who just took in everything and commented to themselves, the ones who knew just how stupid their classmates were and how dense everyone was becoming. How dense society was becoming.

“Mr. Styles, did you like the movie?”

One of the girls who thought she was cute stood by my side and nearly pouted as she asked the question, a finger tangled around a ringlet of blonde hair and green eyes hiding behind fluttering eyelashes.

I guess she was a little bit cute but reminded me too much of Jolene and the guilt and the tears she spilled, so I tried to avoid her and anyway, she wasn’t nearly as cute as Sullivan. But I nodded anyway and let a smile pass my lips even though I had no idea what the movie was about or what happened.

Blondie was pleased with it, though, because she turned around to her group of girls and giggled while staring glances my way.



“You did what?” Louis’s voice peeked as he threw a pillow at my head and stood up from his previous sitting position.

“I said, I kissed her.”

It was the fourth time repeating it and naturally I was tired of saying it; saying it once already burned my tongue and made me remember how much trouble I could get in to, so at first I didn’t want to tell Louis but knew I had to because 1)he was my best friend, 2)we were living in the same apartment and quintessentially the same bedroom, 3)he was my best friend and 4)he would know I was lying anyway. So it was natural to not lie and right when I dropped my briefcase to the floor I let the confession roll off my tongue.

And here we were - Louis freaking out and yelling incoherently and throwing items of the living room at my head.

“Yes, Lou, I kissed my student okay? It’s not like I bloody made out with her, mate, I didn’t even kiss her lips.”

But this didn’t help Louis for he still kept jumping up and down and finally, after all his ammo was gone, grabbed a pillow for himself and fell to the hardwood floor.

“Harry, I’m all for you going after what you want and being happy, but you could loose your job, you could go to jail for god’s sake! And I know that you’re almost completely done with Jolene and all that shit, but is going after a teenage student a good idea?”

I stayed silent as I watched Louis watch me, complete and utter worry etched into his features, and in that moment I knew that Louis really cared. Not the caring I feigned for Jolene or the caring I had for my students, it was the caring you had for someone you truly cared about; someone who you couldn’t handle loosing. And I felt the same way about him.

“God, Lou, it feels nice to know you care about me so much but I know what I’m doing even though sometimes it doesn’t seem like it.”

Louis laid on the floor for a few seconds before a deep laugh bubbled from his chest and racked his body. He held onto the pillow and turned on his back so he could look up and see me also crippled over in contagious laughter.

“Let’s see how tomorrow goes then, yeah?”

“Yeah, let’s see.”