Cracks in Anchors

I never expected to feel this way towards Mr. Styles - my French teacher. Maybe a jock who was a perfect mixture of sweet and bad ass, but that was about it and only in my fantasies. I never expected to get so emotionally full when he told me in a cracking voice that he was now single and should be a father, and what made it even worse was that I got excited when he said he was single. Fucked up, right? He was probably with her for years and loved her to the moon and back and cried whenever he saw a father and daughter loving one another. He probably couldn’t help but hate her, because who wouldn’t? Who wouldn’t resent the person who was supposed to protect and develop your baby? But then again, I couldn’t picture Harry; the actual sweatshirt-clad 23-year-old who played video games and swore too much, torturing himself every day over something he couldn’t do anything about.

Still, it was fucked up of me to be hopeful about a person who just broke up with their fiancé.

“Sullivan, you there?” It was Helene, her dark hair twisting over her shoulder and deep eyes wandering into mine. She was back from college, a stupid extra week of Christmas break given, and brought her “almost-a-full-year” boyfriend, Travis, along. Granted when she called me two weeks ago with the big news that she was coming to visit, we squealed together and I thought it meant just her, not him as well. He was okay though, defiantly not a stalker douche bag who either needed to bum off her or just wanted sex, and his questioning eyes and shaggy hair made me realize he was the perfect match for Helene. They both were quite when in a crowd but loud with friends, always yearning for the next new adventure they could read about but never have, perfectly fine with having only two friends and staying in their rooms for days straight.

“I think she’s lost in her thoughts, Hel. Let’s just buy this, how can she not like it?” Travis was holding up a bag of mint chocolates, something both me and Helene loved, and instead of pretending like I was reading the prices on other foods, I laughed and turned to watch my best friend and her other half.

“That’s one of our favorite candies, we have to buy it.”

Helene nodded in agreement and dropped the bag into the cart, pushing Travis’s back with the cart and nudging him forward. And as I watched them, Travis giving Helene the finger in a loving manner and Helene telling him to fuck off and kissing after they both rolled their eyes at the same time, a feeling of intense yearning, like something infested itself in my veins and pooled together at the bottom of my heart, found its way into my bones.

I wanted something like that; a love where even if you pretended to hate each other you never could, a love that seemed impenetrable in all accounts. But I didn’t expect that to happen anytime soon so instead of watching them and wishing for that I walked ahead and scanned the various foods lining the shelves.

“Hey Sullivan, I heard you have a new French teacher and that he’s young and hot and British? Confirm or deny?”

“Confirm.” I blushed because technically I was admitting the fact that yes, in God’s name, Harry Styles was hot.

“Sounds like your kinda guy.”

“It’s like those shows where the student has an affair with the older male teacher,” Travis chirped in, grabbing a bag of chips in his hand and tossing it upon the pile of junk food we had already gathered.

“I don’t know,” I wasn’t sure if I should have told them about me and Harry’s personal time together or the cheek-kiss or the fact that he told me when he broke up with his fiancé, but by the look in Helene’s eyes I knew she knew I was hiding something and she was(and is) my best friend, so I continued, “he brought me to McDonalds once when I was supposed to be in math..”

“What?”

“Whoa, I feel like I’m in a TV show now.”

“He kissed me on the cheek once when we were at a class trip..”

“No way!”

“Oh god guys, this is like Twilight Zone shit.”

“And he told me recently that he broke up with his fiancé, and that awhile back she lost their baby.”

There, everything was out in the open and judging by the two’s expressions, they were just as shocked as I would have expected.

“Holy shit Sullivan, are you for real?”

“No, she’s just lying to give us a heart attack.”

Helene swatted at Travis tenderly and he pretended to be hurt when she looked back at me.

“Is this bad, then? Should I tell him to stop?”

“I mean, do you li-”

“Oh, ‘ello Sullivan.”

I would have known that voice from anywhere, and as I turned around I was face-to-face with my worst fear; Harry stood about an inch away from me and had one of those carry-basket things swinging at knee level. His voice was uplifted and his smile fanned out once I returned it.

“Oh, hi Mr. Styles.” I coughed once before sticking my hand out to Helene and Travis. “This is my friend Helene and her boyfriend.”

Recognition of the name Helene sparked in his eyes and he nodded, “Hello Helene and Helene’s boyfriend.”

Travis looked like a mix between a deer caught in headlights and a deer about to burst out laughing as he grabbed onto Helene to control himself, which as returned with a pat to the head by Helene.

“I’ve heard a bit about you, Helene. Glad Sullivan has a friend who doesn’t talk shit behind her back.”

I think they were surprised when he cursed because Travis almost choked to death on his own spit and Helene just stared wide-eyed. I’d learn later that in the moment she really didn’t know what Harry was saying and she could care less, she was too awe-struck by his “hotness” and “mother-of-god-he-looked-like-a-sexy-angel-”ness. Harry broke the awkward stillness by letting out a choppy laugh and swinging the mostly empty basket over his shoulder.

“Well, I’ll let you go, you probably just want to spend time with your friends. Nice to meet you Helene and her boyfriend.” He nodded at them. “And I’ll see you in class Monday, yeah love?”

I just nodded and when he turned to walk away, his hair ruffling against his exposed neck and sneakers rubbing against the title, I heard a gasp of air come from one of the two people behind me.

“My god, he is fine.”

“Hey.” Helene kissed him briefly on the lips to stop his complaining.

“But what’s with the ‘love’?”

“I think it’s just a British thing,” I said, shrugging my shoulders at my half-lie.

Because maybe it was a British thing, but I always got the feeling that he didn’t use it on me just because he was British, I think there was endearment in his voice whenever it came rushing out of his blush lips.
“Or something more. I think he likes you, I would know, he’s not that much older than I am, I know how he thinks.”

Was it that obvious to everyone else and not just me? Because then there would be a problem; not for me but for HarryMr. Styles.