Cracks in Anchors

A cool breeze brushed back my bangs as my eyes coasted upwards toward the dotted sky. I pretended to understand the constellations and what they were called and where in the world everyone was meant to go. Was I meant to be a French teacher or did God have me destined for greater things? Who knew, and as I watched a descending shooting star, I decided it was futile just like the little kids who wished upon a dead star. Just as I was about to turn around and begin the short trek back to my apartment, a hand grasped itself around my forearm, and with a small groan I knew it was my current girlfriend at the time; Jolene. The feel of her smooth fingers pressing against my scratchy skin, the pressure of the silver ring she always wore on the pointer finger of her right hand and the unmistakable smell of lilacs and sea water that leaked from her open pores. Her child-like lips came into my vision as she stood in front of me; ruining my previous view of the pre-midnight sky.

“What are you doing out here so late, Harry?” I loved her, I did- at one point.

I don’t really remember when I started falling out of love, it’s almost as easy as falling asleep. All I know is that one day I didn’t smile whenever I saw her and the knowledge of her presence made me irritated. She was sweet, sure, and I didn’t like to see her used the way it seemed like I was using her - stringing her along and hoping that maybe I’d start to love her again. But I couldn’t, even though I tried so bloody hard. I tried to enjoy her company, I tried to want to kiss her and I tried to lust for her like I did merely a year ago. But I couldn’t; something prevented me from feeling that way and it felt like that same something gripped my shoulders and ripped me right out of the metaphorical world of love.

And left me out to dry.



“Harry, are you going out with the boys tonight?” Jolene’s voice ripped into my ears and made me cringe at the TV screen. I brought the coffee cup up to my lips and read the inscription in the rim; to my beloved soon to be son-in-law, love mommy Irene.

“Maybe, I don’t know.” The coffee dripped down my throat and I placed the mug down on the coffee table Jolene picked out. And I didn’t use a coaster, which I knew would make her pissed off, but I didn’t think those things were necessary and didn’t bother. Well, I did bother when I still cared, but lately I’d find myself oddly not-caring.

About the mug and inscription; technically Jolene and I were “engaged”, but it had been that way for almost six months and that was around the time when I started to drift away from my once life-partner. But I still played the part, I still lied to Jolene and told her I was looking up venues and shit, but I knew sooner or later I wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that I was doing none of that. Instead I toyed with the silver ring I only wore around the house and family functions, slipping it off and finding the bare ring finger a sigh of relief. Her mother, Irene, had given me the mug last Christmas as a present with a joking remark to go with it. I don’t remember it anymore, but knowing Irene it was something stupid that I had to laugh at.

“Well Louis called, he wants you to call him back as soon as possible.” She was rubbing away at the dinner dishes and I could sense the smile in her voice. And I just felt so shitty.

I leaned over the arm of the couch and grabbed the phone, tapping in Louis’s number and bringing it to my ear. I watched Jolene pad into the dinning room, grab something from one of the glass cabinets lining the right wall, return back to the kitchen and by that time Louis had answered.

“Where do you want to go tonight, Lou?”

“Hey Hazza, do you know where I put my heels?” I hated how she called me Hazza, it was like she thought she knew who I was; thought I was the man she once called Hazza and kissed at random times. But she didn’t know who I was, and it made me feel like I was betraying her every second I stayed when she called me that.

“Hold on Louis-”

“No I don’t!”

“-Okay sorry. So what are the plans?” A chuckle I knew as Louis’s vibrated against my eardrum. “We wanted to see if you’d want to come over to mine, we’re all hanging out and watching the game.” I didn’t hesitate a second; anything to get me away from my guilt.

“Yeah, when?” “Like, right now?”

I didn’t even say goodbye to Jolene.



“So Harry, how’s the teaching going?” Niall grabbed a handful of popcorn and situated himself back between me and Liam on the leather sofa. I shrugged my shoulders, trying to think of something worthwhile to tell.

“It’s fine, not too hard or anything. Oh, I do have on student, she’s a senior and her name’s Sullivan.” Zayn nudged my foot from where he sat on the floor, sending me a cheeky grin and shrugging when I glared back at him.

“What about her, mate?”

What about her? What was so special about Sullivan that she made my heart flutter? Why did she start invading my thought more than Jolene, why did she make her way into my dreams and why did I find myself thinking about her when I was staring into oblivion? Was it her black hair or cold eyes or the fact that she seemed so different? Was it because she liked to be forgotten in the crowd of kids, because she didn’t crave my attention like all the other girls? Was it because she seemed uninterested in me, Harry Fucking Styles?

“She’s just different. She doesn’t have friends and doesn’t really talk or anything.”

“Yeah, about that, I heard all the girls just love you, Mr. Styles.” Zayn grabbed the bowl from Niall’s hands and the room erupted in laughs and playful punches.

“So Sullivan, the one student who doesn’t find an interest in the sexy Mr. Styles? Hm, interesting.”

Interesting indeed.