Heavy Heart

It seems there is a new woman in Harry Styles’ life: this time, with a twist! Only Hazza could possibly pick up a girl by spilling an entire tray of piping-hot coffee all over her. That’s right! It seems that Britain’s sweetheart is now dating the one and only mystery girl, Daria Holmes.

Holmes, 19, was seen arriving at Styles’ North London mansion on Friday night and leaving with him in his car Saturday morning. When asked to comment, Styles’ press correspondent released a statement saying that, “Daria and Harry are in fact dating, but that is all Mr. Styles will to disclose, wishing to keep Daria’s private life away from the public.”

Always up for a challenge, The Sun went digging on some information on Daria Holmes. Discovered information includes that she is from Middletown, Connecticut and is an honors student at Wesleyan University, a premier university in the States, on scholarship. Her place of employment is a small hometown bakery in Middletown called the Yellow Spoon. She’s currently studying abroad at University of Birmingham in Birmingham, England, where it’s reported that Styles has been spotted on campus. The purpose was previously not known, but it is clear now that he was visiting Holmes. More digging revealed that her father, Alan Holmes, died tragically in one of the Twin Towers on September 11, 2001. She once won a science fair in high school for developing a theory on sociological behaviors, and her criminal record is clean as a whistle – not even a traffic violation.

For being a college student, Holmes appears to have the fashion sense of some of Styles’ more famous girlfriends – she was spotted entering his home around half six wearing a 3:1 Philip Lim sweater and what appeared to be a vintage Chanel shoulder bag and Cole Haan pumps. Saturday morning, she and Styles were seen leaving for lunch around eleven, and she was wearing his jumper.

All we have to say is – what is Harry Styles doing to pick up ladies in such a manner? And can he teach us a thing or two? Time to start placing your bets on how long this one will last ladies and gents. Our bet is until the semester ends and she goes back to Middle(of-nowhere)town.

Daria read the article back for what felt like the millionth time, curled up in her bed for the second day straight. The moment she got back from Holmes Chapel on Saturday, she went straight to her room to bunker down before the news broke on campus. She’d spent her time watching movies with Olivia – not even wanting to see Poppy and Litzy for fear of opening the door. In her heart, she knew that she needn’t be so cautious, but she was positively psychologically unprepared for something of that magnitude. Nothing exciting had ever happened to her before, just as the article outlined. She was at a complete and utter loss for how to react.

Harry was coming to Birmingham that afternoon to take her to lunch, in hopes of finally getting her to leave her room. So it was no surprise when her phone rang around one o’clock. She answered it without even checking the caller ID, pressing the cold glass surface to her ear.

“Hello?”

“Daria Eloise Holmes, what the hell is going on?”

Daria shot up straight in bed, her back stiff as though she’d gone into rigor mortis with shock. Everything around her came to a screeching halt. It was her mother.

“Mom!” Daria gasped into the receiver. Olivia too sat up straight in bed, pressing mute on Sleepless In Seattle and glancing at Daria with amazed, concerned eyes. “Oh my god, you have no idea how glad I am to hear from you.”

She truly was – in a crisis, every girl wanted helpful, meaningful advice from a caring mother. Up until then, Daria had Anne, but Anne was not her mother. “I see you’re off gallivanting with pop stars in England, according to what was published in People this week.”

“I tried to tell you,” Daria protested quietly, her hopes for maternal advice quickly deflating at the sharp tone of her mother’s voice. “All those times I called, I’ve been trying to tell you everything.”

Georgia deftly ignored her daughter’s protests and continued on her tirade. “This is absolutely disgusting. Appalling. I did not allow you to go to England for you to spend the night at some guy’s house and have it end up in tabloids worldwide.”

Something in Georgia’s words struck a nerve in Daria’s heart, plucking on a heartstring like a violin. Her excitement to hear from her mother turned into anger. The warm feeling she got when her mother said her name melted into a hateful burn, any hope of a happy reunion completely gone.

“You didn’t allow me to do anything,” Daria seethed, folding up The Sun and tossing it onto her desk. “I paid for this all on my own. I filled out the applications all on my own. I’ve put myself through everything all. On. My. Own. This was my choice and you never had a say in it, let’s just get this straight right now. Where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering my calls?”

There was silence.

“I can’t believe this,” Daria muttered as she pressed her face into her open hand. “I can’t believe you. I’ve been trying; I’ve been really, genuinely trying to get a hold of you, to share everything that’s been going on with me, to tell you how happy I’ve been the last month. But you couldn’t bother to pick up the phone until you had something to yell at me about.”

The silence suspended, allowing Daria to formulate more of an argument. Everything she’d been longing to say to her mother over the last month came to her tongue like hateful arrows, firing at will. Before, she planned on setting her anger aside when her mother called, willing to let it slide for the sheer excitement of being able to talk to her again. But that changed quickly.

“Can you blame me for leaving, if this is how you treat me?” she cried, jumping down from her bed and beginning to pace the floor. “Like I spurned you so terribly, like I was the worst daughter in the world and I deserved to be ignored? This may be news to you, but I’ve coddled you for the last eleven years and I needed to do something for me. And guess what. I’m happy!

“Yes, I’m dating Harry. But I’m getting fantastic grades. I’m making friends for the first time since elementary school. And in a week or so, I’m seeing a therapist. I’m taking steps forward. And it’s time that you do too. I’m trying to bring you forward with me, but if you want to get left behind that’s fine. I’m not going to help you anymore.”

There was still a silence on the line, her mother either furious or at a loss for words. In her anger, Daria lined up her entire arsenal and aimed it straight at her mother, unafraid of the aftermath. She was hurting too, just as much as her mother, and deserved more from her. But what happened next was perhaps uncalled for, even in Daria’s opinion.

“Just so you know, Harry’s parents are my host parents at Birmingham,” she spat spitefully. “And Anne has been more supportive of me in all this than you have. That should say something. You can call me when you have something nice to say. But until then, goodbye Mom.”

She promptly pressed the end button on her call. Standing there for a moment, all of her anger reached a boiling point, and she threw her phone at her bed, exuding a violent scream. Olivia’s eyes welled with tears, ever the one to feel others emotions as her own. She looked torn between going and hugging Daria and staying in her bed for fear of another outburst.

“I’m going to go wait outside for Harry,” Daria muttered, grabbing her coat and purse from the back of her desk chair. “I need some fresh air. If she calls again, you can take a message and then tell her to kindly fuck off.”

With that, Daria stormed out of the room, not knowing quite how to feel. She never told anyone off before, especially her mother – the fragile woman she took care of for the majority of her life. It felt good to put Georgia Holmes in her place after everything Daria had gone through on her own, when all she wanted was her mother to share in her success. But it was impossible to keep that panic at bay, regret churning in her brain.

“Well, if it isn’t our little celebrity,” a milky voice oozed from down the hall. She looked up to see Violet opening the door to her room, a crooked smirk underneath her upturned nose. “Off to see your boyfriend?”

Daria maybe had the guts to tell her mother off, but she certainly didn’t have it in her to fight away Violet’s cruel remarks. There was something about Violet – the posh lifestyle combined with the awful attitude, perhaps – that absolutely petrified Daria. Instead of yelling at her too, Daria brushed past her into the eight-man at the end of the hall.

Litzy was seated at her desk, fixing her makeup in a two-sided vanity mirror. “Hey,” Daria greeted weakly, tucking a loose strand from her bun behind her ear. “I’m not going to Modern Philosophy today. Would you mind signing me in if he passes around an attendance sheet? I need to get out of here.”

Litzy turned her gaze to Daria, her big eyes batting underneath long, mascaraed lashes. “Of course,” she insisted. “I get it. It’s a lot to take in.”

Daria sighed, leaning over and pressing her face onto Litzy’s shoulder, fighting to find the words to describe how she was feeling. “I haven’t left my room yet,” she mumbled into the silky fabric of Litzy’s shirt. “I don’t even know what’s going to be waiting for me out there, if anything. Harry’s going to take me out to get something to eat.”

“Good,” Litzy confirmed, slicking a coat of gloss across her lips. “It’ll be good for you to get out of your room. You can’t stay in there forever; one little article can’t get you down.”

She paused for a moment, lifting up Daria’s head to look her in the eyes. “But, I must say. I’m not unhappy about having my wardrobe praised all over the world,” she said with a wink. “I chose the right day to lend you an outfit, huh?”

Daria chuckled and shook her head, unsurprised at Litzy’s joking comments. “I think they Googled me and put everything they found in that article,” she muttered, pulling her coat on over her arms. “Unbelievably awkward.”

Daria gave her a weak smile, trying to let her know that she appreciated Litzy trying. “Have fun with Harry,” Litzy offered quietly. “Chin up.”

When she left the building, Daria found no flashing lights like there had been at Harry’s that fateful Saturday. Instead, she saw the staring eyes of her classmates, mostly female – those who had read the article and heard the gossip around campus and all over the Internet. The attention struck fear in her heart, nearly driving her back into Shackleton and under her blankets. Surely Harry wouldn’t be opposed to cuddling in her room for the rest of the day.

But instead she shook her head, bracing herself and folding her coat more tightly over her frame. It wasn’t going to end here; she wasn’t going to be able to go back inside and avoid the world forever. She needed to be brave, to put on her very best smile and walk through the crowds on the sidewalk, unafraid of what someone may say to her.

“I swear I saw him here with her last week,” a girl muttered to her friend as they passed Daria in the opposite direction, “I told you I did. Outside Shackleton.”

“She’s just so average,” another whispered as they saw her coming. “What can he see in her? I see nothing special.”

Daria was appalled at how freely her classmates were able to talk about her, as if she wasn’t standing right there. They stared at her with gossip hungry eyes, starving for more of the story. A part of her story that they could share in, something they could write home to their friends about. She sat down on the curb in the turn-around, tucking her knees up to her chest to wait for Harry.

“Will it always be like this?” she asked him when she got in his car, the faint notes of some song she’d never heard of playing from the radio.

“Will what always be like this?” he asked, his jade eyes focused unblinkingly on the road.

“The people talking and staring.”

“Yeah,” he responded after a moment. “Unfortunately, it probably always will be. It’ll probably settle down a bit, but it’s just going to be different Daria. You’re just going to have to fight through it. Let’s get some food in you, that’ll help.”

Daria stared out the window, the blue-grey of the sky blending with the neutral tones of the cityscape around her. Something told her that fighting through it would be enough to draw blood, and certainly enough to draw tears. And she wasn’t sure she was ready for that. She wasn’t sure she would ever be ready for that. But Harry reached over and took her hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze. And she decided she would try.