Anti Blue Skies

They say time is supposed to heal a broken heart. Well, it was two and half weeks later and I was still feeling pretty crummy. Like walking in circles and starting back at square one. I’ll admit, almost three weeks is hardly long, but I couldn’t help but be impatient, waiting for the day I would wake up and miraculously feel better.

But maybe it wasn’t that simple. Maybe it was something that had to get worse before it got any better.

That thought crossed my mind while I found myself in the middle of an aisle at the grocery store, holding a can of baked beans in my hand. The feeling of my heart sinking to my stomach made me nauseous. I tried blinking back the tears that formed faster than I could say ‘crap’, and before I knew it, Quinn’s voice was piercing through the air.

“Are you seriously over here crying over a can of beans?” She mocked, strolling even closer with our cart of groceries. “Cut the shit, Lydia.”

I sniffled, swiping a finger at my eye to make sure tears couldn’t fall. “Louis said his mum made the best baked beans.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” She hissed, yanking the can out of my hand and tossing it back onto the shelf before pointing at an area behind me. “Get over it and grab a bottle of mustard. Oddly enough, we’re all out. We don’t even like mustard!”

I couldn’t stop the dramatic sigh that escaped my lips as I threw the bottle into our cart not-so-gracefully. I’d much rather be laying in bed, watching an endless supply of House on Netflix and eating four bags of chips at once, but Quinn insisted we go grocery shopping.

“Now follow me to the dairy section. I need to grab string cheese.” Quinn ordered sluggishly, flipping the cart around.

“I could care less about your string cheese.” I sneered, pinching the space above my nose. “I want to go home.”

She looked at me for a split second before turning around completely, taking off for another aisle. I didn’t miss the roll of her eyes, either. Usually I would be offended, but I couldn’t muster enough energy to care.

Knowing I wasn’t going to get any more of a reaction out of her, I followed suit, eventually standing next to her while she curiously looked at the cheese in front of her. Her thick, smudgy eyeliner made me wonder if she could even see. Was that a necessity in order to be in a band? Did dark makeup, a grungy hairstyle, and black nail polish make up for the fact that her guitar playing was complete trash? Call me rude, but I was fed up with being kept awake at night listening to her aimlessly strum some chords in her room.

“Mozzarella or marble jack?” She wondered aloud, holding them both in each hand and pulling me from my thoughts.

Her brown eyes shifted between the two in a matter of milliseconds, but to me, it felt like a lifetime. I didn’t care what kind of cheese she preferred and I especially didn’t care about grocery shopping right now. Why did she even need me to come? We’ve always done our own shopping on our own time.

I was a patient person, I always have been, but faster than usual the feeling of utter agitation swept through me as I heard Quinn hum, deep in thought.

“Marble...yeah, marble sounds good.”

We moved closer to the milk while I crossed my arms feeling chilled by the cold emanating off the fridge. I watched as Quinn stood between the cart and the open door, staring down two kinds of milk. Another dramatic sigh pushed through me. I couldn’t wait to be back in bed, away from Quinn and her stupid decisions.

“Hmm, skim or two percent?”

With the roll of my eyes, my mind traced away from Quinn and back to the person who had been on my mind for the past two and a half weeks…. Louis. I missed his blue eyes and the way they looked at me. I missed the goosebumps that took over my skin with every touch of his hand. His lips…. Oh my God his lips. They made every kiss feel like the first.

There it was again. The slow, sinking feeling of whatever was left of my heart dropping straight to my stomach. Then that burn behind my eyes boiled again and when that happened, I got frustrated because I wondered how much time would be enough time to heal me. And when I got frustrated, I got sad. And when I got sad, the tears fell.

Everytime.

Without fail.

I looked up to the ceiling and tried blinking away the tears, even though I knew from experience that it never worked. It was too quiet, I needed sound. I needed the sound of an episode of House and his sarcastic humor.

“I should get the two percent,” Quinn nodded and put the other carton back in the fridge. “Skim tastes like water and if I wanted water, I’d buy it.”

I stared at the ground, hoping she wouldn’t see me pathetically crying. I couldn’t help it. Now I was basically crying because I was tired of crying. We made it as far as three feet before Quinn suddenly stopped in front of the frozen dinner selections.

“Ooooh,” she remarked excitedly, walking over to open the freezer. I noticed she was eyeing the chicken pot pies, but that wouldn’t help her make a decision any faster.

Holding two boxes in her hands, she bit her lip, deep in thought. “Chicken or pork? Pork or chicken?”

With my heart all the way in my stomach, I was more annoyed than I had been in a very, very long time. Without hesitation, I groaned and stomped right up next to her. Her eyes flashed to mine with curiosity, but I ripped both boxes out of her hands, chucking them into the cart before she could process what was happening.

“What the fuck was that for?” She shouted, flailing her hands.

“Nothing, just get them both! It’s a bloody t.v. dinner, Quinn! Not that hard.” I shouted back and flailed my hands even harder than her, boiling over in annoyance.

Her face fell into an angry frown, drawing her eyebrows together. “Oh, right! I forgot you never have to make any decisions. Your arse just gets everything handed to it with the flick of your wrist or a flash of your big, blue eyes, yeah?”

Now I was the one with furrowed brows. “What are you--”

“Sometimes the pork is too much money o-o-or would rather be taken home to somebody else’s kitchen, ya know? Like, you don’t want to pick the pork and then realize you should’ve picked the chicken all along.” She was stuttering nonsense at that point, chaotically grabbing the frozen dinners out of the cart. I was confused, which only made my intolerance to Quinn that much more unbearable.

“Then get the chicken,” I blatantly stated.

She slammed the freezer shut and I jumped. When she turned back around, steam could have been coming out of her nose and ears. “Are you that fucking stupid?”

I was caught off guard, heat rushing to my cheeks when I realized Quinn’s eyes weren’t the only ones staring at me. If looks could kill, I would drop dead in a second.

“God, you’re so daft sometimes! Did you really think I just wanted some roommate bonding time with you or something? Newsflash, I have better things to do and better people to do things with.”

I grinded my teeth, taking her insult with a grain of salt. Usually, I would get all bent out of shape about her saying mean things to me. Hell, if anyone said mean things to me. It was basically the story of my life. But right now, I was angry and wanted to fight back.

“Then why am I here, Quinn?” I held up my hands, shouting the question. A leftover tear fell off my cheek, and I cracked. “You asked me to come here with you. Not the other way around. If you hate me so much, why can’t you ever just leave me be?”

“Leave you be? How can I? You’re unavoidable!” She took a menacing step closer to me, pointing an accusatory finger. “Our walls are paper thin. I can hear you crying and moping about.”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Play your guitar, then. I don’t care anymore. Sorry I’m such an inconvenience to you.”

“You still don’t even get it,” she scoffed, clenching her hands into fists by her hips. “You just sit in your room crying…. day in and day out. And for what? Some pompous prick who cheated on you?”

I rubbed my shoulders, still feeling the tears dancing in my eyes. “I don’t expect you to understand--”

“I understand. Okay? I do. I know what it’s like to think “hey, I actually really like you” for them to just kind of be like “nope, sorry. Too bad.” I know it sucks. I understand....but you don’t.”

How dare she say I don’t understand. I was the one in this mess, not her. I went to speak, but nothing came out, so I just hung my head while staring at my hands I was holding together in front of me.

I peeked up through my lashes to notice Quinn’s eyes becoming glossy, rimmed with red. Even her dark black eyeliner couldn’t hide that fact. It hit me then. It hit me right in the heart I thought had fallen to my stomach. I knew exactly why she was getting so upset and it made me feel like a complete idiot. Harry

“See, Lydia?” She cried, her voice cracking as she motioned towards her eyes. “While you cry over pork, you could be eating some really tasty chicken. Like, the best chicken.” She tried to laugh while she swiped underneath her eyes, but it was forced.

My heart broke for her, so I did something I never thought in a million years I’d ever do. I stepped forward, wrapping her up in a hug. In an instant her hands slid behind my back while she cried into me, not holding back.

My eyes shut before I let out a breath of air I hadn’t noticed I was holding. As she clutched to me, guilt set in, hitting me like a ton of bricks as I remembered why I had always took it upon myself to stick up for Quinn. I knew she wasn’t a bad person, she was just a girl in love with someone who didn’t love her back. That would make anyone bitter.

Exhaling, I told myself Louis wasn’t worth any more of my tears.

I’ve never had a big taste for pork anyways.



Later that night, Niall invited Manny and I to his place. He was having another party, which I assumed was something he did a lot considering his family basically abandoned him. What else was he supposed to do with a house that big and secluded? He must get pretty lonely. Apart from the fact that Harry was now crashing at his place, but let’s be real, sometimes Harry wasn’t the best company.

Manny and Niall had seen each other almost every day since their first date, this time without using Harry and me as a safety net in case they didn’t hit it off. Now, there was no denying their chemistry.

“Nine letter word for sofa….” Manny trailed off, tapping her foot on my dashboard and prodding her lip with the cap of the pen while she stared intently at the crossword in her lap. She had taken the time to curl her hair, accentuating her tight black top that cut a little too low. Manny-fashion at it’s finest.

“It’s a bloody sofa!” She exclaimed, looking to me with wide eyes. “There’s no reason for a couch to have nine letters. What is this nonsense?”

I giggled watching as she folded the crossword back up, sticking it between her seat and the passenger door. “It’s davenport.”

She looked at me with her mouth slightly open. “Damn it Lydia, do you have to be book smart all the time?”

I laughed again, signalling my blinker to the left while I pulled up to a stop sign. “I’m not that smart, you just give up too easily.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, staring out the windshield. “Whatever, I’m so over it. We’re almost to Niall’s anyways.” Then she sighed, “I miss him.”

I smiled. “You just saw him yesterday.”

“I know,” she answered, pulling her phone out of her back pocket. I assume it was to text him. “But I miss him all the time.”

“You got it bad, Manny.”

“I know right?” She laughed. “I don’t know what it is but like, I see him and I can’t get enough. Isn’t that gross? Hate me. Hate me, Lyds.”

We erupted in laughter as I pulled onto that familiar gravel road. The one whose trees reminded me of the secret garden. Manny couldn’t get enough of Niall and I couldn’t get enough of this scenic location.

“I’m too happy for you to hate you.”

The corners of her lips turned upright. “Thanks, girl. I love you for it.”

“Love you, too.”

“You know what else I love?”

“Hmm?” I mused, but when she smiled wide, dimples pressed into her cheeks, I immediately knew what she was going to say. I could read her mind in ways no one else could.

“Penis,” she told me. Yup. I was right. “I love penis, I’m not ashamed. Maybe if Niall plays his cards right tonight he’ll be seeing a lot more of me than what this shirt allows. And this shirt allows a lot.”

“So you’re gonna ditch me?” I teased.

“You can come with if you want?”

“Ew, no thanks.” I frowned. “Have fun. Ditch me all you want, but just know that you’re leaving me all alone with Harry.”

“Lydia, I swear to God if he tries anything or makes you uncomfortable, it’s Niall’s ass I’m going to be ditching. I will rescue you so fast, you have no idea.”

I smirked because I had a really great best friend and I didn’t deserve her. My eyes looked at her quickly as I turned into a fake parking spot in Niall’s endless front yard. “Love you for it.”

When I pulled the key out of the ignition, revving the engine down and the radio off, we could hear how loud and obnoxious Niall’s party was. I looked through the window at the flashing lights and people walking around holding solo cups while Manny smeared on some red lipstick. This was definitely a party Quinn would usually never miss out on, but when I asked her if she wanted to tag along, she told me she’d rather tie a brick to her leg and sink to the bottom of the ocean. Safe to say I left it at that.

Manny and I hopped out of my truck (which I was very happy survived the long drive here) and started trudging up the slight hill to the house. The music was reverberating on the ground beneath our feet and through the multi-story glass windows I could see a game of darts and beer pong being played near the kitchen.

A familiar head of dark curls, pulled back with a headband, popped into my line of vision. He was resting his elbow on a wall, drink in hand, and one leg bent behind the other as he nodded his head along to a small girl who from what I could assume, was talking his ear off. Just then, Manny latched onto my hand, yanking me forward to keep up.

“I can hear Niall’s obnoxious laugh all the way from here. Let’s go say hi.”

I let her pull me around and to the back of the house. Once again Niall was drinking a beer, standing by the fire, only this time he was roasting a marshmallow over it.

“Niall, your girl’s here mate,” one of Niall’s friends told him, making our entrance known.

Niall peeked up at us, his blue eyes turning amber in the light of the fire. A glimmer flashed across them when he saw Manny, a spark similar to the flames in front of us. He went to open his mouth but nothing came out.

One of the other guys surrounding the fire sluggishly draped his heavy arm around Niall’s shoulder, laughing. “It’s a miracle. Niall’s speechless.”

Everyone drunkenly laughed while Manny slid up next to Niall, effortlessly wedging herself underneath his arm. He smiled down at her, kissing her on the forehead then twice on the lips. A pang shot through me, giving my heart that heavy feeling again. Not because I wasn’t happy for them, but because I just missed having that connection with someone. Although, watching them be all wrapped up in each other--so much so they didn’t realize Niall’s marshmallow was now a flaming torch-- I knew I didn’t have with Louis what Manny and Niall have for one another. In just a few weeks no less.

Manny giggled as Niall held out the marshmallow so she could blow it out for him. Then they both erupted in giggles when she tried to help him slide it into two graham crackers and it ended up on the ground.

“Alright, let’s try this again.” Niall smiled, reaching for the bag on the picnic table.

“Lydia, you want one? I can’t promise I won’t burn it into oblivion, though.”

I shook my head, but smiled at the offer. “No thanks. I think I’m gonna go inside. It’s a little chilly out here.”

I was lying. So obviously lying. Manny gave me a look of concern.

“Do you want me to go with you?” She asked me, breaking off some chocolate to use for Niall’s s’more.

I was already edging away from the fireplace, antsy to see Harry for reasons I couldn’t explain. “No, no. That’s okay. You stay here with Niall. I know how much you’ve missed him.”

Niall and his buddies laughed at Manny who just rolled her eyes. Walking up the path to the house, the smell of cigarettes was evident near the wrap around deck where everyone was bumming smokes off one another. I didn’t recognize a single person.

I was trying to make my way to the back patio door, but it proved to be a very difficult feat with all the people. Chatter was everywhere and it didn’t matter where I looked, I was face to face with someone either way. My shoulders tensed as I pushed past people and I hated how my anxiety flared up in social situations. Thanks high school, you were great to me.

A dark, raspy voice spoke into my ear from behind, but I could feel the heat radiating off his body before he even opened his mouth. “Hey, I really like your scarf….thing. S’pretty.” He muttered, bringing his finger and thumb up to pinch the fabric wrapped loosely around my neck.

“Oh, thanks.” I replied, shyly turning away from him to keep trudging through, but he grabbed me by the wrist before I could take a step. He had calloused, chubby fingers and when I looked him in the eyes--which I had been trying to avoid--it was easy to see how bloodshot and glazed over they were.

“I really ya know, fancy this watch too. S’neat and shiny.” He spoke slowly as if he really had to focus on the words coming out of his mouth. “And I can see that your hair his up,” he added, pointing to his own head with a lopsided grin. “But I can tell you’ve got a lot of hair….”

I laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, I have long hair. So do you.” I pointed out to his shoulder length hair. It was dark and thick to match his unruly eyebrows.

Just then, his eyebrows were a lot closer to my face than they were a couple seconds ago as he leaned in for a kiss? A hug, maybe? Instinctively, my arms shot forward, but there was no need, he was already being torn back.

“Alright, Leonard. I think it’s past your bedtime, bud.”

Finally, a voice I recognized all too well. One that zapped me with a bolt of electricity. Right now I didn’t feel nervous or intimidated to see him, I felt relieved because he was good at pulling me out of situations I didn’t want to be in. And putting me in them. But that’s besides the point.

Leonard pouted like Harry was actually some authoritative figure in his life. “Noooo. But the party--”

“The party wants you to leave the pretty girl alone.” Harry continued, wrapping his arm around Leonard and pulling him in another direction, pushing him on his way before turning back to me, a cheeky smile on his face and an arm offering me a cup. I wasn’t sure what it was but it smelled fruity and delicious so I accepted.

“Hi,” I said quietly.

“Hi.”

“Thanks for that. And this.” I held up my cup, taking a sip. I peered up at him from above the rim of the cup, eyes squinting as I hid my smile. “Always savin’ me.”

He gave me a crooked smile as I recalled the time Harry saved me from Ron’s douchebag ways and when he picked Manny and I up at the parking garage. His timing is always impeccable.

Tonight he was wearing a grey, long sleeved shirt and dark jeans. Boots to match, of course. I didn’t know how he did it, but he could make a trash bag look fashionable. He just had something about him. I hadn’t seen him since he punched Louis in the face and I kissed him on the cheek.

Harry kinked a brow as he tilted his head slightly towards Niall’s house. “Wanna go inside? It’s a little nippy out here.”

It was my turn to kink a brow. I told the same lie around Manny and Niall a few minutes ago.

Once we were inside, sitting by the bar in the basement where the pool table was, I regretted ever saying I was cold in the first place. With all the people, the house was no glamorous spot to be. Between a nightclub and Niall’s house, Niall’s house wins by a landslide for most sweaty people in one location.

I crossed my leg, finishing off my drink quickly while Harry gave me a funny look with his eyebrows raised high.

“Sorry,” I laughed. “It’s just, I really needed that.”

“Don’t tell me you’re still sulking about what’s-his-name.” He said slowly, sounding more than a little annoyed while he poured a shot of vodka for me.

I cringed. “You mean Louis?” I cringed again after downing that shot, but after saying his name out loud, it was much needed.

“Who?”

I furrow my brows. “Louis.”

“Who? What? Come again?” Harry jokes, holding his hand to his ear.

I nod. “Okay, I get it. I see your point.”

I was smiling as I watching him mix me another drink. I wasn’t sure what it was but I trusted him. I also trusted his form of tough love. Maybe it was best to just block out Louis entirely. Forget he ever existed.

“Here, try this. But try not to inhale it, yeah? I don’t want you plastered or I’ll have to take care of you all night.”

I took a sip and holy shit, was there even alcohol in this?

“I know what you’re thinking and yes, a lot. So be careful.” He grumbled.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, dad.”

That got a little snort out of him.

“You look…. nice tonight, Lydia.” Harry says quietly. The music is blaring and people are shouting, but I hear him clear as day.

If you told me a few months ago that Harry would be complimenting me on my appearance, I would have called you a nut job. But here he was, blushed cheeks and crystal green eyes, telling me I looked nice. It made my stomach flutter, but maybe that was the vodka burning my insides.

When I glanced up at him, I smiled brighter than I had smiled in a while and thought no, it was definitely him.

“Thank you,” I whispered. He read my lips and we both took a drink at the same time. I even took an extra gulp, just because I liked the taste.

I cleared my throat, gaining a surge of confidence. Most likely from the alcohol. “Do you want to dance?”

His face went tight. “You don’t dance.”

“True,” I tell him. “But I want to try. With you.”

I studied has face and when I didn’t get an answer out of him right away, I began to panic. Who was I kidding? He was right. I don’t know how to dance. I’m not good at being sexy. I was good at a number of odd things like hair styling and waitressing and making my bed after waking up and giving people the benefit of the doubt, but dancing? No.

“I’m sorry, don’t answer that. I’m sure you have like, a billion other girls you’d rather dance with. I’m pretty sure I have two left feet anyways, so you--”

“Lydia, shut up.” He sighed, his fingers wrapping around my arm while he reached across the counter. “You wanna dance? Let’s dance.” And then he smiled a crooked smile. “Try not to step on me with those left feet of yours.”

“I’ll try.” I nodded, setting down the rest of my drink and taking off my scarf before slipping my hand in Harry’s as he walked me towards the mosh of people. The speakers in Niall’s basement were bigger than speakers I’d seen at concerts, granted I’d only been to one.

I wasn’t nervous until Harry turned to me, the flashes of lights turning his eyes into every shade of green in existence. And either he was psychic or I was painfully obvious with my body language because he was reaching for my hips almost immediately.

“Don’t think about it, just try to feel the music and let your body do the rest. Trust me, everyone is a good dancer.” He instructed while I tried my best to rock my hips to the rhythm of his hands. I was kind of failing miserably.

“You sure about that?” I frowned

He rolled his eyes. “I mean, everyone has the potential to be a good dancer.”

Surprisingly, Harry was a good dancer himself. It wasn’t anything crazy flashy, no signature moves or anything, but he was good with his hips and hands. I questioned whether hands had anything to do with dancing, but when one of his slipped around my waist and the other moved to tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear, I decided yes.

Another woman’s rear end knocked into me, causing me to rub right up against Harry so we were now chest to chest. I held my breath, but watching him smirk and lick his lips gave me a certain surge of energy I needed to finally let loose. It helped that my drinks were really starting to kick in, too.

I reached up, circling both of my arms around Harry’s neck, one hand raking through his hair. His groin shimmied up against mine sent a jolt of electricity through my entire body. My blood felt like it was boiling and I couldn’t stop getting closer to him. He was right. The less I thought about dancing, the better I got at it.

We got into our own rhythm while the music escalated. Soon, the corny, friendly smiles were no longer on our faces. I was sure I was looking at him like I wanted to eat him for dinner because that was the look he was giving me. I was turned on in ways I didn’t know I could be when our eyes locked and the beat dropped and his face inched closer and closer until finally all I had to do was eat that giant piece of chicken my body was so desperately hungry for.

But I couldn’t.

“Lydia, wait.” Harry pleaded after I pushed him away unexpectedly.

“Don’t, Lydia. Don’t leave!” He shouted, latching onto my wrist, but I was quick to pull away.

We looked at each other with faces full of guilt. I would have kissed him, hell I wanted to kiss him. But there are just so many emotions that jumble inside me when it comes to Harry. I’m supposed to hate him, right? Then why was it so easy to want him? Do I have any right to hold a grudge? Because lately, Harry had been doing everything right. Then there was Louis. I hated to admit it, but I missed him.

What’s wrong with me?

I swallowed with a dry throat. “I just need some air.”