Arabella.

I liked to think of myself as a daredevil and someone who didn’t mind risking things and taking chances. What did I have to lose, right? A crummy house I shared (sometimes) with the guys down in the hood that was too cramped anyway? Ladybird, our Thunderbird? Jacqueline, the stupid stray that Lou insisted on keeping around? What?

I had very few things to my name: a picture of my ma and pop, a key to Gem’s apartment in case things get too heated at my place, some shirts and some blue jeans, the boots on my feet, my pocket knife, Ma's old ring, and my comb. That was it. And I was happy that way.

I was happy, damn it. And then she came and screwed it all up.



After Ma and Pa it was just Gem and me. It was fine - we were fine, damn it, and then she had to go off and marry that weird foot doctor from New York City who decided that he just couldn't have someone like me in his house because I didn't like to wear suits and didn't mind having a little bit of dirt underneath my fingernails. Big deal. Well, I guess it kind of was, until Lou told me that I couldn't keep walking around sleeping on park benches, and that I should just live with him instead. His ma got put in one of those convalescent homes 'cause she was getting pretty sick and Lou couldn't take care of her anymore, so he pretty much had the whole house to himself.

I just didn't realize how damn cramped the whole place was. First, there was barely enough room for Lou and that damn dog, plus he had Liam and Ni shacking up with him whenever things got too heated at their respective homes too. Lou obviously had dibs on his bedroom, and he wouldn't let anyone sleep or even go into his ma's room 'cause he thought that she'd come home one day and he had to keep her things nice and straightened out until then. So, of course, that meant we all slept on the living room on the couch, the arm chair, or the floor.

I guess it wasn't so bad when it was just Lou and me, but when Liam and Niall came down, it could get pretty hairy and dicey in the apartment.

I met her during one of those moments. See, what happened was that Niall was really particular about one of his pocket knives and Liam may have accidentally 'borrowed' it and never gave it back, and they were in the middle of a pretty nasty fight. I didn't want to get in the middle of it because it usually ended with Niall giving someone a shiner and it wasn't going to be me.

So off I went, grabbing the last cigarette from the pack on the table. I didn't bother locking up because it wasn't like we really had much of anything of value to begin with, and Liam and Niall weren't going anywhere anyway. I lit it up and walked down the street, narrowly avoiding a flying baseball. Kids were playing in the street, yelling and hollering and carrying on loudly. It was sunny, warm and beautiful, not a cloud in the sky as I wandered aimlessly. Maybe the neighborhood where Lou and I (and occasionally Niall and Liam) lived wasn't the best, okay - the police were always hanging around and someone was always screaming and carrying on, but it was home and we belonged and that's all that mattered.

She was rollerskating. I mean, skating, with these gaudy pink laces on stark white leather. Her white shirt stuck to her tan skin lightly, brown hair up in a ponytail on her head as she swayed, white skirt following her movements. She just looked so out of place, you know? She was... pure. Yeah, that's it. Pure. And happy. I mean, happy. You could just tell by looking at her that she was happy and innocent and sweet and just... herself. I don't know why I didn't keep walking. I don't know why I stood there gaping like a fish out of water and stared at her - I don't know.

But I do know that I don't think I've ever moved faster in my life than when she fell and busted her knee right open, blossoming red onto that damn skirt. She didn't even yell or cry or anything - she kind of just frowned and stared at the tear in her skirt and the blood dripping down her leg and onto the cracked sidewalk before looking up at me.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, laughing. "It's not as bad as it looks, really." She started to untie her skates, looking back down at her cut. "I'm really bad at this, I guess."

"Oh, I'm sure you're not that bad," I said awkwardly. Why was I even talking to her? Why didn't I leave? I should have left. This whole goddamn thing could have been avoided if I had just turned the other way and gone back to the house and split up Liam and Niall and brooded like I always did. She looked at me and smiled - and that did it. That was it. I was gone. Her smile wasn't special or magical or any of that stupid poetic nonsense. Her smile was crooked and her lips were chapped and her front teeth had a gap - tiny but still there - but still wide and happy and bright. It unnerved me. She laughed, shaking her head as the corners of her eyes crinkled and she looked back down at her fingers, undoing the knot deftly. She tugged the left skate off first, pulling her white sock up past her ankle.

"You don't even know me." She pulled the right one off next, standing up. Her long hair flipped over her shoulder as she looked up at me.

"Let get to know you, then." I even smiled - I never smiled, damn it - dimples and all. All she did was scoff and throw her head back, shaking her head as she turned away from me.

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

Before I could say anything else, she was already walking across the street, even though I'm pretty sure the sidewalk was burning up, opened the chain link fence and walked right into the big yellow house, slamming the door loudly as if to make a point.

"Well, I'll be damned," I mumbled under my breath, tossing the cigarette.



I thought it would stop there. I really did. She was just some girl, and I was just some guy, and that was okay. I had bigger and better things to think about than some girl who couldn't keep her balance and wouldn't fall prey to my charms, I really did. Or at least I did until I saw her at a party with Zayn.

Lou and Zayn were friends. Of course they were. Zayn was friends with everyone - the kid had connections in all places because of it, so I couldn't really begrudge him his friendly, carefree attitude - including Lou, Niall, Liam and myself. So, of course, he invited us over for a 'casual get together' that very quickly turned into a full blown party. I went, mostly because I wanted to get my mind off her.

(Impossible, but I tried.)

And then they came over to say hi and I wanted to die because I couldn't talk and I couldn't breathe and she was just there and she was a lot prettier than I remembered her being (but granted everyone looks a lot more attractive when they're not bleeding on a hot sidewalk) and I didn't know what was even going on or what was being said because she was just there and kept looking at me and chewing her bubblegum slowly, a small smile on her face.

"Harry?" Zayn asked. I glanced over at him, unsure what we were all talking about since I hadn't been paying attention. "Is there problem?"

"What? No. I'm fine." I flicked my cigarette against the floor, meeting his gaze evenly. (Looking away from him meant that I was backing down and I wasn't - couldn't, because she was there and watching me for reasons I couldn't understand.)

"The fuck you starin' at then?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Nothing, I was just - "

"Oh, so my girl's little sister's nothin', then?" he cut in, jerking an angry thumb at her. She was his girlfriend's sister. She was Perrie's sister. I could feel the blood pounding in my ears. "Huh?" He shoved me then, breaking me out of my thoughts. "I'm talkin' t'ya, Styles."

I shoved him back, tossing my cigarette on the floor.

"Wanna try that again?" I asked, scowling. Zayn balled up his fist and I braced myself for the impact, just in case I didn't dodge his flying fists quick enough.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, getting in between us. "That's enough, Zayn." He frowned at her, eyes angry as he groaned in frustration.

"Arabella - " He sighed, closing his eyes. "I'm takin' you home. I shouldn't have even brought you here in the first damn place. Perrie's gonna kill me once she finds out I snuck you out and - "

"I don't want to go home."

"We're going. You don't wanna see your sister get mad," he insisted, tugging her along by her elbow. "I'll deal with you later, Styles." I simply smiled and laughed, waving.

"Can't wait, Zayn."

Arabella looked back at me and smiled - I mean, really smiled, bright white teeth and all - as Zayn stormed out of the house with her in tow.

"'S good to know you have a death wish, Harry," Lou said snarkily, finishing his beer. Arabella burst back into the house, grabbing a cheetah print coat from the cramped, cluttered closet next to the door, waving her fingers at me a little. "Out of all of the girls in Chicago, you have to be making eyes at Arabella, whose older sister is dating Zayn and now he wants to bash your face in but why would you care, right? Classic. Classic fuckin' Styles right there," he continued, rolling his eyes as I glanced over at him. "

"Shut up, Lou." Niall, who had missed the most of the confrontation because he was talking to Mercy, a girl he was seeing on and off for about a year or so, looked at me and grinned.

"Ya saw her again, huh? Yer blushin' like nobody's business."

I scowled at him, taking an angry drag of my cigarette.

Arabella would be the end of me. I could already feel it, but I'd be damned if I didn't go down swinging.