Arabella.

Arabella Monterrey was slowly wearing down my last nerve and the worst part that she either didn't know or didn't care. It was starting to keep me up at night. I would sit on my porch and smoke angrily, scowling down the street as small embers fell to the ground. Why couldn't she just leave me alone? I couldn't shake the feeling that this thing with Arabella couldn't end well for us both, but felt powerless. It didn't matter - I could spend my whole life at Gem's or at the garage - and she would still find me.

I felt like I had reached the end of my rope by the time I told her to just leave, to go away if she knew what was good for her. She looked sad, big eyes losing a hint of their natural glimmer as she nodded and turned, skating down the street with a sad sway. I felt rude, mean, awful, even, but it was a necessary evil.

It was for our own good.



I thought the heat was really getting to me when I saw Perrie, of all people, standing in the garage’s office—Liam tried to make sure we were at least somewhat organized, at least to keep us out of trouble legally as far as paperwork went, so he handled that while Lou, Niall, and me handled the hands on portion of the business. Liam and I were the only people around. Lou was visiting his Ma and Ni was taking a ‘long lunch’ to go meet up with this girl he liked downtown. (We all knew it was Mercy, no matter how much he denied it. He would probably end up marrying the girl, if he didn't die first.) I tried to busy myself going through the tools in my toolbox, staring down at wrenches and hammers as I picked at bolts with my greasy fingers. I spotted her out of the corner of my eye and stared for a few seconds, glancing down quickly when she looked in my direction.

What could I have done now? I hadn't spoken to Arabella for about a week.

Her heels clicked hesitantly as she tried to find a place to step next on the cluttered floor. I didn’t look up again until she spoke, and even then I did it half heartedly.

“Harry,” she began. She was standing right in front of me, shiny black heels freshly polished. I glanced up, standing as I wiped my hands on a rag. Perrie was dressed as primly as ever, not a single hair out of place as she smiled awkwardly, almost uncomfortable. “I—” She stopped short, sighing. “I need your help.”

“What can I do for you?”

“It’s about Arabella.” I almost choked on my gum, coughing a little as I looked away. It didn’t seem to matter how much I tried to avoid that troublesome little girl, she just kept forcing her way back into my life despite all my efforts. “See, my dad bought me a car, which is okay, I guess, ‘cept Zayn and I use his car so I don’t really need it and I can’t drive stick anyway, you know? I’m barely home so if she wants to get around she has to walk or take the bus or call a cab, can you imagine?” She shook her head, opening her pocket book. I held back the urge to roll my eyes. I sincerely doubted Perrie had ever walked anywhere, or taken a bus, or cab, or had ever employed some sort of public transportation. “Anyway, I wanted to give the car to her, but she can’t drive, obviously, and I was asking around and I just wanted to know if you could maybe show her a couple of pointers or something? Give her a lesson or two?”

“I – I don’t know,” I said, chewing my gum slowly. “I mean… we’re kinda booked up, aren’t we Liam?!” I called out, looking past her.

“Actually Niall and Lou are on tomorrow and the day after that so you’re free for a while,” he said, wriggling his eyebrows at me as I tried not to scowl at him. I was going to have to kill him.

“C’mon,” she insisted, eyes pleading as she tilted her head, blinking her dark eyelashes quickly. “Is it the money? I can pay you—”

“No, I just—”

“Please? She’s smart. I’m sure if you just show her once or twice she’ll get it. I know you guys are busy and all and Zayn would do it if he weren’t going out of town to visit his family for a few days so…” She trailed off. “Please?”

“Uh… fine. Yeah. If I finish up here early, I could maybe, uh, try to come over. Maybe. If I have time.”

“Thanks!” Perrie exclaimed, pushing some her hair behind her ear. “I’ll let her know you’re coming,” she said as she started to walk out.

“I said maybe!”

She just looked back at me and smiled, chuckling.

“See you later, Harry.”



I looked down at my clothes, rubbing my sweaty palms against my Levis. Although they weren’t clean, per se, they were the cleanest pair I owned and only had a small motor oil stain right on the left pocket. I was wearing one of Lou’s white shirts because all mine were dirty and I didn’t really think Perrie would think any higher of me than she already did (and she didn’t think highly of me to begin with) if I showed up looking like I just came home from the garage. Which I mean, I really had just gotten home from the garage and I had taken a shower quick to at least try to get some oil and grease off, but it was still embedded underneath my fingernails. At least my boots looked okay.

As I stood there, I wondered how a girl who I had spoken to three or four times at most had wormed her way into my life so much that I was worrying about what I was wearing. How had this happened? Why?

I glanced behind me at the convertible sitting in front of the house. It was a Chevy, and brand spanking new since it did but even look like it had been driven anywhere after they brought it home from the dealership. It was a sweet ride, I guess, but Arabella was just a kid. I didn’t buy my first car until I turned 18, and I didn’t buy it so much as I stole it, but it was from the junk yard so it wasn’t like anyone was using it anyway.

Perrie answered the door, not a hair out of place as she smiled pleasantly.

“Harry,” she said. “You’re early.”

“You said quarter to five, didn’t you? I’m on time.” Perrie laughs, nodding as she sighs.

“For once.” I shrug as she moves aside. “Do you want to come in?”

“I can wait out here.” My palms grew sweatier as I heard some girls yelling in the house. Why was I so nervous? She was just a tiny little thing - harmless.

“Are you sure? I’ve got some pop in the fridge and Ari—” She stopped short, turning around as she sighed heavily. “If you keep running down the stairs, you’re going to break your neck.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Arabella mumbled, small little head popping up as she looked at me. “I thought you were getting me a real teacher.” She ignored the pointed look Perrie shot her, grabbing her pocketbook as she shot me a look. “But I suppose he’ll do just fine.”

“Be nice,” Perrie chided, rubbing her thumb against a small spot on her cheek. Arabella shied away from her touch, walking past her sister and me. Perrie and I looked at each other for a few moments before she pulled out her checkbook and started to write out a check.

“It’s on the house,” I said with a smile, shaking my head. She looked at me before looking down at her checkbook, shrugging. "Really. You don't have to give me anything."

“I want her back in an hour and—”

Arabella honked the horn loudly, interrupting her sister. I looked at her as she scowled, waving me over to the car.

“Let’s go!”



"See? It's really not that difficult," I said as Arabella came to a slow stop at a traffic light, glancing over at her. I felt awkward. She'd been silent for most of the afternoon, speaking up only if she needed to. I wondered if I had done something - said something - but I couldn't think of what. She sighed, nodding as she looked out her window. "Is everything okay?"

"Yep," Arabella answered, voice clipped. She shifts gear awkwardly when the light turns green, looking straight ahead.

"Are you sure?"

"I don't see why it concerns you," she almost hissed, changing gears hesitantly. Her hair fell in her face, but she flipped it over her shoulder quickly. "I'm fine."

I didn't know what to say back, so I didn't say anything, surprised by how she had reacted. I had hoped that if I left her alone, whatever I felt would go away, that she'd get over it, realize how stupid and irresponsible she was being, but it seemed like quite the opposite had happened. I didn't think I'd care if she ever let it go, but I found myself still slightly taken aback and surprised, and yes, disappointed.



So, Niall and I got invited to a party by Molly and Mercy. Of course, Lou and Liam tag along, since they're never far behind when there's a good time to be had. All I wanted to do at this party was drink, have a good time, and maybe even meet a girl or two. That was it. I felt like my life was finally getting back to normal, save for Arabella's weird attitude, and I was happy. But it seems that whenever I finally have it together, even a tiny little bit, the universe decides that it's the perfect time to shake things up.

And what better way to shake things up than with a girl who has a cheetah print coat and big brown eyes at a party where I know she shouldn't be, giving her coat to none other than Carl, this guy with a really bad pompadour, who smoked like a chimney and who had a penchant for going after girls who didn't know any better and could simply not take no for an answer. He was bad news - you didn't have to know him to know that, anyone could see it in the set of his eyes, how he walked, talked.

I wanted to scream, but settled for finishing my dance with Molly instead, who by that point had smoked enough of whatever was being passed around to not notice how upset I was. She kissed my shoulder sloppily, laughing as she tugged on my hand.

"Harry?"

"Yeah," I answered absently, watching as Arabella danced happily with Carl. I shouldn't have been mad - wasn't this what I wanted? I wanted to be left alone, and she gave me that, but Carl? Really? How did she even find out about him? Where was Zayn when I needed him? I make a face, following Molly's steps with disinterest. Arabella, in any event, seems to be having the time of her life, smiling widely as her pink skirt flutters around her knees. I'm furious and I shouldn't be, which only upsets me more.

"Let's find a room, huh?" Molly coaxed, tugging on the waist of my jeans. "I missed you."

"Uh... sure. Later, okay? I want to get a drink first," I said as the song ended. Molly pouted but let me go with a wink, biting her lip as she went off to her friends. I wanted to avoid Arabella at all costs, and had every intention of doing that as I walked across the house towards the kitchen to fix myself a nice, stiff drink. I jammed a cigarette between my lips, scowling as I lit it and grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the counter, pouring it into my empty flask. I took a few gulps, wiping my mouth as it burned it's way down. I forgot about Arabella for a few seconds, which was all I wanted, but when I heard her laugh - it was loud and pretty and annoying but distinctly hers - it only made me madder and slightly more curious, so I went to go see what the commotion was about.

Carl was spinning Arabella and she was laughing and smiling and he was touching her and I swear I saw red for two seconds. I wasn't, by nature, a jealous person. I thought it was stupid and base and I didn't have any reason to be jealous because if I saw something I wanted and didn't have, I could just take it. But I couldn't just take Arabella - I liked being in one piece, thank you. I wanted to scream. Instead, I sipped from my flask sullenly, watching them from my dark corner.

"You look really creepy when you do that," Niall quipped suddenly. I glanced at him and scowled, rolling my eyes as I flicked my cigarette. "I think the word Mercy'd use would be smolder or something like that. Yeah. You're smoldering."

"Shut up," I murmured, glancing back at Carl and Arabella. Was he the reason she'd been acting so strangely? "I'm not smoldering. Who says that, huh? That's such a stupid word."

"Mercy. And she seems pretty smart, so it can't be that stupid." I shoot him another look and sigh, almost relieved when he leaves her for a few moments. It takes all of my will not to stalk after Carl and bash a beer bottle on his head, grab Arabella, and storm out of there. She just bit her lip and pulled her hair off her shoulder as she wiped the sweat away. I had a feeling that she must have snuck out because there was no way in hell Perrie would let her little sister walk out of the house looking like that, with that much makeup and showing so much tan skin. "C'mon, Harry. Liam wants to play pong with some of the guys and he wants you on his team since I've got to go pick up Mercy." I sighed, but followed him, throwing one more glance over my shoulder. Carl handed Arabella a beer bottle (she was just a kid, and he should've known better) that she drank from giddily. I wanted to go after him, pound his face in until I didn't know where my knuckles ended and his face began.

I soon found myself sitting with Liam and some of our mutal friends, Randy and Roscoe. Niall bid us goodbye, whistling as he walked out the back door. Niall didn't care what anyone said about him and Mercy - he loved her and she loved him and as far as they were both concerned, that was all that mattered. Not that many people had much to say about them, seeing as Niall wouldn't hesitate to break some kneecaps over little Mercy.

For about an hour, I can distract myself and pretend that Arabella isn't in the next room, probably getting felt up by Carl, of all people. Liam and I win the first two rounds, Randy and Roscoe win the third, and by the fourth, they're both too drunk to keep playing. And Genevieve grabbed Liam when that new Elvis record came on, so I was left to my own brooding devices.

I suppose I'm a glutton for punishment, because instead of searching for Molly and taking her upstairs and leaving Arabella alone, I found myself in the cramped den again, watching Arabella dance. She looked dazed and tired, face pink and hair matted as she danced in a crowd of some of Carl's friends. Now, had it not been for the fact that I knew him and his scummy friends all too well, I could have just assumed that maybe she had one beers too many and that the heat had been getting to her. I could have left it at that and left the party. The only reason I was there was for her, anyway.

Arabella slumped against Carl, swaying breathlessly as she looked up at him. He almost kissed her, but she turned her head and turned around, trying to walk away from him and his friends, but they wouldn't let her go. Did he put something in her drink? I wouldn't doubt it. I would have left it alone - I wanted to - but when he touched her, pressing her against him, something just snapped. I don't know. I couldn't stop myself from shoving my way through everyone. I shouldn't have felt as good as I did when I shoved Carl, asking him what the hell was wrong with him. Arabella looked at me, tilting her head as she wobbled, almost falling. I wanted to hurt Carl, wanted to feel his bones snap and hear him beg for me to stop, but I had to get Arabella home or somewhere before she got sick. Or sicker, anyway.

She slapped my hands half heartedly, feeling more like a caress than anything else as she told me to go away, slurring something in what I'm guessing was Spanish, growing more and more upset, almost crying. She dug her hands into her coat, almost hyperventilating.

"Are you okay?" I asked once we were outside, watching as she wiped her nose slowly.

"Dejame tranquila," she spat, stumbling down the porch steps in her haste to get away. I followed, unsure what she wanted me to do. "What do you want? You told me to go away, so I'm going away! Leave," she slurred, sniffling. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"How are you getting home?" I asked, ignoring her pleas. She was right, after all - I had told her to leave me alone, but that didn't mean that she had to go after him, of all people. "Arabella - "

"Why do you care?" she asked, stopping short as she kicked her heels off, huffing indignantly. She turned around, flipping her damp hair out of her face as she scowled. "You were pretty busy with your girlfriend, anyway." She started yelling at me in Spanish, hands waving around furiously as her face got more and more. "Y eres un sinvergüenza, charlatan - "

"Okay, okay," I said, raising my hands sheepishly. "You're mad at me. I get that. I just - let me walk you home, okay? This is a really bad neighborhood."

She nodded grudgingly, crossing her arms. Along the walk home, I realized that taking her home to Perrie would be a bad idea. She was drunk, and probably high, and if I took her home, she'd assume that it was all my fault, even though I was trying to help. Arabella sniffled, grumbling angrily in quiet Spanish as she shot me a glare every few seconds.

"Who do you think you are?" she asked, slumping against me as I pushed my front door open. I tossed her coat on an empty chair, dropping her shoes near the door. "Eh?" She pushed against me, slapping me lightly. "Acting like - like you own me." Arabella hiccuped, gulping as I took her to the spare bedroom. "You don't - I do - it's not like you care, Harry. I saw you with her. Why does she get to - to kiss you?" She tugged at my shirt as I sat her down on the hard bed, almost slumping forward. "Is she pretty?" Arabella pouted as I reached behind her to unzip her skirt. I remembered how Gem didn't like sleeping in her party clothes, and seeing as Arabella smelled like smoke and spilled, stale liquor, I guessed she wouldn't want to wake up in those clothes either.

"No," I said as she leaned forward, lifting her hips as her skirt fell to the floor. She struggled with the buttons on her tight blouse, yawning as she looked down. She glanced at me, undoing them slowly.

"Then why were you with her?"

"Because I can't - this can't - " She started to cry, looking down at her lap as she struggled to breathe, undoing the last button with difficulty. "Arabella, we can't."

"Why?" Arabella pouted, shirt slipping down her arms as she sighed. She wiped her eyes slowly, sighing. "I don't care about - about my sister or Zayn - "

"But you should." After a moment, I stand up and look away - she's sitting on my bed in her underwear, drunk and crying and I can't see her like this, I just can't. "Want some water?" She nods and I leave, walking in the dark to the kitchen. I open the faucet and grab a glass, filling it about three quarters of the way before shutting the faucet off. When I walk back into the room, Arabella's leaning against the wall with the covers over her legs. She glances at me. I sit on the bed and she drinks the water, downing it almost all in one go. She wipes her mouth and watches me for a few seconds before grabbing my face, kissing me and rubbing her thumb against my cheek.

I say I'm a glutton for punishment because I kissed her back instead of telling her to go to sleep, because I didn't leave, turn out the lights, pretend none of it happened. Maybe if I had, none of this would have happened the way it had.