Luck

It wasn’t terribly late when I returned to the flat. It got dark earlier in London than it did in Boston, and the sun had already set. Streetlamps lit the way as I made the trek from the Tube station to my flat. Still, it wasn’t more than nine when I arrived back. My first order of business was to call my grandparents and warn them that I would be coming for a visit tomorrow.

I rang my grandmum and she picked up on the second ring, which wasn’t surprising. My grandparents were agile for their age, and incredibly sharp, which could have been part of the reason Harry didn’t like them much. They weren’t the typical old people who you felt sorry for; they just seemed grumpy and bored. Order and discipline were their friends, and with so much time on their hands, they always tried to ensure everything was in tip-top shape and organized. Regardless, they were my grandparents and had been incredibly supportive and helpful to me, more so than I could have ever asked them to.

“Hello? Who is this?” My grandmum’s crisp voice filled the air.

“Hi, Nan,” I responded, “This is Savannah.”

“Savannah, hello,” her voice noticeably relaxed after I revealed my name, “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” I assured her, “I’m enjoying school.”

“Oh, good,” she hummed, “Are you still babysitting for that lady?”

“For Lou? I still am,” I confirmed, “I’m enjoying it.”

“That’s wonderful,” my grandmum continued, “You are so lucky to have found a job right off the bat like that. Some people spend weeks looking for one! The economy has been no good lately.”

“I am!” I agreed, “Anyways, my, uh…” I trailed off for a second, unsure of what to refer to Harry as. He wasn’t exactly a friend, but he certainly wasn’t a stranger, either.

“What was that?” my nan broke through my thoughts and I realized I had to continue.

“This kid I know lives up in Holmes Chapel, and he offered me a ride up tomorrow for the weekend. So is it okay if I come stay for the weekend?” I blurted it out awkwardly and rapidly.

“Of course,” my grandmother seemed to understand, despite my babbling, “Are you sure you don’t just want to take the train? It’s probably faster than driving.”

“But also way more expensive,” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?”

“No, I think I’m fine just driving. Get to see the countryside that way!” I said it with a fake smile plastered on my face, despite being on the phone and my nan having no way to see me.

“Whatever you say, love,” she conceded, “What time will you get in?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I confessed, “But I’ll call you when we’re close.”

“Alright then,” my nan said agreeably, “Goodnight, Savannah. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

[&&&]

At exactly 7:28 in the morning, Harry pulled up to my flat. He had told me 7:30 when he had texted me the night before, so he was right on time. When I was in high school, I had never once been late to class, unless it was excused. Timeliness was a virtue, and I was pleased that he was early.

Much to my surprise, Harry climbed the stairs to my flat and came to get me. My window looked down on to the main street, and I had been waiting for him, which is how I knew that he arrived at exactly 7:28. I swung the front door open the second before he knocked, and, judging by the look on his face, he was quite startled.

“Uh, hi,” he sputtered.

“Hello!” I greeted him, “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Yeah, it was no problem,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “Shall we get going?”

I nodded, and the two of us headed down the stairs. It was two flights down, something I didn’t mind too much, but seemed to irritate Harry.

“There’s no lift?” he asked.

I shook my head, “No. We’re poor students. Haven’t got the money to pay for a place with a lift.”

“Oh,” he said, “Seems like a hassle. Especially when you’re coming back from the store with bags of groceries.”

“Well, that can be a bit of a hassle,” I admitted, “But it’s a nice flat, and exercise is good for you. Back home, I used to work out everyday. Here, that hasn’t been happening. I walk more than I used to, but I have a feeling it isn’t making up for working out for a straight hour every day.”

Harry let out a hmph, but didn’t respond. He opened the door for me as we approached the main lobby, and I stepped out and headed to the car that he had parked on the street by my building. Range Rovers were common in London, but his was the only one currently parked on my street.

“Are you planning on driving?” he asked with a smile as we approached the car.

“Uh, no?” I looked at him skeptically, unable to understand his question.

He motioned to the car, before explaining, “You’re on the driver’s side.”

I looked in the window, and sure enough I was standing on the driver’s side of the car. I blushed deeply as I realized my mistake.

“It’s different in The States!” I cried, in an attempt to defend myself. I crossed the car quickly and waited for Harry to unlock the car.

The car beeped as Harry pulled out his keys, his laughter filling the air as he climbed in. I opened the door and did the same, laughing lightly at my own blunder.

“Still getting used to things here?” he asked, as he started the car, “It must be hard.”

“The culture shock has been kinda hard,” I admitted, “Everything’s different here. Well, not everything, but a lot of things. Like the cars being on a different side of the road. But London has those nice little ‘look left’ or ‘look right’ signs painted on the ground in front of crosswalks, so that’s handy.”

Harry had begun to drive, and I took a moment to look out the window. We were still in familiar territory, of course, but it was rare that I got to see London from a car. I tended to opt for the Tube, only taking buses when it was absolutely necessary. London was easily walkable from Tube station to Tube station, and I didn’t mind walking when it wasn’t raining. Even if it was raining, I would still walk, if it was just a drizzle.

“I miss Massachusetts a lot,” I said finally, “But I like it here, too. It’s just taking some getting used to.”

“So why’d you move here again?” Harry asked, “I mean, you just said that you miss Massachusetts. Why didn’t you stay?”

“Well, for school, because it’s cheaper here than in the States,” I reminded him. I wasn’t sure that I liked where this was going.

“Yeah, but why else?” Harry pressed, “Lou said that when she first met you at the airport you didn’t have a solid plan other than going to see your grandparents. You weren’t sure whether or not you’d go to uni.”

“Um, some things changed, uh, back home,” I stammered. I had never been quick on my feet. “And, I, uh - coming here was just the best option I had. I was lucky and I was able to get into London Metropolitan past the deadline.”

“So are you planning on returning back to Massachusetts, then?” Harry asked, “Or are you staying in England forever?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t have any immediate plans to go back, but I don’t know, maybe one day.” I hadn’t thought too much about the prospect of returning home. I wasn’t sure how much of a home I had left to greet me, and I knew that there was a chance I would never be able to go back. Even if I did go back, I knew everything would be different. Things would never be like they were before. Most of the time, I just tried to avoid thinking about it, and instead focused on my life here.

Harry’s phone buzzed in the cupholder beside him. We both glanced down at it, and Harry’s hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel twitched towards it for a second. Instead of reaching for his phone, he placed his hand back on the steering wheel. I wondered if he had a habit of texting and driving.

“Can you see who that is for me?” he asked after a moment of consideration.

“Of course,” I agreed as I picked up his phone. It was the new iPhone, the one with the touch pad, and it was shiny and it didn’t have a case. I could just see myself somehow managing to throw it out the window or dropping it and breaking it.

I pressed down on the home button and the little notification popped up, “Oh, it’s just Twitter. Niall tweeted something.”

Before Harry could respond, the phone buzzed again in my hand.

“Just Twitter again?” Harry guessed.

“Mhmmm,” I nodded, “But Liam this time.”

“Was it the same tweet?” Harry asked.

“Roughly so,” I informed him, “Reminding your fans that your movie is still out in theatres? Is it a new version or something?”

“Yeah, it’s an extended cut,” he explained, “Nothing too exciting.”

“It’s a bit endearing that you have notifications for your bandmates turned on,” I told him.

“Don’t know why,” Harry shrugged, “Could probably turn it off and my life would go on as normal. It’s not like they ever tweet anything interesting.”

“Oh?” I tried not to sound too surprised at his confession.

“What? They don’t. Their tweets never pertain to me. Now my mum and sister, I keep their tweets turned on. They have access to my baby pictures.”

“I doubt your parents would tweet baby pictures of you,” I rolled my eyes, “I mean, wouldn’t they respect your privacy more than that?”

“You never know about them,” Harry said with a sly smile, “Can you believe that my parents have Twitter accounts? Both of them! And my stepdad!”

“That’s funny,” I laughed, “My parents aren’t even on Facebook, much less Twitter.”

“Consider yourself lucky,” Harry muttered, “Have to deal with them in real life and on Twitter. No escape from them now. What about you? What’s your Twitter name? I’ll follow you.”

“Oh, I’m not on social media,” I told him quickly.

“You’re not?” Harry seemed surprised.

“Uh, no,” I said, “Not anymore.”

“But you did have a Twitter?”

“Yeah, I used to,” I bit my lip, trying to figure out what Harry wanted with my former Twitter account, “But, uh, it got in the way of school. Too distracting. And, you know, people can be mean. I’ve found it’s best to stay away from it.”

Harry glanced over at me, but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t hard to see that he was thinking about something, and part of me wanted to ask, but another part of me didn’t see any point in it.

There was some music playing in the background, a CD that Harry had put on earlier in the ride. I liked it alright, but I didn’t know it. It was mellow and drowned out the sound of the car, without being too stressful or noisy. Neither of us spoke for a while. By now, we had exited London and were well in on the way to Holmes Chapel, and passing outlying towns. I gazed out the window, drinking in the scenery.

“So I have a question for you,” Harry broke the silence after a while, “It’s a weird one.”

“I’m all ears,” I told him nervously. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but somehow I had a feeling it could be personal.

“When I’m in The States, I’ve heard of certain stereotypes about different regions? Like the south is really liberal and the north isn’t? Is that true?”

I couldn’t help but giggle, “You have it mixed up! The South is really conservative and The North tends to be liberal.”

“Well are the stereotypes true?” Harry asked, “The ones you just said?”

“I mean, to a point. I’m liberal and I’m from Massachusetts, but Mitt Romney was the conservative candidate for president and he’s from Massachusetts, and he was our governor for a while there,” I informed him, “So yes and no. But as a whole I’d say they’re true. Why?”

“I just didn’t really understand it,” Harry shrugged, “It’s an interesting concept to me. America as a whole seems much more conservative.”

“I’m guessing you’re liberal?”

“What makes you say that?” Harry chuckled slightly at my inference.

“I mean, aren’t you gay?”

“Uh, no,” Harry sounded uneasy and he glanced over at me before refocusing his eyes on the road, “Where did you hear that? And what does being gay have to do with being liberal?”

“Well, gay people tend to be liberal. At least in the States. And I, uh, I Googled you guys,” I admitted sheepishly, before rushing on, “And, uh your fans seem to think you’re all gay.”

“You Googled us?” Harry laughed, “Why?”

“I was curious and I don’t know! Eva told me not to!”

“Well, I think you should probably listen to Eva more often,” Harry paused before continuing, “But, no. We’re not all gay.”

“So you’re all straight then?”

“All of us?” Harry hesitated. He looked over at me, like he was trying to decide whether or not to trust me. Finally, he spoke again, quietly this time, his voice serious, “No. Niall’s gay and, I’ve, uh, had my questioning moments. I think, as a whole, I like girls, though. Zayn’s engaged, and Louis and Liam both have girlfriends. So we’re not the straightest lads, but we’re not gay nor are we homophobic.”

“So you and Louis aren’t in a relationship?” I pressed.

“No,” Harry was quick to deny it, “We’re not, and we never have been. And never will be.That’s just gross. It’s not very professional to date someone you work with, and, once again, Louis has a girlfriend. This whole Larry Stylinson bullshit has actually caused some major problems in their relationship.”

“People really believe it then?” I asked. I hadn’t been sure whether or not to believe it, although I wouldn’t have guessed it based on watching their interactions. They certainly did not act like a couple, and the only thing that had led me to believe that they were a couple was all the articles and accounts I read online.

“People are crazy about it,” Harry started, “They send hate to Eleanor and call her a beard and are just nasty to her. Our fans are great, but they can be intense. Too intense. They like to read into things.” Harry paused for a second before he continued his explanation, “When the band first got started, Simon Cowell got us these apartments in the same complex. Except at the beginning, I was only seventeen and I couldn’t get one by myself ‘cause I was so young. Louis’ the oldest and we were the closest at the time so it just made sense for me to share with him. But the fans took it as us living together meant we were in a relationship, and it was some huge romantic gesture. But it wasn’t.”

“And now it’s your turn. What’s your sexuality?” Harry had a smirk on his face as he asked the question.

He had been painfully honest with me, far more so than I had ever expected him to be, and I knew it wasn’t right to refuse information about myself. Besides, it was all harmless information. There were far worse things he could be asking about.

“I’m straight, I guess,” I shrugged, “I mean, I like boys. I don’t know. I haven’t ever really been in a relationship.”

“You haven’t?!” Harry’s voice squeaked with surprise.

I shook my head, “No. I was pretty nerdy in high school. I still am pretty nerdy. I’m not exactly the type of girl people would actually want to date.”

“You’re not that nerdy,” Harry assured me, “I mean, you seem pretty normal. I’ve met some pretty interesting people, and you’re not one of them.”

“Well, thanks!” I exclaimed, turning away from him as much as I could in the car. His words stung in a weird way, like a backhanded compliment.

“I mean that in a good way!” Harry claimed quickly, “I just mean that I have met some people out there who you can’t quite fathom how they manage to get in relationships and you’re not one of them! You seem quite normal.”

“Oh, I’m glad you think somebody may like me eventually,” I huffed.

“So, you’ve, like, been kissed, right?” Harry asked awkwardly after a moment or two.

“Yes, I’m eighteen, not twelve,” I sighed, “But if you really must know, I made out with Evan Peters a couple of times in his basement last summer, but nothing ever became of it.”

“But you’re a virgin?” Harry urged.

I blushed, “Uh, yeah.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” Harry shrugged, “It’s whenever you feel ready.”

Strangely, he sounded like Maria somehow, despite the accent and the much deeper voice. I could almost see her waving her hand like she always did, as she leaned up against counter in her kitchen. She had lectured me so many times about not having sex until I was ready, and not to worry about what everyone else around me was doing. A wave of homesickness washed through me, but I took a deep breath and focused on the moment.

I didn’t respond to Harry’s comment, instead looking out the window. By now, we were deep in the English country side. Villages scattered the landscape, which was mainly farms and fields otherwise. It reminded me a bit of Massachusetts, but it was also different. Harry’s mellow music created a soft soundtrack for a long portion of the ride.

“You shouldn’t - you shouldn’t tell anyone Niall’s gay,” Harry told me after a while. We were getting closer to Holmes Chapel and he seemed to have been considering our conversation for the rest of the ride, “He’s not really out yet. I mean, to the band and some of our close friends, like Lou, but I don’t even think he’s told his parents yet. Just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise,” I tried to assure him. I could tell he regretted outing Niall, but I was serious when I said I wouldn’t tell. I knew what it was like to have something you didn’t want others to find out about.

“Good,” Harry stated.

“So, when I Googled you guys, I also saw that the band is breaking up and you’re going solo. Confirm or deny?” I made an attempt to lighten the mood, and based on how Harry relaxed, it seemed to work.

Harry let out a laugh, “No, that’s definitely not true!”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so, but I thought I should ask.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t Google us anymore,” Harry suggested lightheartedly.

“I’ll make you a deal. I won’t Google you if you won’t Google me.”

Harry looked over at me and grinned, “Deal.”