Saving Lucy

March 23, 2014
“Lucy?”
“In here,” I called, lifting a hand up so she could see me. I was currently lying down on their couch watching Love Actually and drinking tea. I saw Celeste come sit at my feet and Frank opted for his arm chair. “Where did you lot go?”
She arranged the blanket on her legs and smiled at me. “Grace and Bill wanted us to meet the kids so we all went for a bite to eat. How was…well where did you go?”
“I went to Brighton,” I told her, sitting up. “And it was nice. I got some work done and enjoyed the beach. I have plans with Nora later but I wanted to wait for you before I left.”
“Nora,” Celeste laughed. “Oh my Nora. Frank was reading me the tweets while we drove earlier. What is with you girls and your obsession with pop stars?”
“Oh shut it,” I rolled my eyes, throwing the blankets off of me. I rubbed my eyes and yawned before standing up and stretching. “That’s actually what we were going to talk about so I should be off.”
Celeste stood up as well and wrapped her arms around me. “It’s good to have you back, Lulu.”
“Thank you for letting me stay here,” I whispered as I squeezed her back. “I love you, Celery.”
“I love you, too, munchkin,” She smiled, pulling away. Her eyes examined my face and I could see the worry in them.
“I’m okay,” I sighed, going over to the front door to grab my things. I stopped before opening it and looked over my shoulder. “I’ll see you at Mum and Dad’s on Friday, right?”
“Of course,” My sister nodded, now sitting on Frank’s lap.
“Okay,” I said, opening the door. “Bye, you two.”
“Stay out of trouble, kid,” Frank called just as I closed the door.
After knowing him for over 3 years, Frank has become more of a constant in my life than my parents are. He met me when I was an unruly punk who had a problem with listening to my elders, and he put up with me when all I wanted to do was torment him and my sister. Frank has sat down with me many a night and just hashed it all out—from problems with boys to picking a university to leaving university, Frank was there for me.
He didn’t just save my sister. He saved me, too.
-
When I got home, I turned on all the lights and hesitated before turning on the security system. Harry always asked me to set it whenever I was home alone, even if I didn’t feel like it was necessary. I started to type in the code anyways.
Even if Harry wasn’t talking to me, I still felt like I owed him something. At the very least I could keep myself safe.
He always did things like that. “Turn on your security system, wear respectable clothing, don’t go out too late at night without me”—all of these things were rules that Harry made sure I adhered to when he was and was not around. Blindly, I followed all of them because at the time all I wanted to do was make Harry happy.
So much that I put his own over mine.
I looked at the clock and read 10:30, sighing when I realized Nora still wouldn’t be here for another half hour. Still slightly tired, I sat down in the TV room and opened my laptop. My mentions on twitter were going crazy, lots of congrats for the new position, and I tried to reply to as many as I could while I waited.
As I scrolled through my timeline, I saw a name that caught my eye.
@Harry_Styles: L.
“Harry,” I sighed, reaching forward to put my laptop of the table and grabbing my phone. I slid it unlocked and scrolled through my contacts until I came across his name. I bobbed my head to the dial tone as I waited for him to answer.
Static greeted me on the other end before a deep voice filtered through. “Been on twitter lately? You must spend better use of your time, love.”
“Not funny, Harry,” I sighed. “What’s the problem?”
“You didn’t text me all day.”
“That’s the problem? Seriously?” Sometimes this boy was unreal. He stirred up a shit tone of trouble by posting that simple letter just because I didn’t text him back?
“I didn’t know how else to get your attention without looking like a proper git,” He said. He sounded quieter than usual, like he was half whispering. “What did you do today?”
“Had a little holiday in Brighton. It was nice. Reminded me of that day in Malibu.”
“Good day that was,” He said and I could hear the smile in his voice. Like usual, he knew exactly where my train of thought was without asking. “Were you alone?”
“Harry,” I groaned, irritated that he ruined another moment. Never did I question where he was or who was he with but he saw nothing wrong with doing it to me.
“Humor me, Lucy.”
I considered hanging up or fighting it, but I knew that he probably had a long day doing what he was. Deciding to follow my sister’s advice from earlier, I told him, cutting him some slack. “Yes, I was alone. I needed a day.”
“You work hard,” He agreed. I knew his words held more meaning to them and tears started to form. Even though I tried to act like I was tough and didn’t want to relent to Harry’s whims, I knew how much he went though in his own head. Every day was a battle for him.
“What did you do today?” I managed to ask, swallowing the thickness in my throat.
“A lot of meetings. Nothing really interesting. I wish I could have gone with you to the sea,” He sighed.
“I wish there was a lot of things you could do with me,” I laughed. “When you get home we can go back.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
It was kind of surreal having such a normal conversation with Harry. We talked for an hour before he had to go about what we did today and what we’ll do when he gets home. I ignored the fact that us making these plans means he’ll be able to leave the house freely and focused on the fact that things are getting back to the flow of things.
I wish I could be one of those people who saw past the fame and just see Harry, but it’s so hard sometimes. Everywhere we went we were tailed. Every social network interaction was bombarded with hate and rude remarks. But when it was just us, I could see the side of a boy who go on the X Factor. At the end of the day Harry was not a pop star or idol, he was just a boy who liked Love Actually, Arctic Monkeys, and Manchester United. That was the boy I loved.
The day that we planned to keep things private, I knew that things were going to get bad. Either I was mad because we had to sneak around or he was. Going out turned into a huge ordeal where we had to invite a certain amount of people or meet up at a certain time. It was no longer about my relationship; it was about tricking everyone into thinking we were something we weren’t.
Ringing filled the house, startling me, and I didn’t have to check my phone to know Nora was here. With a groan, I got up and shuffled through the rooms to the foyer. As soon as I unlocked and opened the door, Nora attacked me.
“Oof,” I laughed as her body hit mine and she hugged me.
“Lucy, this has been the craziest 24 hours of my life,” She muttered into my shoulder.
We pulled apart and I led her to the TV room. “Tell me everything since you left the pub.”
“Okay,” She sighed, arranging herself opposite me on the couch. “This is a really nice place, by the way. You lucked out.”
“You’re playing coy again, Longman.”
“Right,” She muttered, looking down at her lap. “Nothing happened when we got back to his if that’s what you’re thinking. Even if all the mags are saying that, I swear-“
“Nora,” I said, holding my hand up to stop her. She shut her mouth immediately and I gave her a smile. “I’m the last person you need to explain yourself to.”
“Right,” She repeated, nodding. “But I did spend the night and that’s where everything kind of went to hell. Niall is…the best. He’s sweet and funny and understanding and I think I really like him. All night he could have tried something but he never did. And he didn’t make me feel like he wasn’t interested. It was more like he was content with what we were doing.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Niall is the best. I’ve never met someone who cares like he does.”
“Yeah,” She agreed, smiling to herself at some memory playing in her head. “And the next morning I thought I better go before he wakes, but he immediately woke up and offered to go with me wherever I needed to go. Lucy, he thought I had plans. He didn’t even consider the idea of me sneaking out so he could be alone.”
“He’s not a playboy, Nora!” I laughed.
“I know, I know,” She said, grinning. “I just…he could do so much better than me. Yet he spent all day with me. With me! Not some model or actress. I felt like I was floating on a cloud.”
“It is a very nice cloud to float on with one of those lads,” I teased, nudging her with my foot. “You’re officially the luckiest girl in the world.”
“I am kind of, aren’t I?” She giggled. “I just can’t imagine anything better than Niall kissing me goodnight when he thought I was sleeping. It was so quick and simple, but I don’t know. I felt…I felt like he was vulnerable for a moment. He felt real.”
My smile faltered a bit but I quickly recovered it as I listened to her recall her night and day with Niall. It was like I couldn’t escape Harry, or really his memory. Everywhere I looked, everything I heard, went back to him. I wanted so badly to escape it but at this point I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel.
-
March 24, 2014
Heathrow was a nuthouse as usual since it was one of the main airports in England, therefore being the spot that most famous people flew through. In all black and sunglasses, I flew under the radar for most of the time as I waited at the gate Smith told me he would be coming through.
Airports were probably one of my most favorite spots in the world, right behind train stations. So many different kinds of people walked through these halls, and so many different kinds of love were displayed. From couples as old as grandparents to teens to families with both parents to one, airports were the hub to so much human emotion. During my time waiting I saw a young woman send off her husband in uniform, tears in her eyes as she waved him off, to an elderly couple saying their goodbyes to what looked to be their adult child and their family.
When I first left for LA my mum and dad were a right mess when they took me to Heathrow. I thought I was going to miss my flight. Mum kept wailing that she would miss me and it was way too soon and that I was only 19. The last time she cried like that was when I told her I was graduating in 2 years instead of what was planned and decided to take the job at E. And like always, Dad stood by Mum as she cried, expressionless with his arms crossed. After 20 minutes of Mum holding onto my arm, Celeste pulled her off of me and told me to run before she latched on again. It was the most mortifying, ridiculous, best moment I’ve ever had at an airport.
Right when I got back to my seat after heading over to a Starbucks to get tea, which by the way was overpriced and awful, I saw Smith walking out of the gate in the stream of travelers and started waving my hand like an idiot. Despite the fact that he looked dead on his feet from the 11 hour flight, Smith still managed to look as handsome as ever in jeans and a hoodie. His hair, which looked like he just recently cut it, looked perfectly styled and he stood out amongst the pale Brits with his California tan.
“Smith!”
Immediately, his head swiveled to the source of where his name was called, and when he saw me, the widest, toothiest grin appeared on his face. Quickly, he closed the distance between us, dropped his carry on at our feet, and scooped me up into the biggest hug.
“Lucy,” He breathed into my hair. He set me back on my feet but kept his hands at my waist. “It’s so good to see you again.”
“It’s hardly been a week,” I smiled suddenly very shy. “But it’s good to see you, too.”
We broke apart and he reached down to grab his carry on before we started to walk towards baggage claim. “How’s vacation been for you?”
“Oh, are they referring to this as holiday?” I asked, laughing. “All I’ve done is sit around my sister’s flat and cut out pictures of wedding cakes like a primary school arts project.”
Smith ran a hand through his short hair and cracked a wry grin. “I guess I still haven’t gotten used to the idea that this is home now.”
“To be fair,” I started to say, only stopping because people were cutting through us. “I was kind of surprised when you said you took the offer and it was here. I had you pegged for a true LA guy at heart.”
“I am sort of,” He said. For some reason he looked embarrassed now and avoided all eye contact with me. “But sometimes a change of scenery is nice.”
I nodded absentmindedly as we waited for his luggage to come through. “Well I have a lot for us to get done this week, but first you probably want to go home and sleep, yeah?”
“Ideally, yes,” He said as he reached forward to grab one of his bags. I tried really hard not to check out his bum as he leaned and probably looked like I wanted to kill him by the look I was making. “But I took a nap on the plane so I should be good to at least get something to eat.”
“I know just the place.”
-
Nando’s was an institution in Britain. Literally every person with a soul and a stomach was just bonkers for the place, and I was one of them. I was so hooked on the place that they sent me 1 of their custom hates for Christmas last year. Niall was so jealous.
“Nando’s?” Smith asked as he read the sign. “I think we have one of these in America.”
“It’s not British so I immediately abhor the idea of it,” I scoffed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him into the restaurant with me.
I could hear Smith’s rumbling laugher behind me. “You are so English it’s insane.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, throwing him a cheeky grin over my shoulder.
The smiling hostess led us to my favorite booth in the back and we both sat in our respective seats across from one another. I wasn’t one of those people who liked to sit next to someone when we were the only 2 at a booth. It was just plain odd.
As I read my menu, which was more for Smith’s benefit than my own since I knew what I wanted, I felt my phone buzzing in my lap and tried to ignore it. I peered over my menu and started to laugh at Smith’s confused and slightly scared face.
“What?” He asked self-consciously. “Peri-peri sauce? Pea mash? What the in the world does any of this mean?”
“It’s Portuguese and South African with a little British flair,” I informed him, closing my menu. “We’ll get the Meal Platter and share, yeah? I promise it’s good.”
He nodded and closed his own men before clasping his hands together on the table. “I thought we were going somewhere that screamed English?”
“We are,” I said. “Just because the place isn’t British, doesn’t mean it’s not important to our culture. Every person you meet gets heart eyes over the place. Trust me, it’s important.”
After the frazzled waitress came to take our order, eyeing Smith the whole time, Smith started to flick through his phone and I folded my napkin over my lap. Once he was satisfied with what he was doing, he pocketed the iPhone and smiled at me. “Favorite movie.”
“What?” I laughed, raising an eyebrow. “We’re playing the question game?”
“Well I thought about it and I have no idea what you like,” He informed me. He paused for a moment and his face turned thoughtful, like he was deciding something. “I mean, I know you’re always late. I know you dress like a blind woman but it somehow looks adorable. You like sunsets. You have an older sister who is getting married in November. You like classic literature and small children. White tulips make you smile. And clearly chicken means a lot to you. But I don’t know the little things that make you, you. And since we’re going to be living together, I figure I should learn.”
Simple as his words were, I couldn’t help but feel…touched, for lack of a better word. No one has ever made a point to learn these things about me.
Especially not Harry. Vividly I remember his slow drawl telling me his stories, trying to piece together the puzzle that was him. I’ve always loved the way he talked; his smooth, silky voice made everything sound almost musical, and you focused on the way his lips moved when he spoke, taking you in. The same lips that kissed me many times in the past year and the same lips that made my name sound like a prayer when it fell from them.
Clearing my mind of thoughts of Harry, I took a deep breath and forced a small smile. “Love Actually. You?”
“If we’re going guilty pleasure movie, the Fast and the Furious series. But, to pretty girls, I always opt for 40 Days and 40 Nights.”
“Never heard of it,” I admitted. His comment about pretty girls did things to my head and I took a sip of my water to squash them.
“What?” He exclaimed, blue eyes getting wide. “That’s a crime. We’ll have to have a movie night after work one day and amend this immediately.”
“We’ll pick it up on the way home,” I promised.
“Favorite animal.”
“Turtle. Yourself?”
“Ligers.”
I laughed, and it felt good to laugh like that. Sometimes I catch myself counting the number of times I laugh like that, a full body laugh, because at the end of the day those are the only moments that matter. “What on earth is a ‘liger’?”
“Part lion, part tiger,” He explained, scratching the back of his head. “Moving on…favorite place?”
“Do you mean like a building or restaurant or geographically?”
“Either or.”
I thought about it for a moment before answering. “Malibu.”
“What?” He asked, looking adorably confused. “Lucy, I don’t know if you remember but Malibu would happen to be in America.”
“I remember,” I blushed, looking down at my hands. “It’s just…it felt like home when I didn’t have one to go to.”
Smith was silent for a moment and I didn’t dare to look at him.
“I take it you don’t want to elaborate.” When I shook my head, I head him sigh. “Fine by me. I’ll figure out all your secrets after my chicken.”
“You can try,” I chuckled, offering him a sly smile.
“We’ll see,” He winked. “Favorite author and don’t hold back because I’m terribly uneducated on classical literature. It’s called google.”
-
While I was in the middle of picking out linens at The Little White Company for Smith, my phone started to ring again. I peaked at Smith as he inspected a particularly ugly comforter set and rummaged through my purse for the source of disruption. When I finally located it, I saw Harry’s dimples flashing on my screen. Instead of the usual butterflies I felt when I saw his name, I felt irritated and defensive for no reason.
“Hello, love,” I greeted with a warmness I didn’t feel towards him at the moment. For someone who was supposed to be very busy with therapy and such, he sure had a lot of time to check up on me. “Are you well?”
“Who is he, Lucy?”
Not this again. “You must be more specific, I’m afraid. I have a lot of friends and yes, some of them tend to be male.”
“Don’t play games,” He groaned, clearly frustrated with the run around I was giving him. “Who is the handsome blonde bloke that you picked up at the airport, took to Nando’s of all places, and now you’re at a linens store with.”
“Are you having me followed?” I asked as I grabbed a package I liked. The comforter was as blue as Smith’s eyes and the sheets were gray. Simple, neutral, and relatively cheap.
“No, but it doesn’t hurt when many little men follow you around snapping your pictures and posting it on the internet. Also, my fans are quite loyal.”
“Why would your fans be following me?”
“Because they’ve seen us together and recognize you. You do realize you’re on the television, right?”
“I’m well aware of my profession, yes,” I snapped. “And if you paid an ounce of attention to said career, you’d know that that is Smith and he also works at E with me. He’s moved to London to be my partner and he’s staying with me until he finds a flat of his own.”
The last part was a bit of a lie, Smith and I never nailed down the finer details of our living arrangement, but eventually I’d think that he’d want a place of his own.
Regardless.
Silence greeted me on the other line for a moment. I didn’t know what he could possibly be thinking but it couldn’t be pleasant. “He’s staying with you?”
His usual sweet, playful tone was cold and short. “Yes, Harry, he is staying with me. He is my friend and he needed somewhere to live. I have many rooms that I don’t need so I offered.”
“How friendly of you,” He snipped. “I’m so happy that you’re such an accommodating friend.”
“I’d do the same for you.”
“Oh!” He exclaimed, sarcasm evident. “You would, would you? I’m so glad our friendship has evolved to what it is!”
“Come off it,” I muttered. Smith caught my tone and gave me a look, but all I did was shrug in response and mouth ‘Celeste.’ He nodded before taking the comforter from me and disappearing down another aisle. “You’re being a prat.”
“No, I’m being your…your-“
“My what, Harry?” I asked, laughing darkly. “My lover? My friends with benefits? Because I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but you’ve made it very clear that you are not my boyfriend.”
“You’re a bitch,” He sneered.
“And you’re a selfish, narcissistic bastard who needs to take his head out of his arse long enough to see that the world does not revolve around him.” And with that I ended the call, shoved my phone in my purse, and stormed off to find Smith.
Fights with Harry were becoming a regular thing nowadays. I could barely catch my breath in between squabbles, and I usually opted to ignore his calls because I knew it would lead to one. One person couldn’t handle all of that anger every day, and sometimes I wish I didn’t have to.
Everyone always tells me, “Cut him some slack,” but they don’t see this side of him. I desperately want to be happy and tell him it’s all alright but I can’t. Ever since the accident he has been angrier and angrier, lashing out and hiding away in his head, shutting everyone out. I constantly found myself taking the brunt of the attack and no one ever saw it. For crying out loud, the majority of the world didn’t even know he tried to kill himself. They just think he’s on an extended holiday because he and Kendall split.
I remember the day that he told me he had to date her. He sat me down in my flat and told me, “It’s part of the job and I don’t have a choice,” and I just smiled and told him it was okay because he was Harry and how could you say no to that face? I kept smiling as pictures of Harry entering and leaving hotels with and without Kendall floated around, and I kept on smiling whenever they were asked about one another and they played coy. My smile was still present when they went on vacations without me and while I did stories on their relationship whenever Catt was out. Because that boy owned me, whether he knew it or not, and I didn’t have the self-respect to speak up for myself.
-
Bacon wafted into my room the next morning and I had a pleased smile on my face when I woke up. Asking Smith to move in with me was proving to be the best decision I’ve made this year.
“What’s this?” I asked as I entered the kitchen. He was shirtless, only wearing a loose pair of gray sweat pants, and I tried to focus on the bacon on the plate instead of the good looking boy next to me. “Is this your way of paying the rent?”
“It’s a thank you,” He said, smiling down at me. “And I was under the impression this was a rent free situation.”
I laughed before nibbling at another piece of bacon. “You’re clearly a morning person.”
“Rise with the sun and all that,” He said, waving the spatula in the air for affect. “So what’s on the agenda for today?”
“Well,” I sung, pulling myself up so I could sit on the counter. “I figured we could go to every touristy spot in the city for today and tomorrow we’ll go about it my route. That way you can have your fill of tourist attractions before you become a Brit.”
“I think that’s kind of a tall order.” I watched him crack a few eggs straight into the pan, following up with a handful of cheese that he must have gotten at the store.
“You never know,” I shrugged, wiggling my eyebrows. “So I think we should head Buckingham, take the underground, go to Tower Bridge and Big Ben, go to Hyde, Tate, the zoo, and then finish the day at the Eye.”
Smith stopped messing with the eggs and gave me a quizzical look. “Is there even enough time in the day?”
“Hopefully,” I said. “And if not, we’ll start again tomorrow and push back your hipster tour of the greatest city in the world.”
“I was under the impression that that was New York.”
“Well your impression was rubbish.”
“Fair enough.”
I gave him a superior grin. “Since the network gave you a few days to look for a flat, which is clearly taken care of, when do you officially have to be back to work?”
“Monday,” He said. “No point in being there without you.”
“Their words or yours?” I smirked.
Wait, was I flirting with Smith?
“Common sense is common sense,” He chuckled, turning off the stove after he removed the last of the eggs onto a plate.
“Who is going to eat all of this food?” I asked, looking at the plates of bacon, toast, eggs, ham, and waffles.
“Us,” He shrugged. “Don’t worry; I’ll eat what you don’t.”
“Because I was so worried,” I laughed, hopping off the counter and helping him bring the food to the breakfast bar. After I placed everything down, I turned back to the stove and started a pot of tea for me. “Want any?”
“Nah,” He said, taking his seat. Looking over my shoulder at him, I raised an eyebrow as if to say, ‘want to rethink that?’ “I mean, yes, I’d love a cup of tea.”
“Much better,” I smiled as I took out another cup for him.
“I aim to please,” I heard him say behind me. When I turned to look at him again, he was smirking at his eggs before taking bringing the forkful to his full lips.