Word of Mouth

Sometime never came.

He’d ask occasionally but I’d always say I was busy or I couldn’t or I had to get shopping done for school. Basically anything to just not completely shut him down.

We talked on the phone sometimes, mostly only late at night when one or both of us couldn’t sleep because the August heat was seeping in the walls. It was nice though, having someone to talk to sometimes at night.

The only problem was, Tumblr found out.

They found out there spoke on the phone and immediately started to ship us harder than ever before.

When Harry was still an anon people started to like the idea of us. But now though, that people knew we were friends they freaked out over it. 90% of my inbox was Harry related and I didn’t even want to know what his looked like when I was certain he had thousands more followers than I did.

People didn’t just ask me though, they asked him too. And sometimes I’d get a random picture message of a message he got that was extra funny or extra nice. But it was still weird.

Not to mention school started the next morning.

And I couldn’t sleep. Which meant I was on the phone with Harry.

“Cal, ‘s gonna be fine,” he was reassuring me for the fifth time in half an hour, “I promise. You’re gonna love it.”

“I’m so fucking nervous,” I felt like I was going to cry. There was a lump in my throat and knots in my stomach and I wasn’t sure they would go away until all of my classes were over with the next day.

“It’ll be fine, I promise,” Harry insisted, “Honestly.”

“What did you do when you started school?” I asked quietly, pulling the blankets up closer to my neck.

“Honestly?” He asked, I just hummed in response, “I cried before I went to my first lecture.”

“You did not,” I let out a little giggle.

"I did," he sounded serious, "Was terrible."

“I don’t believe you,” I shook my head against the pillow, “What kind of cry was it?”

"I had a proper fit. Tears and everything. Was so bad," he sounded so serious I couldn't help but laugh, "Heeey, 's not funny!"

“It is,” I giggled, “I think it’s nice that you freaked out before your first day.”

“How’s that nice?” Harry questioned, voice going higher, “It was horrible!”

“No, no,” I shook my head, still giggling, “Not like that. ‘S just nice that ‘m not the only one this freaked out.”

Then there was a pause, “Y-you should sleep for a bit. It’s almost three.”

I wanted to say no. Tell him I’d much prefer to speak to him all night then have to get up in five hours for class.

“I uh, yeah I probably should,” I stuttered. I didn’t want to get off the phone, fuck knew if I’d even be able to sleep.

“Good luck tomorrow, yeah?” Harry sounded tired.

“Yeah, thanks. You too. Have a good day back,” I tried to sound nice. Tried to sound like I didn’t mind that he was tired even if I wanted to stay on the phone for hours.

“Thanks,” and then we said our goodbyes and we were off the phone.

*

I barely slept a few hours before my alarm went off. And then I hit snooze too many times and by the time I was out the door I was more anxious than I would’ve been if I hadn’t been rushing around trying to get everything together.

I was terrified, mortified even because it was all going to be so new, and big and just terrifying.

I’d been to orientation a week prior, but today was the first day of real classes and I was going to lose my shit.

I was tired (so tired), nervous, and hungry just to top things off. I wanted to crawl back in bed and not have anything to do with a new school in a new city with new people.

I couldn’t help it as I stepped onto campus that I pulled my phone from my pocket.

‘im gonna die. there’s people everywhere’

I typed quickly to Harry even though I knew his first class wasn’t for another hour and a half. He probably wouldn’t even be up yet. But before I could lock my phone again, my message had been read.

‘smile at them, say hi! make a friend!! x’

‘i can’t just make friends’

I answered quickly. I didn’t care that I was just standing there looking incredibly stupid. His reply came incredibly quick.

‘why not?? people are nice! x’

‘yeah but i’m not’

It was self deprecating and I hadn’t meant for it to be but it was true. I was rather shit and making friends was something I’d never been all that great at.

I’d had friends, of course I had. The ones in California in elementary school then the ones in Ohio in elementary. And then they went away when we went to middle school and I had a group that I was friends with during middle school. After middle school, all those friends disappeared and I made friends in high school. Those though seemed to disappear before graduation.

I wasn’t one for keeping friends for all that long. Mostly because I think people think I’m boring. I never wanted to go to parties or get completely trashed. I didn’t enjoy having huge groups of friends. I was content with just a couple and most people weren’t okay with that.

‘i think you’re very nice. be nice to yourself x’

I just stared at the text. I wanted to respond properly, really I did, but I knew he should probably get ready for class and I should probably get to class so instead I settled for something simple.

‘class is about to start. wish me luck. hope i don’t die’

*

The first class I had wasn’t even a real class, it was more of an intro class. An hour of just listening about rules and policies of the school. Stuff that had been repeated from orientation.

My first real class was at nine thirty and it was an honors english class. And I was terrified.
Going from a small high school to a school like NYU was horrifying.

I was fifteen minutes early when I got to the lecture hall. So instead of walking inside the nearly empty room, I decided to hang around outside until I wouldn’t be one of the only people in the room.

I people watched for a while. Everyone seemed to be much more sophisticated and older than me. I felt like a child. So I tried to not make eye contact with anyone.

The only person I made eye contact with, seemed to be staring at me. From the quick glances I stole of him I took in his tighttighttight jeans and loose t shirt and dark hair pushed off of his face. He was much too pretty to be looking at me. Not to mention the fact that he was probably older than I was because I was in an honors class. One that wasn’t normally offered to freshmen.

I quickly looked away, cheeks heating up as I pulled out my phone.

‘someone just stared at me. like actually stared at me’

I texted Harry quickly before I closed out my messages and opened Tumblr.

callalame:
there’s a pretty older boy outside my english class and he just stared at me
#i’m not kidding #he actually like //stared// #and he’s so pretty :((((

I tried to look distracted and not feel the eyes burning into my head. But then, right when I thought I should maybe look up they were gone and the guy who’d been staring at me had walked into the lecture hall. My lecture hall.

‘say hi to them!! x’

I tapped out something quickly.

‘no. no he was pretty and he walked into my class. no. god no’

‘sit by him, make friends! x’

He was texting me back quickly and I wondered what he was doing. If he was on his way to his class or already at whatever school in New York he went to.

‘i can’t. he’s older than me’

It was five minutes before my class started so I locked my phone and walked into the lecture hall.

The room was huge, and was very stereotypically college like. Everything was wood and the seats went from high in the room to nearly right down to the professors desk. The shallow steps to get to the seats were carpeted a very bleak grey color.

It was exactly what I thought every lecture hall would look like.

The class only had about ten people in it so far, each of them sat sporadically through the seats. Some higher up on the angle of the room, some closer to the front of the room. The boy who’d been staring at me was in the back towards the left.

I quickly found a seat in the middle of the room, not wanting to be too far in the back or too far in the front. And then I felt my phone vibrate.

‘so? i’m older than you x’

I just rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me.

‘it’s different’

‘hoooow? x’

I wanted to ask him why he wasn’t getting ready for class, but I didn’t.

‘because you aren’t a cute boy in my english class’

I felt my phone buzz again but I didn’t have time to answer because the lecture was starting.

The lecture itself wasn’t all that great. It was rather boring even. More just an introduction to the class than an actual class. I swore the whole time that I could feel someone staring at me but I figured I was just imagining it.

As soon as the lecture was over, I made a beeline for the door, just wanting to get to my next class and get the day over with.

But then my phone buzzed again, reminding me that I had unread messages.

‘are you saying i’m not cute or just not that specific cute boy?’

‘oookay i’m going into class good luck!! x’

‘i don’t know, are you cute????’

I couldn’t help but hit send. He still hadn’t sent me any pictures of him. He’d asked me once to sort of hang out and ever since then we hadn’t talked about it. And he still hadn’t sent me any selfies.

I knew he wouldn’t answer right away, but it felt nice to be able to sort of call him out on the fact that I hadn’t ever seen his face.

*

After four classes I was done for the day. I could go home and relax, and maybe start on a paper that I’d been assigned in my sociology theory class. It wasn’t due for almost a month but I figured I should at least start to plan or something.

But I still didn’t have a text back from Harry.

I tried to brush it off that he was busy with class or school work but I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d overstepped some unspoken boundary or weirded him out. And I felt guilty. Maybe he was more self conscious than I was. Which would really be saying something.

Once I got home though I opened my laptop in hopes that I could at least start to plan some of my paper out. I got sidetracked by Tumblr though. And the fact that Harry was online.

crowdedhearts:
saw a really gorgeous girl in one of my classes today
#she was like proper gorgeous #i was too much of a twat to go talk to her

I just stared at it. So he could write a text post about a girl but he couldn’t answer my text?

In my defense I knew I was being caddy, but still.

I decided before I started my paper I’d scroll through my dash and answer a couple of messages I’d got while I was at school.

anonymous asked:
whAT’D THE CUTE BOY LOOK LIKE????
callalame answered:
idk he had dark hair and some nice jeans.
#i was too scared to look him in the eyes so idk what color his eyes were

anonymous asked:
you should talk to him
callalame answered:
no i don’t talk to cute older boys

anonymous asked:
does harry know about this boy???
callalame answered:
yeah
#he’s currently ignoring my texts though

I rolled my eyes as I answered the last one. I hoped he saw it.

Figuring three questions were enough, I started to scroll through my dash until there was a knock on my door.

“Come in,” it had to be Scarlett or Rosie because my aunt and uncle weren’t home. My aunt had a job interview while my uncle was at work. Scarlett and Rosie didn’t start school for another four days.

Scarlett pushed the door open looking completely unamused, “Rosie wants ice cream. We should go for ice cream.”

“I’ve got homework,” I told her, “I need to start a paper.”

She rolled her eyes, “Can I take her out then?”

“No,” I deadpanned. It’s not that I didn’t trust Scarlett with her little sister, it was more I didn’t trust Rosie with Scarlett, “Text your mom and ask if she can bring you something home.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes and then practically slammed my door. Right as I heard her stomp downstairs my phone vibrated on my bed next to me. And the sort of fucked up thing was, I knew who it was.

‘for the record i’m not ignoring your texts x’

I rolled my own eyes. It pissed me off that he was so blunt about it, when he’d read my message. He had no right to be upset when I’d called him out on something like that.

‘ok’

I answered and locked my phone again. Right, paper. But how was I supposed to concentrate when he had the nerve to pretend he wasn’t answering me.

I made it five minutes on working on an outline for the paper when my phone vibrated. This time though, it was with a call. I wanted to ignore it, more than anything really, but really I was sort of dying to know what excuse he’d come up with.

I answered with a preoccupied, “Hello?”

“Hiii,” his greeting was drawn out, “Don’t be mad at me.”

“Never said I was mad,” I rolled my eyes. I really was just annoyed.

“You are though, I can tell,” he sounded nervous, “You don’t just talk about me in your tags and send me one word texts for no reason.”

“I always talk in tags,” I deadpanned.

“Well, like yeah I know. But like, not about me normally. Or not bad stuff at least,” his voice was quieter than normal.

“Why’re you calling?” I didn’t mean to be harsh, I just simply wanted to know.

“Because I don’t want you to be mad,” and then there was a pause, “Maybe I could make it up to you with a smoothie?”

“Think that’s a bit ironic considering the reason you think I’m ‘mad’,” I scoffed.

“J-just, come for smoothies with me? I know this really good smoothie place in SoHo.”

My heart started to beat too quick, “I have a paper to do.”

“After?” Harry tried and he sounded so desperate I almost said yes. But then I remembered what that meant. That meant I’d meet him face to face and then everything would be fucked up.

“I’m watching my cousins,” I told him, picking at my comforter.

“This week? Cal, we’re in the same city,” he sounded exhausted all of a sudden.

“I know,” I swallowed thickly.

“Are we just going to avoid each other forever then?” He mumbled quietly and I wasn’t even sure how to begin to answer that question. I couldn’t press him for pictures and end up pushing him away. He was the only person I could really talk to about anything.

“Don’t wanna fuck it up,” I mumbled instead because it was the truth.

“Fuck what up? Calla, you’ve been here for almost a month and every time I’ve asked to hang out you’ve completely blown me off. Like for some stupid reason,” he didn’t sound angry, just hurt. And that made my chest feel tight for some reason.

“‘S not like that,” I shook my head, “I just. ‘M scared.”

I didn’t add that it was mostly because I hadn’t ever seen a proper picture of him.

“Why?” He asked quickly.

“Dunno, you’re like the only person I can talk to,” I answered quietly, “A-and I dunno. Never like. Been that open with someone in real life.”

There was silence for a second, “I’ve never been as open with someone as I’ve been with you either,” he admitted, “Still wanna take you out for smoothies though.”

I had no idea what to say. How to casually bring up the fact that I had no idea what he looked like and how much it bothered me whether it should or shouldn’t have.

It was just fucked up, the whole situation was beyond fucked up and stressful. So stressful.

“I uh. Lemme just think okay?”

*

He never brought it up again. Neither did I. It was probably really fucked up. I let it go though, because the first three weeks of school were stressful and scary and I wanted to cry basically the whole time.

I’d come home from school and attempt to do whatever homework I could while at the same time, managing to procrastinate enough that I was still almost always on Tumblr. Then I’d eat dinner with my family and lock myself in my room again to do more “homework” and then when I felt like my brain was fried and I was probably going to cry, I called Harry.

“Hiii,” he always sounded so cheery even when he probably already knew I was crying.

“Hi,” I sniffled.

“Wha’s wrong?” He sounded scared all of a sudden.

“It’s Sunday night and I’ve got a presentation tomorrow in my English class that I don’t want to do and I literally am not prepared for it at all,” my brain felt like mush.

“Hey, hey,” he said calmly, “Calm down. ‘S alright. How much have you got done?”

“The first three sentences,” I told him as I snuggled into my blankets. It was nine p.m and my presentation was at in twelve and a half hours.

“That’s almost a paragraph,” he offered, “How long has it got to be?”

“At least five minutes,” she rubbed her forehead, “It’s bullshit.”

“I know,” he agreed, “W-what if you faked ill, yeah?” He sounded nervous.

“I can’t,” I could but I’d get shit for missing my classes. Plus I was pretty sure I’d have to present anyway except it’d be dropped a letter grade.

“R-right,” he breathed out, “D-do you want help?”

*

It was nine a.m. and I was early. Mostly because I didn’t sleep and if I had stayed home any longer I would have passed out.

My plan was I was only going to one class. My english class so I could give the presentation then I was going to be able to go home and sleep.

I was exhausted, I felt like maybe I was ready to fall over at any given moment. My eyes were stinging and I felt like my depth perception was permanently fucked. I practically collapsed in my seat.

I didn’t actually know how I was going to make it through my presentation, or anyone else’s to be honest. I’d been up for what was going on nearly 24 hours. I wasn’t going to last long. I wasn’t going to last at all if I wasn’t one of the first few people to present.

Right after I took my seat my phone buzzed in my pocket. I grabbed it quickly even though I felt the cute boy from the first day of classes staring at the back of my head just like I always did.

‘have a good day. no matter what happens just have a good day .x’

‘today is only going to be good if i’m one of the first three people to present and i don’t pass out until i get home but thank yooooou’

I shoved my phone back in my pocket and tried to clear my fuzzy head enough to focus.

I was going to be fine, it wasn’t like I’d pulled all nighters before. I had it just, it’d been a while. Plus, my brain was fried from actually doing work all night.

The more people walked into the class the edgier I got. I wasn’t going to be able to do it. I was going to fall asleep in the middle of class and I’d be humiliated.

Thankfully though, once the hall was sufficiently full, my professor closed the door, signaling the start of class.

The first presentation was aching long and boring. I almost fell asleep halfway through.

The second and third followed in the same suit. Long and boring and dull. So dull.

It wasn’t until the fourth person got called that my eyes widened and my stomach twisted.

“Harry Styles, you’re next.”

I had to have been dozing off, not heard the professor right. But no. A sheepish looking boy was making his way to the front of the class, cheeks burning and eyes cast down. The same boy who’d been staring at me since the very first day of class.

His jeans were tight, far too tight and he was wearing a flannel and his dark hair was pushed off his face. And boots. Boots. The boots.

I wasn’t fucking dozing off. Harry fucking Styles was standing in front of the class. The boy I’d spilled my heart and mind out to.

He was standing in my class, in front of the room, and his eyes were on me gauging my reaction. I was going to be sick or pass out or maybe both at the same time if it were physically possible.

I knew I should have probably looked away but I couldn’t. Because he was still staring at me and my blood was starting to run hot throughout my body. I wanted to yell, scream at him.

He was him. He was Harry, crowdedhearts, and he was in my fucking english class and he hadn’t fucking said anything to me. He didn’t introduce himself on the first day of class. Or tell me even he was in my class. He hadn’t said a single fucking thing about it.

It wasn’t until he spoke though that I was sure.

His voice was shaky and he looked at me almost the entire presentation. His voice was deeper in person but he still spoke as slow.

I was going to pass out from exhaustion, after I threw up from stress, I could feel it.

I listened to him talk, I didn’t actually really hear what he was saying because blood was pumping too hard in my ears. And I watched him. He seemed terrified, which, well if I was being honest he should be.

Five minutes hit and he was done and left the front of the room and started to walk back to his seat. And I just couldn’t. So before the professor could even call the next person up, I was jumping out of my seat with my bag and making a run for the door at the top of the seats.

I needed to go home. I needed to go home and scream, throw up, and sleep forever.

I didn't give a fuck about my presentation or my grade or anything. He'd fucking hid from me and basically lied to me everyday. Even when he knew he was the only person I could open up to, the only person I had.

Once I was out of the hall I tried my absolute hardest to keep it together and just get out of the building.

I should have expected it, when I was halfway down the empty hall and I heard, “Cal! Wait!”

I didn't turn around, refused to really. Just forced my legs to keep moving even if they felt like jello and tried to remind my lungs to take in oxygen.

I heard him getting closer to me, his footsteps were louder and I just wanted to get out of the building.

“Cal, please,” and then I felt warm fingers around my wrist.

I ripped away from him, feeling like my lungs might explode as I finally spun around, "Don't. Touch. Me."

“Calla, please j-jus’ lemme explain,” his eyes were wide and tired looking and it was so terrifying because he was the one that comforted me on the phone almost every night.

“Don’t,” I warned, but I wasn’t really sure what I was warning him about.

He shook his head quickly, "I swear 's not like you think it is-."

“Honestly I don’t even know what I think it is,” I shook my head, “I’m fucking exhausted and I want to go home. I wanna go home and sleep for like twelve hours and then. Then maybe I’ll fucking deal with this,” I gestured my hand between us. I couldn't even label my emotions. Not when he'd let me make a complete ass out of myself and hadn't even bothered to stop me.

“Cal, please lemme like, lemme take you home at least,” his eyes looked pleading. And they were green. So fucking green. And I hated myself for considering saying yes for just a second.

"Right, that sounds like a good idea," I hissed and spun around to storm off again.

“Please, I know you don’t have a car here yet. Lemme just take you home. I-it’s raining out,” he was right, I could hear the rain against the big glass doors that I was approaching.

“It’s fine,” I didn’t care how I got home. I’d walk if I had to even though it was a couple miles away. I didn’t care if I passed out in the middle of a sidewalk really. There was no way in hell I was going anywhere with him.

"Cal, you haven't slept yet," he urged and I had to restrain myself from turning around and screaming at him.

"I'd rather take a fucking cab," I spat because it was true. I'd rather pay a ridiculous fare than be anywhere with him.

“L-lemme pay your fare then, yeah? Lemme just like, do something,” he pleaded, “Please.”

I reached the doors and spun around, “You lied.”

"I know," he mumbled sheepishly, suddenly looking much smaller than he had the first day of class.

"You let me humiliate myself!" I couldn’t help it.

“I swear I didn’t mean to. I just. You said you didn’t want to like hang out and I just thought-,” he started, stumbling over his words as if he couldn’t get them out fast enough to stop me from walking away.

“Just. Don’t,” I mumbled, “Please.”

“Cal,” he sounded completely defeated, “I didn’t not tell you to upset you.”

“Y-you could have fucking said something,” I hissed, “You could have fucking told me when you fucking stared at me on the first day of school. Or you could have called me and told me that night. Fuck, it’s been almost a month. You’ve had a month to tell me.”

“I know,” he mumbled again, “I just. I didn’t want to freak you out. Fuck. You said yourself you were scared to meet me. How was I supposed to just tell you we’re in the same class?”

My head hurt, “I-I fucking made a post about you and fucking, it was about you. You told me to fucking sit next to you!” I knew we shouldn’t have this discussion in an empty school hall but.

Harry ran a hand through his hair then, “What else was I meant to do? Just pretend you weren’t there? The first time I saw you I knew it was you but you’d already told me you were scared to actually hang out with me. So what was I meant to do?”

“You let me talk about you to you,” was all I could say.

“I-I know but I couldn’t just come out and say the cute older boy in your english class was me,” he tried to insist, “I knew you’d freak out and push me away and just. I couldn’t let that happen. But I ended up making it worse anyway.”

“Oh god,” I shook my head and pushed the door open. I didn’t care that it was raining, I just needed to go home.

I knew in the back of my head that I was making the entire situation worse by running away from it, but really that was all I ever did.

“Calla! Wait, please lemme take you home,” he followed me out into the rain. I should have cared that my bag was getting wet and my hair was going to be soaked but I didn’t. My head hurt and my eyes were fuzzy. I needed to sleep for fifteen hours and pretend the day had never happened.

I just shook my head and kept walking.

“Here,” he was standing on the side of me and holding a twenty dollar bill, “For a cab.”

“Don’t,” I said again, this time feeling much more exhausted with the entire situation.

“Please just like, I don’t want you to walk and you shouldn’t have to pay for a cab when I was the one that fucked up your day,” he sounded apologetic but I just couldn’t. It was fucked up. The whole thing was fucked up.

“I don’t want your money, Harry,” I sighed and stepped out a bit into the street as the light changed, to hail a cab.

“Just, please I feel fucking terrible,” the rain was loud but not loud enough to drown him out like I wanted it to.

I wanted to tell him good, that he should feel fucking horrible, but I didn’t. I just needed to get home and not die or kill him in the process.

I just shook my head, “Bye, Harry,” I mumbled as I managed to get a cab.