Loved You First

View Conversation: Harry :)

Haz?? Where’d you run off to yesterday?
Read 12:05 2nd Jan 2014

…
Harry?
Are you okay?
Read 15:47 2nd Jan 2014

Are…we okay?
Read 15:50 2nd Jan 2014

Did something happen last night?
Read 16:34 2nd Jan 2014

Outgoing call to: Harry :) 18:20 2nd Jan 2014
No answer

Outgoing call to: Harry :) 20:28 2 2nd Jan 2014
No answer

Outgoing call to: Harry :) 22:40 2nd Jan 2014
No answer

Will you please just answer me?
Read 23:25 2nd Jan 2014

Oh, for God’s sake.
Sent 00:01 3rd Jan 2014

I huffed a sigh let my phone drop to the floor with a dull thud, burying my face into my pillow to muffle my scream.

“Alright over there, Ms. Teenage Angst?” My sister teased, and I looked up to see her standing in the doorway to my room, arms crossed over her chest. The worried set of her mouth betrayed her teasing words.

I took a deep breath before beginning in rapid fire Spanish, “Harry won’t talk to me and I don’t know why and I’m pretty sure he’s angry or upset about something I did when I was drunk at Grimmy’s but I don’t fucking remember what happened and now he won’t fucking answer his phone and you know I hate when he gets like this, and it just sucks!”

“Diana,” Cynthia murmured, sitting on the bed next to me and running her fingers through my hair. “Breathe, chiquita.”

“What do I do?” I whined, resting my head on her shoulder and allowing her to wrap an arm around me.

“Just give him some space,” Cynthia suggested. “He needs time to think.”

“Think about what, though?” I huffed. “I don’t remember what happened! Do you know something?”

She bit her lip. “Err…How much do you remember, exactly?”

“It’s all a bit blurry,” I said, sifting through the snapshots in my head. “I remember…a bit before midnight, I’d downed probably like a whole bottle of jack, and I went to dance, and there was this creepy dude, and Zayn and Liam got rid of him. Then…then I went to find Harry? And then it was midnight and I think…I think Imighthavemayhavekissedhimalittlebit?”

“What was that last bit, Ari?” Cynthia asked.

“I think,” I sighed. “I think I kissed Harry. I don’t really know, though. Like, it might have been some crazy alcohol-induced dream?”

“Do often dream about kissing your best friend?” She asked, and when I met her eyes I found genuine concern instead of the smug look I was expecting.

“Honestly? Since LA, it’s been a recurring thing. And after Christmas, it’s like, all I can think about,” I admitted, feeling a blush creep over my neck and face.

“Well…What you remember, did it look or feel different than your dreams?” Cynthia asked.

“It was different. Because he pushed me away,” I shook my head. “That definitely never happened in my head.”

“He pushed you away? Really?” My sister sounded positively shocked and maybe a bit offended.

“Yeah, he was kissing me back at first, had me up against the wall-”

“Ooh, steamy,” Cynthia interrupted, waggling her eyebrows at me.

“Ay, callate,” I shoved at her shoulder. “Anyway, we were like, snogging against the wall and all of sudden he stopped and he was saying something but I didn’t really hear most of it ‘cause I got nauseous and then I was puking and…you were there?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “You were mad at him for something when I walked in. He found Fenna and Gem and he drove us all back here. Even carried Fen into your room and tucked her in. I think he tried to talk to you before he left but you were still mad.”

“Fantastic,” I blew out a long breath. “I wouldn’t talk to him when I was drunk and now he won’t talk to me when I’m sober.”

Cynthia stood up, pulling the covers back from my bed and pushing me to lie down. “It’s one in the morning. Go to bed, Arielita. Tomorrow, you can take the tube to Harry’s and talk to him, yeah?”

****

I didn’t bother with the intercom at Harry’s gate, just punched in the code and walked up the drive to the massive house.

I was shocked to find the front door locked, digging through my bag to find the keys Harry had given me when he’d moved in. I’d never had to use them before, not while he was home from tour.

“Harry?” I called into the house. I set my bag and moved through the living room. All the lights were off, the only source of light being the large windows. The air felt almost stale, and I realized it was because the heat was turned off.

“Haz? Are you home?” I tried again, walking around the empty first level and up the stairs to his bedroom. Once again, the lights were off, the skylight above his bed illuminating the dark room.

It was empty. I sighed, walking down the hall and ducking my head into each of the guest rooms and the bathroom. They were all empty. I walked back into his room, checking his bathroom (empty), and his closet (empty), and sat on his bed.

“Where are you?” I wondered aloud. Stuck with a sudden thought, I looked around Harry’s nightstand for his phone charger. It was gone. I walked into the closet and looked at the luggage on the top shelf. One of his duffels was gone. Resisting the urge to scream in frustration, I opened one of his drawers, and sure enough, his passport was gone.

“Of course,” I scoffed. I padded back down the stairs, opening the door to the garage and counting the cars and the keys on the rack. I knew he would’ve taken a cab to the airport if he meant to stay a while, rather than pay for airport parking. All four cars were present, but one of the key hooks was empty.

“The motorcycle. Of course,” I sighed, pulling my phone out of my pocket an opening up the twitter app.

Sure enough, a 1D update account already had photos of Harry at Heathrow the previous night and LAX that morning. He was carrying the duffel that was missing from his closet.

“Fucking hell.”

@Arielalala: I knew the coward in you would play the lead.

****

“He really just bailed?” Alex clarified, sipping on his Frappuccino and looking at me with wide grey blue eyes.

“Running away from confrontation is his specialty. He usually doesn’t go as far as flying across an ocean to avoid someone, but I guess I’m special,” I said bitterly, taking a sip of my own drink.

“So you finally realized you’re in love with him?” He asked, smirking around the straw in his mouth.

“Oh, fuck off,” I shoved at his shoulder from across the table, but he just laughed. “I don’t think I’m…in love with him. But I mean…I already love him as a best friend, so I don’t think… I mean, it probably wouldn’t be a big jump?”

“I can’t imagine that he doesn’t feel the same about you, babe. That boy looks at you like Fenna looks at Amelie,” Alex said, referencing the girl in our year that Fenna had been hopelessly in love with since she’d met her primary school. “Or like you look at cheeseburgers, for that matter.”

“Hey, I’m American. It’s, like, mandatory to love cheeseburgers. And pizza,” I defended.

“Well, Miss America,” Alex teased, his tone soft. “I think you should just wait it out. Harry will come ‘round. Maybe he just needs time to adjust. He’s probably scared half to death that you don’t like him as much as he likes you, that you only kissed him because you were drunk, or something.”

I heaved a sigh. “You’re probably right. I just wish he’d talked to me first, you know?”

Alex shrugged, taking another sip from his drink. “Boys are stupid. I would know.”

arielagarcia: starbucks hangs with @alexthegr8

@Arielalala: starbucks hangs instagram.com/afwpfapfe

****

“Cynthia? Where are you?” I asked into the phone, one arm linked with Alex’s as we walked in the direction of the subway.

“I’m at a photo-shoot all day, mija,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Did you talk to Harry, is everything good?”

“He’s not home. He went to fucking Los Angeles,” I spat into the receiver. “I gotta go, Alex and I are getting on the train. We’ll be at the flat, alright?”

“You’re explaining when I get home.” I sighed and ended the call, tossing my phone into my bag and then digging out my wallet to find my Oyster card.

There was only one seat on the train, so Alex took it and I sat in his lap. He wrapped his arms loosely around me and hooked his chin over my shoulder so he could see his phone in his hands.
He was scrolling through his newsfeed on facebook and we were laughing at our dumb classmates when I noticed a group of girls sitting across from us. One of them had a phone case with Harry’s face on it and had her phone held out in front of her, pretending to text, but I saw the screen reflected in the window behind her. She was snapping photos of me and Alex.

“Do you see this? I’m gonna say something,” I whispered to Alex, who just nodded and started recording on his phone. We’d learned early on that if I was gonna confront fans, we wanted video evidence that they’d provoked me.

“Excuse me, Harry Styles phone case, do you mind not taking pictures of me without my permission? It’s creepy and weird,” I said loudly, earning the attention of the people around us, who gave her weird looks.

She blushed and ducked her head but she didn’t stand down. “I just think Harry should know what you’re getting up to while he’s in LA,” she said, raising one eyebrow at me.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

“It means,” the girl next to her piped up. “You’re a fucking slag, cheating on Harry while he’s in LA. You don’t deserve him.”

“What the fuck makes you think it’s okay for you to talk to her like that?” Alex snapped, levelling them with a glare over my shoulder. “You don’t fucking know her. You don’t even know Harry. So why don’t you get your nose out of where it doesn’t belong, yeah?”

“You’re a fucking bitch!” The one with the phone case hissed just as the train came to a stop.

“And you’re fucking entitled and rude,” I called over my shoulder at them as Alex placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me off the train.

“Fuck,” I muttered as Alex and I all but ran the two blocks from the station to my flat.

“Are you going to call Harry?” He asked, after I’d unlocked the door and let us in.

“He wouldn’t answer me anyway,” I shook my head and dug my phone out of my bag.

“Little bird?” Louis’ voice came garbled over my phone’s speaker. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I sighed. “It’s just-Uhm, Alex and I sort of had a bit of a confrontation with some fans on the train, just now.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “What happened?”

“I sort of yelled at them to quit taking pictures of me and they yelled back and Alex yelled at them,” I said, pulling my bottom lip between my thumb and index finger the way that Harry so often did.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Did you see if they were recording?”

“Uhm, they might have been, but I honestly don’t know. Alex has a video of the whole thing, though, if they put out a version that makes it look like I antagonized them, or something,” I said.

“Alright. Yeah, alright,” Louis said. “I’ll call management and have them keep a look out in case a video does come out. Can I ask you something, though?”

“What?”

“Why are you talking to me right now and not Harry?” He sounded concerned.

“Harry’s not talking to me. He went to LA without so much as a text,” I told him.

“Seriously?” I heard him suck in a breath. “He texted me to let me know he was going. Said he needed to get away for a bit. I didn’t think he meant away from you.”

“Yeah, well, neither did I.”

****

@Arielalala: I get taking pics of me and Harry together but taking pictures of me when Im not with him is a whole new level of creepy and disturbing

@Arielalala: also cheers for calling me a slag when I’m not even dating Harry much less cheating on him with Alex??

@Arielalala: why do you assume I’m involved with all of my male friends seriously

@Real_Liam_Payne: have some respect for our friends and family please that’s all we ask

@CynthiaNallely: So I heard some of you picked a fight w my baby sis on the train?? Not cool.

@Harry_Styles: There is a line. Mind it.

****

New Message from: Harry :)
Are you okay? Louis called me.

I stared at the phone, knowing Harry would see the read receipt and get frustrated.

The little typing icon appeared and then disappeared four times before my phone started vibrating in my hand.

Incoming call: Harry :)

I stared at his contact photo as it lit up the screen, showing the two of us backstage before the Madison Square Garden show on the Take Me Home tour. Harry had me on his back and my arms are wrapped around his shoulders, his hands curled around the backs of my thighs. Both of us were grinning like Cheshire cats, dimples cratering in our cheeks, Harry’s left one deeper than the right one. My sister had snapped the photo, and I could see Gemma and Taylor Swift in the background, the latter trying to kill me with her eyes.

I braced myself and slid my thumb across the screen to answer the call.

“Ariela?” I almost flinched at the use of my full name.

“Hi,” I whispered.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“No,” I admitted. “But it’s nothing to do with what happened on the train.”

“Ela,” he breathed. “Look, I, Fuck, I’m sorry I left without telling you, I just-”

“Are we ever going to talk about what happened?” I cut him off. “Because it was proper shit of you to just bail on me and without saying anything. Fucking hell, Haz, I had to find out where you were from a fucking fan account on twitter. Do you know how that makes me feel? I’m your best fucking friend for Christ sake!”

“Please, I just need some time to think, Ela,” his voice broke on my name and just like that, all my anger dissolved.

“Okay,” I said, my own voice cracking at the end.

“Okay?”

“Okay, I can give you time if you need it. Just, fuck. Don’t just disappear on me next time, okay? If you want space all you have to do is ask, alright? Fuck, I was worried,” I laughed but it sounded more like a sob.

“I know, Ela. Fuck, I’m sorry, okay? Look…I’m gonna go. It’s like 2 AM over here and I haven’t slept.”

“Okay…But, before you go, can I say something?” I asked hesitantly.

“What is it, Ela?” Harry sighed.

“I didn’t-It wasn’t-I didn’t do it just because I was drunk, alright?” The words came out in a rush, but I knew he understood me from the way I heard his breathing stop.

“Harry?” I asked tentatively. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah. Fuck, Ela, I’m here. I just-I have to go, alright? I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I know you are.”

My phone beeped and the screen lit up against my cheek, alerting me to the call ending.

I sank to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees, legs pulled up to my chest as I felt the tears that I had been fighting all day finally spill out. Sobs wracked through me harshly, nose running and lungs burning. The weight in my chest swelled into my stomach and had me racing for the bathroom, emptying what little I’d had to eat into the toilet as the tears continued.

****

The rest of Christmas break passed much the same. There was a constant weight in my chest and an unsettled feeling in my stomach, sometimes huge and unbearable, sometimes just enough to grate on my nerves.

Cynthia, Gemma, Fenna, Alex and Oli all did their best to keep me from moping. We went shopping, ice-skating, bowling. I spent more time out of the house in those eight days then I had in the last six months. And each day when I got home, I found either Zayn or Louis on my couch, always toting my favorite flavor of Ben and Jerry’s, the only time I was allowed to wallow.

On the last night before school began again, it was Zayn who was sprawled on my couch, arms wrapped loosely around me as I perched in front of him, my back pressed against his unfairly flat stomach.

“I have to piss,” I patted Zayn’s leg and he unwound his arms.

“So ladylike,” He deadpanned, rolling his eyes at me fondly.

“Always,” I grinned, blowing him a kiss before I walked down the hall to the bathroom.

When I exited a few minutes later, I heard Gemma’s voice in my sister’s room. As I passed I noticed the door was open just a crack, and I saw her pacing the room in front of my sister’s bed, phone pressed to her ear and a scowl on her face. Cynthia was sitting on the bed, watching her with a matching expression.

“It’s shit, what you’re doing, H!” Gemma hissed and I froze, my eyes widening as I realized who she was talking to.

“You used to beat people up for doing less than this,” Gemma pointed out, waving her free hand around.

“You’re being a proper tit. Look, she’s your best mate. What are you so scared of?” Gemma gave an exasperated sigh.

“I know, I know, I know,” she said, softer this time. “You can’t just keep running because you’re scared, Harry!”

“Harry Edward Styles!” She snarled. “Mum raised you better than that. You’re a lot of things, but a coward isn’t one of them!”

I shook my head and walked back to the living room before one of the girls saw me or Zayn could get suspicious.

“Alright, babe?” He asked, sitting up and pulling me to sit next to him. “You look a bit shaken up.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied, allowing him to wrap an arm around me as I buried my face in his chest.

As comforting as his embrace was, it felt wrong somehow. His arms were smaller, his body was leaner, he smelled of cigarettes and he wore different cologne than Harry. He was warm and soft and in all ways lovely, but he wasn’t Harry.

@Arielalala: All I’m tryna do-o-o is stop the bleeding.