Hearts Like Ours

Harry shoved his hands into his pockets as his eyes took in the building before him. The light drizzle was settling into his hair, but he barely took notice of this as he studied the architecture of the library before him.

After landing in Seattle and arranging a car to take him to a hotel, he’d decided it was now or never. If he had any hopes to build any kind of relationship with this girl, he needed to find her immediately. His return flight was booked for two weeks from that exact date and he had no time to lose. The sooner he got this all over with, the better. The responsible side of his personality was taking hold and he had no longer thrown his bags down in his hotel room that he was out the door and on his way to the Seattle Public Library in the blind hopes that he’d be able to find at least a little information about her.

There he stood on the sidewalk, nervously biting down on his lower lip as he gathered the strength to take a step forward. His courage was quickly dwindling and he felt embarrassed again, unsure of what he was doing here. In his mind he was berating himself for being so easily talked into this by his sister.

The journal was in his jacket pocket and he was all too aware of it. It seemed to be mocking him for his stupidity. Why would he fly a world away to meet a girl he’d never even laid eyes on before? It was insane.

These thoughts continued to flutter through his mind as he began to move forward, almost mechanically. He hadn’t noticed at first that he’d even begun walking, the realization only hitting him as he began to cross the busy street. He swallowed hard as he drew closer to the automatic doors that opened upon his approach.

The library was just as she’d described it, large and open, beautiful in an unusual way. In the center of the room, directly ahead, lay a help desk. Behind the desk, a few people were occupied by computers, typing furiously. His eyes fell upon the smallest occupant, an elderly lady on the far end of the desk, pecking at the keyboard. He sucked in a large breath before starting in her direction. She glanced up through her bifocals at his approach before smiling kindly at him.

“What can I do for you?” she asked politely. Harry gave her his best grin in return.

“I have a bit of a favor to ask you,” he responded. She raised her eyebrows, an encouragement for him to continue.

“I’m trying to find a girl. She volunteers here and goes to the University of Washington? Her name is Charlie Dupont.”

The woman made no reply, but rather cocked her head to one side as if considering his words. Harry shifted his weight nervously before opening his mouth to continue.

“I know that you probably can’t give me much information like a phone number or address, but I was hoping you could maybe at least let me know the next time she’ll be in or...”

He trailed off as the woman turned away from him, picking up a walkie talkie on the book-cluttered desk behind her. She pressed down on the button before speaking.

“Charlie?”

Harry held his breath. He had never considered the possibility that she’d actually be here when he arrived, that finding her could have been so easy.

“Yeah?” came a voice through the speaker of the small black object. It was cluttered with static, yet it still sounded so pleasant to his ears. He felt his face heat up at the sound of it.

“There’s a handsome young man here at the desk asking for you.”

“Did Jake pay you to say that?” came the voice again. Harry tried to supress a grin as one of the men behind the desk looked up and started laughing, his nametag reading “Jake” in black lettering.

“Jake didn’t pay me anything. I’m telling you the truth,” the woman said, rolling her eyes in Harry’s direction.

“I’m not falling for it, Rita, but thanks.”

“Well that’s a shame. He’s quite pleasant to look at. Accent from across the pond.”

“Now you’re just naming traits of boys I wish I was dating,” came her response, followed by a light chuckle that reminded Harry vaguely of windchimes. Rita huffed, annoyed as she sat down the walkie talkie and turned back to him.

“She’s downstairs, filing books in the children’s section. Just take that escalator over there straight down.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, smiling at her. True appreciation could be heard in his tone of voice and she winked at him.

“Any time, dear.”

Harry took a deep breath as he began in the direction of the down escalator. He forced himself on it, digging his hands back into his jeans pockets as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Slowly, he made his way down to the bottom floor, stepping out onto the concrete ground. To his right lay the children’s area. The tall shelves were arranged in slight angles and in the middle, a plethora of chairs and beanbags were strewn together for a story time. Only two or three kids sat there, quietly reading their picture books.

His feet began to walk forward as if of their own accord. He slowly ventured forward, glancing down the bookshelves. Nearly reaching the end, a sad sort of hope began to grow in him that maybe she wouldn’t be here and he could come back another day. He still had no idea what he would say to her, how he could possibly explain himself. The long flight to Seattle had done little to calm his mind or help him come up with the right words to make her understand. Worse yet, he couldn’t be sure of how she would react, if she would even want to speak to him.

These were the thoughts that consumed him as he turned the corner of the last set of shelves. He stopped cold in his tracks, his eyes falling on the frame of a blonde girl with a stack of books pressed to her chest. Her hair was pulled up out of her face, her bangs swept aside. Her blue eyes scanned the shelves, quickly taking inventory of the titles before she slid one of the books from her hands back into its rightful place. In a pair of jeans, gray tee shirt, and yellow scarf, he realized he’d never seen anything so beautiful before in his life. His breath hitched in his throat, yet he forced himself to speak.

“Charlie?”

The blonde jumped in surprise, the books falling from her hands. She looked down at the pile of picture books strewn on the floor below her, dismay on her face. Without thought, she leaned down and began to pick them up. Harry did the same, apologetic that he’d startled her so. After a moment, her eyes flickered up to his face and she paused. Harry continued to reach for the books as his eyes met hers.

She recognized him. He could tell by the way her mouth fell open ever so slightly, her eyes scanning his every feature. Confusion was written all over her face, an emotion Harry was happy to accept in place of hysterical screaming or crying, which was unfortunately what he was used to.

Finally taking notice that the books had been cleaned up, she stood slowly as Harry handed her the last of the stack. She absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair that had fallen from her ponytail behind her ear and Harry shifted his weight awkwardly, unsure of what to say.

“You surprised me,” she explained with a slight smile. There was a slight pause before she continued. “Can I help you with something?” she finally asked. Her voice came out quieter than expected and she coughed afterward, doing her best to gain her courage back.

Harry opened his mouth to make a reply, but shut it again as he realized he had no words to answer with. It was such an ordinary question, yet he was at a loss for response. Her brows furrowed together as if she realized she’d said something he was unable to reply to.

“Wait… You were the one looking for me?” she asked instead as she sat the books down on a cart behind her. Harry nodded silently in response. She raised her eyebrows in question, encouraging him to go on. He realized how awkward he was making this entire encounter and cleared his throat.

“It’s kind of difficult to explain,” he began. He paused as he tried to think of a way to start. An alternative came to mind and he spoke again, regaining his courage. “I’d like the proper time to explain exactly what I’m doing here, but I don’t want to keep you while you’re working. What time are you done?”

She took her lip between her teeth, glancing over her shoulder as if to confirm that he was, indeed, addressing her. When she turned back to him, her eyes held curiosity, just barely visible beneath the obvious confusion she felt.

“I have another hour left.”

“Is there a coffee shop around here or anywhere we could talk?”

“Just around the corner.”

He nodded at this, still struggling for words with her standing so close to him. He had to remind himself she didn’t know who he was or what he was doing standing before her when they’d had no prior contact.

“I can wait here for you,” he offered. Her brows shot up questioningly, a small surprised smile taking form on her lips. “In the library, I mean. I can find something to do for an hour,” he elaborated awkwardly.

Charlie still made no response, rather continuing to stare at him as if he were an alien that had appeared suddenly before her very eyes. In a way, he was just that. Harry’s feet began to move him backward, retreating from the entire uncomfortable situation he’d found himself in. He turned to leave, eyes cast on the ground.

He felt so stupid, fumbling over his words as he spoke to her. The last time that had happened to him, he’d been in primary school. He’d made a complete fool of himself in front of her. What the hell was he doing? He was one of the most recognized, influential people in pop culture at the moment and he couldn’t even find the words to communicate with a teenage girl?

He began to aimlessly wonder around, moving up the levels of the library, fascinated by the odd arrangements of everything. The shelves were at different angles depending on which floor he was on. Each level held a different theme, he noticed, as he made his way up. His eyes trailed the rooms as he rode the escalator to the top floor. Taking a seat, his eyes flickered to the window where the city of Seattle silently bustled beyond the glass and steel. The rain was falling, much like on the day Charlie had described in her journal. The book felt heavy in his pocket and he pulled it out, testing its weight in his hands as he considered how he’d explain all this to her now that he was here. He’d already set it all in motion, there was no going back.

The time passed swiftly, though the words never came to him. He was still at a loss for an explanation as he made his way back to the bottom floor. Charlie was waiting for him, sheepishly standing near the escalator, eyes transfixed on him as he made his way down.

“Ready?” he asked. She nodded, curiously scanning his face before turning and heading for the door without a word. He followed behind, watching how gracefully she moved through the rainy Seattle streets, maneuvering her way through pedestrians until they’d arrived at a small coffee house. He held the door for her and she smiled a thanks as she stepped into the warm café.

The walls were painted black with chalkboard paint. Each table was made from recycled desktops, allowing a dip that ran down the middle of each table where white pieces of used chalk were placed. Harry’s eyes scanned the walls in wonder, taking in the various poems, quotes, and sketches scattered along the walls. Charlie chose a table, leading the way through throngs of disinterested patrons, deep in conversation or immersed in their Macbooks. Harry watched her as she took off her jacket, shaking the rain from it before draping over her chair.

“I hear they make a mean espresso, if you’re into that. I’m more of a tea person, myself,” she told him. This was information on her that he had filed away, knew by heart, but didn’t say so as she sat down in one of the seats. Her presence had put him into a zombie-like state in which he felt he couldn’t speak, that no intelligent sounding words could pass his lips to form a conversation. She flagged a waitress over and Harry took the seat across from Charlie, listening as she ordered a mint green tea. The waitress turned to him and he muttered he’d have a cup of the same. He glanced up for a brief second, long enough to register the waitress’ reaction as her face turned hot, taken by surprise just as much as Charlie had been. She didn’t say a word, rather tucked her brunette hair behind her ear before quickly stalking away. His eyes returned to the girl sitting at the table across from him who had been watching him interestedly.

“That waitress is probably tweeting about you in the back room,” she mused. Harry let out a shaky laugh in response, crossing his hands on the table in front of him.

“I’m assuming there’s some sort of logical reason as to why Harry Styles showed up in a public library in Seattle asking about me, but I haven’t come up with one yet.”

This was his opening. It was his turn to contribute to the conversation. He was sure it was driving her crazy not knowing. She had that type of personality, something he’d picked up through the way she wrote about her everyday occurrences. There was nothing he wanted more than to be able to open his mouth and launch into the story, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. The silence stretched on and he fiddled with his hands as she patiently waited, crossing and uncrossing her legs occasionally. The waitress brought the tea in that time and Charlie thanked her warmly, taking a sip as her eyes returned to the boy across from her. She must think he was crazy.

His hands moved without his permission. They reached into his jacket and pulled out the book, setting it down softly in the space between them on the tabletop. Charlie froze, her eyes taking in the familiar pattern stamped into the purple leather. The lack of reaction was deafening.

“Where did you get this?” she finally asked, reaching forward to take it in her hands.

“I found it on a street,” he replied, his voice coming back as he watched her turn the book over in her hands.

“You read it?” was her follow up question. She shook her head, a sad smile appearing on her lips before she began to speak again. “Sorry, that’s a stupid question. You’re here.”

“I wasn’t going to. I’m not sure what I was going to do with it, but I didn’t want to read it. I glanced at it a few times, but I didn’t want to invade your privacy. But there was a lot of shit happening and I was depressed and I needed a distraction, so I just opened it and I began to read. I’m sorry. I completely understand why you’d be upset. I’d probably be angry, too.”

After so many moments of silence, the sentences flowed from him in excess now, strung haphazardly together in a rushed apology for the line he’d obviously crossed. The look on her face read of many emotions, the most prominent being a sort of sadness he felt responsible for. She cut him off before he could say anything else to embarrass himself further.

“I’m not angry you read it,” she told him, shaking her head as she leaned back in her chair. Her bangs had fallen into her face and she swept them back with a trembling hand, her eyes glassy behind the blonde curtain. “ You did what anyone would have done. I would have read it, too. I just kind of wish I didn’t know about it.”

Harry bit down hard on his lip. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried, he simply couldn’t do right by her. Charlie was still examining the book, but glanced up at him after a moment.

“I didn’t mean that to be as offensive as it came out sounding. I just never thought I’d see it again…” her voice trailed off.

“What happened after your last entry?” he found himself asking. Her blue eyes shot up to meet his gaze and he immediately felt embarrassed for his outburst. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that. I keep forgetting you don’t even know me.”

Charlie tilted her head to one side as she considered this. It was true she didn’t really know him, just from what she’d occasionally run across in magazines or talk shows on E! She wasn’t into the boyband scene, preferred alternative rock to harmonizing male vocals on a pop track she’d hear once in a grocery store and later realize she knew every word to.

Still, there was no denying there was a certain pull Harry had about him that she felt unable to resist. She’d done mild research on the band, nothing too extreme, just a few Google searches on late week nights while she procrastinated doing her homework. Harry was on her radar, just barely, but enough to be immediately recognizable to her when she’d turned to face him in the library.

He was charming, to say the least, a description over-used but deadly accurate. Even now as she watched him nervously fold and unfold his hands on the table, the cross tattoo on his hand shifting every time he moved his thumb, she felt drawn to him. How had this all happened? A pop star finds an abandoned diary on a street and reads it, takes interest in the life of a stranger, and flies across the world to see her? It sounded like something from a movie, some romantic chick flick Charlie would openly gag at with her friends but watch in secret on her laptop, hidden alone in her room. These kinds of things don’t happen in real life, yet there he was a mere three feet away. It was a mixture of blind faith and previous research on his character that compelled the words to pass her lips, putting her trust in the hands of a complete stranger.

“Cam encouraged me to begin to build a relationship with Emmett again, so I did. Things were going well, we were getting along. I began to tell him everything rather than writing it down in my journal, but some of the things I said upset him. Like, I’d mention that my parents wanted me to take a certain class or finally decide on the major they were pushing me toward, but I didn’t want to do them. And one night the hostility between them exploded, except this time I was old enough to get involved and I defended him.

So I moved out and began renting an apartment with the money I had saved up. Emmett came with me and we lived together for a week or two when I woke up one morning and he was packing to leave. He said he couldn’t be in Seattle anymore, that it was too heavy a reminder of all the times he’d screwed up. I didn’t want him to go, but he said he needed to and he had some friends who were about to move to the lower East coast he was going to hitch a ride with. I gave him my journal to take with him. I wish I could have given him more, but I was suddenly paying all these bills and had no financial aid from my parents anymore because we weren’t speaking, so I couldn’t lend him any money. He said he had enough to get by on. We said our goodbyes and he just left...”

Harry watched her intensely, hanging on her every word. Her eyes were downcast, her hands distracted by the task of twirling a piece of chalk she’d found on the table. He could tell there was more, was anxious to hear the rest, but kept his mouth shut as he waited. She had been so patient with him to explain his predicament and he was determined to do the same for her. She was taking a leap of faith with him, entrusting her with yet more secrets from her personal life, and he didn’t take that responsibility lightly.

“They made it down there. He was living with his friends in a shitty apartment in New Orleans. Whenever he could find a payphone, he’d call me. I was told he’d just gotten off the phone with me when he was hit by the car. He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going, there was nothing they could do. He died on impact.”

Bright blue eyes had never seemed so dark. Glassy though they were, she had yet to shed a tear. It was obvious that this was painful to her, but she’d worked through it, had become stronger for it. Gemma had been right; she needed someone.

Harry’s hand moved across the table to encompass hers without a moment’s hesitation. They connected and he had a brief moment of embarrassed regret at his actions as she jerked at the contact, startled. She looked down at their hands together, two strangers in a coffee shop just meeting for the first time, and yet there was a level of deep connection that had been quickly established. She’d trusted him so openly, accepting the fact that he already knew everything about her.

Her hand pulled away from him slowly. Her brows furrowed together as she bit her lip.

“This is crazy,” she said with a small laugh, though there was no humor in her voice. Harry sat up straighter, watching her as she pulled on her jacket.

“I don’t even know you. What am I doing?”

Standing abruptly, Harry followed suit, clearly surprised by the sudden changing of her mind. She began digging through her pockets, pulling out a ten dollar bill. Harry stopped her, reaching for his wallet and throwing down enough to pay for both their drinks. Her eyes followed the movements, but his gaze never left hers. She was shaking her head to herself as she began to move urgently through the cafe.

“Charlie, wait,” he called after her, chasing her through the crowded room, dodging customers and empty chairs as he went. She was already out the door and on the sidewalk, trying to hail a cab when he finally caught up to her.

“I don’t even know what you’re doing here,” admitted to him before he could even open his mouth to speak.

“This is insane. You don’t even know me.”

“I know your favorite books, your favorite bands, favorite songs. I know you’re the kind of girl who watches the stars and wonders what the meaning of it all is. You’d rather stay in bed and watch foreign films on Netflix than go to a frat party. I know all the details of every fight you’ve had with your friends, all the key people who make up your social circle. I know you,” he defended. As she pulled open the door to the cab that had pulled up to the curb, she paused.

“So why do you care?”

This was the question he’d been asking himself for months. He wasn’t sure what it was about her that was so important to him, that had reached out to him when he’d needed her. It was all an example of the connectedness of the world, how everything was interrelated and the smallest of things could make a huge impact.

She was moving into the car now, so Harry blurted the first words that came to mind.

“You were there for me when I needed you. You didn’t even know it, yet you changed everything for me.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“Give me a chance to explain it to you. I’m staying downtown...” he began fumbling through his jacket pocket for the card he’d scribbled down the address on in case he forgot the way back. He felt confident he could find his way back on his own, so he instead offered it to the girl in the cab who hesitantly took it from his hands.

“Take your time to make up your mind. I’ll be here for a few days at the least. Just... let me prove to you I’m worth trusting.”

He shut the door for her, firm but softly. The cab driver began to pull forward into traffic. Harry shoved his hands into his jacket as he watched her flip the card over in her hands. Just as the cab began to drive away, her eyes flickered up to meet his. In an instant, she was gone.