Hearts Like Ours

Harry ran a hand through his hair, breathing a sigh. He’d awoken that morning to a phone call from the front desk, warning him a herd of girls had collected outside the hotel. Apparently, the photo with the girl at the museum had gone viral.

He read through the brief article on his laptop, curious as to what exactly was getting around. It revealed little beside his presence in the city, citing the girl’s twitter as saying he was visiting a friend. Just as he shut his computer, his phone began to vibrate on the bedside table. Hopeful, he reached for it, frowning a bit in disappointment when he read his sister’s name on the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“So you’re still alive to answer my calls, then?”

Harry rolled his eyes at his sister’s sarcasm. He had yet to get in touch with her after avoiding her calls all morning the day before.

“I had nothing to tell you,” he responded.

“So you didn’t find her?”

Harry pursed his lips as he considered how to answer her question. He would have to admit that he had met her, but it had been a colossal failure up until yesterday. On top of that, he knew Gemma would be prying for details he really couldn’t give. Nothing exciting had truly taken place, though he knew Gemma would be overanalyzing everything he told her. Still, it would feel nice to tell someone.

“I found her when I arrived,” he confirmed.

“And?”

“And I told her about the journal. She was okay at first, but she freaked out at the end. She wasn’t really comfortable with a stranger knowing so much about her, I think.”

“But she was okay with you being you?”

“Yeah,” he said with a slight smile. It was at least one of his fears that hadn’t materialized into reality. Charlie didn’t treat him any different than she would have anyone else, and it was refreshing. He couldn’t recall the last time that had happened to him, when he’d simply introduced himself and it was accepted without questions about tour life or what it felt like to be a pop star.

“So you haven’t seen her since?” Gemma asked.

“I’m getting there,” Harry grumbled into the phone. Gemma sighed impatiently. “She showed up here yesterday. Her friend Cam talked her into it. We spent the day together. It was fun.”

“That’s it? ’It was fun’?” Gemma was mocking him and he smiled despite himself. He missed her, despite being with her only a few days before. If she hadn’t so stubbornly insisted he fly across the world to chase a girl he’d stumbled upon by accident, they would have had more time to spend together. He regretted not asking his sister to accompany him on this adventure, though he doubted she would have accepted anyway.

“I don’t know what you’re after. I’m still a stranger to her. I’m trying to gain her trust.”

“But she came to you. She’s interested.”

“I guess,” he agreed with a shrug as he stood from his bed, crossing to the balcony. It was raining again outside, but that didn’t sway the group of fifty or so girls who had gathered in the street. He could just see them in the distance, felt positive they couldn’t view him. A strange mix of happiness and annoyance built in his chest. He enjoyed the dedication of his fans, their joy at simply shaking his hand or hearing him utter a hello to them. It was exhausting, though, being followed everywhere he went, unable to have a moment of peace or privacy. He leaned his head against the cool glass, the wind blowing rain drops onto the panes.

“So what did you do? What are you going to do? Do you have plans? Do you have her number?”

“We went to a museum, saw the Space Needle. Can you calm down for a second, please?”

He was playing the part of over-crowded little brother. She was prying, but he couldn’t blame her curiosity.

“I’m going to this birthday party thing with her tonight … or at least I think I am. I haven’t actually heard details, but she invited me anyway,” he trailed off.

“Like a date?”

“No,” Harry dismissed immediately with slight irritation.

“Sounds like one,” Gemma retorted without a pause.

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted uncomfortably. “I’m attracted to her. I feel like I know her, but she’s still cautious with me. I still have to prove myself to her and I don’t know how. I don’t even know if I can in a week. And I’m not saying I’m after a relationship or anything, because I really don’t know what I’m after. I just know that I’m here and I like being around her, so I’m taking everything one step at a time.”

For once, Harry was met with silence. A heartbeat later, he heard Gemma hum thoughtfully. He pushed away from the window and paced back over to the bed, falling backward onto it and clenching his eyes shut. Analyzing it made his head hurt.

“So you’re seeing her tonight? In a date-like setting, but not as a date?”

“Gemma...”

“That’s what it is, Harry. Take it or leave it, that’s what it is.”

“Maybe it sounds like that, but she’s guarded. I’m not trying to do anything.”

“Maybe not intentionally, but you flew a continent away to see her.”

“At your insistance.”

“Didn’t take much convincing.”

“I’m done with this conversation.”

“I’ll just call back. Text you incessantly. Maybe leave a dozen voicemails.”

“What do you want?” he sighed, giving up. He could almost feel her smile radiating through the phone.

“Give her something. Not material, because that’s petty. I may not know her, but I can tell she’s not the type for that kind of thing anyway. Let her know she can trust you by trusting in her first.”

“It’s not that simple,” he started, but Gemma cut him off.

“I’ll text you later. See you next week, goober.”

The line went dead. Harry bit down on his lip as he let the phone fall to the mattress beside him. He folded his hands over his stomach and closed his eyes, listening to the rain pitter patter on the balcony. His phone vibrated twice beside him, and thinking it was Gemma again, he rolled over reluctantly to answer it.

It was a text from a number he didn’t recognize. He opened it curiously.

It’s Charlie. Just wanted to make sure you’re still up for Allison’s birthday tonight. Her parents rented out a ballroom and I’ll send you the address. It’s kind of fancy, so maybe snazz it up a bit. See ya at 7?

Harry smiled despite himself. He typed a quick, optimistic response before adding her number to his contacts. It was late afternoon and he reached over for the directory, typing in the phone number to a pizza place for delivery, since leaving the hotel wasn’t an option currently. It struck him he’d have to find a way to leave without causing a scene. He contemplated this, twirling the ring on his finger as he balanced the phone to his ear and waited for the other line to pick up.

-

Charlie examined her reflection in the mirror, twirling in the dim bathroom. The dress was white cotton with red roses. The v-neck was tasteful, the bottom detailed with slight pleats. She shifted uncomfortably in the heels Allison had insisted she wear. With an exasperated huff, she flicked her bangs from her eyes and turned to leave.

As she reached for the door handle, it flew open, hitting her on the arm. She stumbled back a few feet, stunned momentarily.

“I’m sorry,” the woman apologized absently before looking up to examine her victim. Charlie bit her lip as her mother examined her.

Though things had ended badly between the two when she moved out, Emmett’s funeral had brought them together. Charlie had a deep understanding of her parents, that their smothering was meant to protect her, not hurt her. She knew they were compensating for where they’d failed with Emmett, and though she didn’t always like them forcing things upon her, she appreciated their efforts nonetheless.

“Charlize. You look stunning,” her mom breathed.

“Thanks, mom,” Charlie blushed. A moment later, she was engulfed in a hug. As they stepped apart awkwardly, Charlie reached up to make sure her braid was still in place, twirled into an elaborate up-do Allison had made an appointment for at the salon. The four girls had sat side by side earlier in the evening, a treat Allison’s parents paid for. Charlie self-consciously scratched at her arm with a perfectly manicured hand.

“You’re dad’s at the bar with Allison’s parents. I’m sure he’d love to say hello.”

Charlie muttered an acceptance before awkwardly side-stepping her mother. It was apparent to her how hard her mom was trying to make up for mistakes she’d made in the past. She was ever cordial to her, warming up more and more every time the two had contact, which was becoming more frequent as her father called and tricked her into Sunday night dinners at home.

She managed to successfully pull open the bathroom door and step out into the cold air of the ballroom. The room was just beginning to fill with people. Allison stood near the doors to greet friends and family as they entered with various sized boxes and gift bags. It was the first Charlie had seen of her since their manicure, during which she hadn’t gained the courage to tell any of the girls about Harry’s attendance to the event. She’d been artfully dodging the prying questions of the girls all day, insisting she invited a friend who would meet her at the venue. This suppressed their curiousity until Allison brought up the topic of a trip to Europe she was taking with her family during the upcoming winter break.

Charlie checked her watch, twisting the gold links until she could read the face. Harry would be arriving at any moment and she hadn’t said a word about it to anyone. Biting her lip nervously, she sucked in a deep breath and began in the direction of her best friend.

“Charlie!” A voice she immediately recognized as her dad’s was calling to her from across the room. She turned, smiling at him as he waved her over. She shook her head at him in response, trying to communicate her intentions to talk to Allison, but he persistently exaggerated his movements and she sighed, throwing one last futile glance over her shoulder at Allison, who was directing her aunt Ida over to the gift table. Charlie strode across the room as quickly as possible, walking straight into her father’s open arms.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he mumbled into her shoulder. She whispered a thanks to him as she stepped back, tucking a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ear that had fallen from her braid.

“That dress is darling. Did Allison pick it out?”

Charlie turned to her best friend’s mother and nodded. It was true that she’d been forced into wearing the dress Allison had insisted she buy for the special occasion. Allison was studying design at one of the local art institutes in the city and she loved to force Charlie into modeling for her. When she didn’t have time to manufacture the clothing herself, she’d scout them out at boutiques and settle for talking her into putting them on, only satisfied when Charlie left with an empty wallet and a deflated sense willpower.

“Speaking of Allison, I need to speak with her. Excuse me,” Charlie apologized with an embarrassed smile as she wiggled her way out from beneath her father’s arm. Her mom was in the process of rejoining the group, but she squeezed past her and another party goer, determined to reach Allison.

“Hey, stranger. How’s your boyfriend?”

Cam had somehow managed to sneak up behind Charlie just as she reached Allison. The redhead looked up from where she was surveying a birthday card from her grandmother, a grin apparent on her face.

“Boyfriend? Charlie simply insists they’re just friends,” she frowned dramatically. Charlie sighed, glaring at Cam who began to laugh.

“I’m teasing,” Cam admitted between chuckles. “But I think if an attractive boy flies from London to Seattle just to see you, you should probably just go for it.”

Charlie winced and Cam cut his laugher short, realizing she hadn’t yet told Allison of Harry. Allison furrowed her brows together, moving her eyes from one to the other as if she were watching a tennis match.

“He’s from London? How do you even know someone from the UK?”

“I’ve been meaning to explain it to you, but you’ve been busy all day...” Charlie trailed off, unsure of where to begin in her explanation. Allison widened her eyes, urging her on. Just as Charlie opened her mouth to speak, the door beside Allison opened.

Harry entered the room cautiously, peeking around as if to make sure he’d found the right place. Charlie took her lip between her teeth, wishing he didn't look as handsome as he did as he made his entrance at exactly the wrong moment, his hair windswept and his button-down tucked into dark jeans. His eyes landed on Charlie and he smiled at her, but his face fell as he took in the expression on the face of the redheaded girl beside her.

“Shit,” Cam breathed.

Charlie couldn’t agree more.