The Wind Keeps Pushing You and Me

"This is one of our best selling shirts. It's versatile, professional or casual, we should play into that," Rex said. "I think we need to come up with several patterns and make the shirt in each one."

"Patterns or colors?"

"Patterns are big right now."

"Alright, yeah," I agreed. "That's a great idea. I don't know why we don't have more fun patterns. I love patterns."

"You love ridiculous patterns," Alfie teased. "Essy, can we please go? You're going to be late for dinner."

"I'm always late for dinner," I shrugged. "Miles is used to it by now."

"You're so rude," Alfie said, shaking his head. "I don't know why he puts up with you."

"I don't know why I put up with you," I shot back, sticking out my tongue. I leaned back in my chair. It was twenty till seven, which was when I was supposed to be meeting Miles at the restaurant.

"Because I'm your best friend. Listen, I want to get out of here too. I want to have dinner. At this rate, not only are you going to be late, but Rex and I may be late to our reservations and you know the nice places don't hold them on Valentine's Day," Alfie said.

"We have reservations?"

"It's Valentine's Day?"

Alfie and Rex both looked at my in disbelief. "Yes, Rex, we have reservations, I wanted it to be a surprise but Estlin's heart is the size of the Grinch's pre-redemption. Estlin, you should get on it, too. You're going to be late and you need to change."

I groaned. "Miles is going to kill me. Isn't there something I can wear here?"

"Here," Rex said, tossing me a simple black skater skirt with a black halter top. It was one of my favorite designs Rex came up with. There would be about an inch of exposed skin between the bottom of the shirt and the top of the skirt. "Don't wear those ridiculous socks either."

I looked down at the orange socks that had white ghosts floating around on them. "No way, these are so stylish."

"Essy will always wear ridiculous socks. I don't think I've ever seen her not wear them," Alfie laughed. Alfie was one of the first people I met when I moved to London two years ago. He was the manager at a bar, called me out on bullshitting my way through the interview, then hired me as a bartender. We had been best friends ever since.

I worked at the bar while I interned at Burberry and until I had enough money to open my own studio. I lucked out on a spot with two levels, allowing me to have a studio upstairs and a shop to sell our designs in downstairs.

"Just do something with your hair and make-up. You're going to want to look nice," Alfie said.

"Like really bloody nice," Rex said.

The pair had matching shit-eating-grins on their faces. Clearly they knew something I didn't. "Whatever, go," I said, waving my hands at the pair. "You two have places to be and I don't want to be any later than I already am."

The pair gave me a kiss on the cheek before walking out hand-in-hand. I locked the door behind them, then quickly stripped out of my jeans and t-shirt. I touched up my mascara and put on dark lipstick, then pulled on the clothes Rex picked out. I slipped my black leather jacket over my shoulders and pulled on my black leather ankle-boots, making sure my socks most certainly were showing.

Socks. Man, I love some silly socks.

"Ten till seven," I grumbled. I threw my phone in my purse and rushed out to my car, though there was really no point in rushing now. London traffic was the usual shit it always seemed to be, making me curse the entire way to the restaurant.

I was not a punctual person. I never had been. When Miles and I first started dating it was something that caused many an argument. Finally, he just accepted it and began telling me I needed to be ready thirty minutes before I actually needed to be ready. Sometimes that worked, but often I was still behind, and usually he opted to pick me up if we had reservations or somewhere important to be.

We had both gotten stuck at work late tonight, making it impossible for him to pick me up. I'm sure he had already come to terms with the fact I wouldn't be on time.

Miles and I met at the bar I had worked at, actually. Before I began working there he would come in every now and then, then turned into a certified regular, at least during my shifts, or so Alfie says. We began dating a month after meeting each other and had been together ever since.

Miles is everything anyone could want in a man. He's charming, kind, intelligent, has a steady job, and knows exactly what he wants in life. We often joked about us being total opposites.

I was charming and intelligent alright, but I was picky and cantankerous, indecisive, and, as previously established, always late. Despite owning my own design company and shop, I didn't know if that's what I wanted to do with my whole entire life. Like, I love fashion, but is it what I'm truly passionate about?

Whereas Miles just made a decision and stuck with it, I constantly questioned my choices and analyzed everything to death, often becoming stuck in my own head and aloof to the things around me.

"Fuckin' finally," I grumbled, jumping out of my car. It was twenty minutes after seven, and that was the point in time when Miles goodwill and patience began wearing thin. He often said that there was no excuse to be more than twenty minutes late anywhere. Before me, he always said there was no excuse to be more than five minutes late somewhere, and even that was incredibly rude. But he learned I could give him plenty of excuses.

"'Ello, do you have a reservation," a young woman dressed in an expensive looking black dress with a red rose pinned above her bust asked, greeting me when I walked into the restaurant. It was one of the nicest in London, one Miles often took clients and his parents to, we had been here for both our anniversaries.

"Yes, I believe they're already here. It should be under Bullard, Miles Bullard."

She checked her reservation sheets and gave me a pointed look, obviously noting how late I was. I wanted to roll my eyes, but kept myself in check. "Right this way."

The restaurant was packed. It was a good place to bring a date you were trying to impress on Valentine's. My jaw fell when we got to our table though, because not only was Miles at the table, but so were Miles parents, and more excitingly, my own.

"Mom, Dad," I squealed, not caring about the disapproving looks from tables around us, as well as a look I just caught Miles' mom make.

"Hi hun," Mom said, standing to embrace me. I buried my head in her hair and inhaled deeply. I had seen them at Christmas, but since moving across the ocean I obviously didn't see them nearly as often as I used to.

"Dad," I sighed, giving him a hug as soon as Mom sat back down.

"You look lovely, buttercup."

"Thanks, Dad," I said, letting go of him. He sat back down, I pecked Miles on the cheek and said hello to his parents.

"Well, this is a surprise."

"I wish I could say the same about your lack of punctuality," Edith said.

I smiled. "I'm sure everyone at this table has thought that at least once," I replied with a smile at Edith Bullard. Any up-tight trait Miles had came from Edith. She was a stickler for what was and wasn't proper. I knew she liked me well enough, but she would never totally accept me.

I was fine with it.

"It's no problem love," Miles said, brushing it off unusually easy. He held my hand on top of the table as we all talked. We discussed my parents flight, how the weather back home was and how we should all make a trip to Arizona. None of the Bullard's had ever been, and my parents always hassled everyone to come and see the Grand Canyon.

I was inclined to agree with them.

"How long are y'all in town for?"

"For the week," Dad answered.

"Oh great," Tim, Miles' Dad said, "we can give you a brilliant tour. Take you to all the best tourist spots and all the best local food spots."

While our parents planned their sight-seeing adventure across London, I turned to Miles. "How was your day?"

"Not bad at all. Very busy though. I'm proper starved, didn't have a chance to take lunch."

"You should just open your own business and then you can make your own hours."

He laughed. "Love, I'd say you work more than I do. I think I recall taking you to many a dinner and you inhale everything in sight because you skip lunch."

I shrugged. "I have a good work ethic."

"You have a work ethic that could kill an ox," Mom scoffed.

I shrugged, finishing my Old Fashioned. "I take pretty good care of myself. Between Miles, Rex, and Alfie I have plenty of people making sure I'm doing well."

Our server dropped off our meals and I ordered another Old Fashioned. While everyone else was having some kind of fancy fish dish, I was having a juicy cheeseburger with fries, and I couldn't have been happier after I took the first bite.

"This is so fucking good," I exclaimed. "I need to start getting burgers from fancy schmancy places more often." I took a slight bit of pleasure in the way my parents didn't blink an eye, while Miles' parents both raised their eyebrows at my profanity. Tim at least let out a chuckle.

Miles just shook his head and let out a laugh as well.

As we ate we filled in our parents about our work. Tim talked about how work was going for him, he was a very successful architect, like so successful that Miles had a hefty trust fund and didn't really have to be working if he didn't want to. My own parents were both lawyers, and we were pretty well-off, but I never asked for their financial assistance unless I absolutely needed it, and they made it clear from a young age that was the way it was going to be.

Once our plates were cleared, Miles excused himself from the table to go to the bathroom.

"So, I was thinking I would stay with y'all at the hotel tonight?" I asked, looking at Mom and Dad.

They exchanged tentative glances. "Sure, honey," Mom said. "If you're sure you don't want to spend Valentine's Day with Miles?"

She said it in such a pointed way that my brow furrowed. "Grody, you guys want to spend Valentine's Night together," I shot back.

Tim laughed. "Some of the things that come out of your mouth gobsmack me, Estlin."

I grinned. "Never a dull moment," Miles said, rubbing my shoulders gently before he sat back down. A moment later a waiter came over with two bottles of champagne and began pouring it into glasses and distributing.

"Is this the real stuff? Miles, you know I like nice alcohol, I can't get hooked on nice champagne," I teased.

"It's a special night," Miles said, grinning. He stood, and knocked his fork against his glass, bringing not only our table, but most of the restaurant's attention to him.

"I have a bloody brilliant girlfriend," Miles began. "Really, I do. In every way. She's got a mouth on her, she's never on time, and she's difficult, but God do I love her."

My face was on fire and I wanted to die. Instead of downing the expensive champagne I picked up my over half-full Old Fashioned I hadn't gotten around to drinking yet. It would be the third, and suddenly I wished I had been drinking a lot more quickly.

"Tonight we're here with not only my parents, but hers as well, visiting from the States." There were a few murmurs of greetings for my parents, practically everyone was staring at us and smiling, finding the entire thing romantic and wonderful. "I have a special guest here, to put into song how special she is to me. I would do it myself, but no one wants to hear me sing," Miles joked. "So, lads, if you could come out and save me from blabbing on anymore, that would be ace."

Four boys came from the direction of the back. Four famous boys. Four very fucking famous boys. Whispers began circulating and excitement was in the air for pretty much everyone but me. My cheeks were on fire and suddenly I didn't care any more whether or not I gulped down the expensive champagne because if I didn't cool down my cheeks soon I was going to catch on fire, surely.

The blonde began strumming his guitar and they wasted no time in beginning their song.



How in the world Miles knew the members of One Direction was beyond me, but he either knew them well enough or was paying them well enough to serenade me. They all were right in front of me, our table, I noticed then, being at the center of the room. Something Miles planned, I'm sure.

Once that song was finished a new one started up. I prayed to anyone listening that Miles hadn't planned a whole concert.



When the song was over, everyone was applauding, meanwhile I had just finished my second glass of champagne. It's like no one could tell how uncomfortable I was. Even my own parents were looking at me with beaming expectation.

"Thank you all," the one with longer curly hair said once the room had quieted down enough. "We're One Direction and we're honored to perform for you all tonight, especially you lovely folks."

"Miles, time to get to it, mate," the one with shorter brown hair said. "Estlin, Miles has more gabbing on to do, I'm sure you hear enough of it at home."

Everyone chuckled, I managed a few nervous croaks. Miles took my hand and pulled me up with him, despite my resistance. "Don't be so shy, baby. Estlin, since you came into my life, two years ago, if we want to be specific, which I do, nine-hundred and seventy-five days ago, my life has been infinitely more interesting and lovely in every way."

Miles was slowly sinking to his knees. I picked up my Old Fashioned and downed it, much to everyone's amusement. My hands were shaking like leaves. Miles and I had certainly talked about marriage, in a very vague sort of way. I expected him to propose years from now, not right now. The idea of marrying Miles had always seemed like it was a great one. A lovely one. A happy one.

But now that he was on one knee in front of me with a box open and a huge, hideous diamond ring wanting to sit a top my finger and claim me as his, all I could think that was that I absolutely had to get out of the restaurant.

"Estlin Eleanor Coupe, would you marry me?"

I tried to catch my breath, probably to anyone else it looked like I was surprised (which I was) and emotional (which I was). It didn't take long before it became clearly uncomfortable. Miles chuckled. "Essy? I don't want to kneel here all night, but I will."

I looked to my parents, both with concern beginning to grow on their faces, though mostly still having the same stupid, excited-happy look on their faces as everyone else in this stupid fucking restaurant. Cameras were recording this.

Christ.

I looked at the One Direction guys, they at least seemed to understand this had gone horribly, horribly wrong. They had stepped further to the side of the restaurant. I quickly figured they probably came out through the kitchen so maybe the kitchen has an exist I can use.

"I- Shit- Miles, fuck, I'm sorry," I finally stuttered out, feeling hot tears fall down my face. I tried to take a deep breath, but it didn't help. Miles face fell, he was absolutely shocked. I pulled him up by his arm, but he quickly pulled away from me, sitting back down at the table and downing a glass of champagne. I couldn't even look at his parents.

Some of the waiters had the decency to start moving through the restaurant again, but I still felt like absolutely everyone was watching me. I grabbed my purse and quickly walked away from the table. I could at least hide out in the bathroom until close if nothing else.

Numbly I stumbled through the restaurant, wiping tears from my face and trying to regain my composure. I was behind the barrier that separated the bathrooms and kitchen from the rest of the restaurant when the curly-haired boy appeared in front of me.

"If you're going to the bathroom there isn't another way out, but the kitchen does," he said smiling softly.

I nodded, following him, unable to form words. What could I even say? He probably thought I was the biggest cunt. He led us through the kitchen, the chefs gossiping shamelessly about the scene I had just made, and out the back exit. The rest of the guys were waiting outside, a large, black SUV beside them.

"I think you need a night out to get really boozed up, love," the blonde, Irish one said.

"We'll take you out," one offered. "I'm Liam."

"Niall," the blonde said.

"I'm Louis."

"Harry," he said, a kind smile on his face. They were all smiling at my, no judgement evident in their eyes.

"Okay... Yeah. I'm Estlin, I guess y'all already knew that though... But somewhere, like secluded. Because I'm going to get really shitty drunk and probably cry a shit ton, just so you know."

"I know just the place," Louis said with a grin.

So I didn't think twice and got into the SUV with the four boys, a driver I learned was named Paul, and decided that I wanted to forget this whole stupid dinner had happened.

So, before we even got on the road, I turned off my cellphone and shoved in deep in the depths of my purse.