Harry Who?

After the game I decided I had to talk to my brother. It would be rude not to, right? I went alone, thinking it would be weird if I showed up with Harry Styles, especially since my ex-boyfriend was somewhere in the arena too. We had a nice chat, I congratulated him on his NHL debut, and said I was in the city visiting a friend.

“Congrats, Scott,” I said. “I’m really proud of you, and really fucking jealous. Growing up, we always dreamed of playing in the NHL together.”

“I guess you’ll just have to settle for watching me play,” Scott teased, and I hit his arm.

“If you even make the team, it’s just the preseason, don’t let that get to your head.” I gave him an awkward hug goodbye and said I’d see him at Christmas. It’s not that we aren’t very close, that’s just how my family is; not overly involved in each other’s lives.

I met up with Harry, who was already safely hidden in the car, and he was looking at something on his phone. “Look, Ellie, I found us a place to get poutine,” he excitedly showed me on his phone. “You know, since you didn’t bring any for me from Canada,” he teased.

“Sorry, they seized it at customs,” I joked, and returned his smirk. “Poutine sounds awesome, I’m starving.”

“Tomorrow and the next couple days I have rehearsals for a while, so you’ll be on your own for a bit. You can do all those touristy things you couldn’t do with me,” he added, looking a little sad.

“Rehearsal? For your next concert?” I asked.

“No, we’re the musical guest on Saturday Night Live this weekend,” he answered casually.

“No fucking way, Harry!” I exclaimed. “That is so cool!”

He shrugged. “We’ve done it a couple times, but, yeah, it’s still really fun. That reminds me, you’re coming to watch it, live, on Saturday night.” He grinned, not looking sad about leaving me alone in the city anymore.

“No!” I hit his arm, then apologized for hitting him. “That is so awesome!”

“Yes, and don’t break my arm, why are you so,” he poked my arm muscle, “Strong?”

“Lifting all those books at the bookstore,” I joked. “Is this it? The poutine place?” I asked as we stopped. It was, and it was some of the best poutine I’ve had outside of Canada. Harry seemed to really like it, like, there were sex noises involved in the eating of this poutine. Then, we went back to his hotel and had real sex.

I did not mind being on my own in the city, I wasn’t just saying it for Harry’s sake. I didn’t want to take it, but he insisted on giving me money for food/transportation/other touristy things. It saved me the hassle of going to the bank to get my money exchanged, or informing my credit card company that I would be using it internationally.

“This should cover it,” he handed me a pile of cash, half of which I returned to him. “As long as you don’t use it to see that ex-boyfriend of yours who plays for the Rangers,” he added teasingly.

“Ha,” I snorted, “I would rather pay not to see him.” I was glad he left it at that, and did not seem jealous at all, because it had been a long and hard relationship that ended difficulty. And I did not need to burden my new, er, whatever Harry was, with that unnecessary information.

My first day on my own it was raining, so I went to some museums. The second day I was alone, I took a walk through central park, visited the statue of liberty and Ellis Island, sending Harry pictures of my adventures.

My third day alone was actually an evening because Harry had another concert just over the border in New Jersey. So, I went to another hockey game, and (using my own money, I would have felt guilty otherwise) bought a ticket off a scalper. This time, the Rangers were not playing the Pittsburgh Penguins, so I did not get to see my brother again. I did, however, see my idiot ex-boyfriend Glen, and because I had gotten a ticket so close to the ice, he saw me too.

‘Shit’ I thought when we made eye contact. ‘Where is Harry when I need to him?’

However, I did not need Harry around to make my ex angry, I can do that all on my own. Apparently, me just being there ticked him off enough to get a fighting major (a 10 minute penalty), which sent him back to the locker room for the rest of the game. He was pissed, and when he somehow bumped into me in the parking garage after the game, he wasn’t afraid to show me.

“What are you doing here?” He asked. He kept his distance, and I made sure he kept his back to the wall, so he was between it and me.

I shrugged. “Just watching a game.”

“Oh really? Where’s your fancy boyfriend this time?” He spat.

My carefully crafted confidence started to crumble. “What?”

“Ellie, I saw you here with Harry fucking Styles a few days ago. What are you even doing with someone like him?? Yeah, I know who that is,” he rolled his eyes, as if he knew I would make fun of him for it.

“Oh, is that who I was sitting next to? I had no idea,” I shrugged and played innocent. “I was just here to see my brother.”

“Okay, that part makes sense, but why are you here tonight?” Glen interrogated.

“Just watching a hockey game, is that illegal?”

“No! But when I said I never wanted to see you again, I meant it!”

“You know what? I’m sorry I chose my physical health over you!” I shouted quietly, so we didn’t attract attention.

His expression changed, and I couldn’t read it. “You think I’m still mad about that? Ellie,” he shook his head and seemed to calm down. “Never mind, this was stupid.”

“I’m leaving on Sunday, so you don’t need to worry about seeing me again.” I shouted after him as he walked away. I stood in the parking garage waiting for my ride to pick me up in complete shock.

‘Then what the fuck is he mad at??’ I thought.

I tried to get him out of my head and enjoy my time in New York. When I got back to the hotel, Harry was still in New Jersey. They probably wouldn’t back until late, so I flipped on the TV and raided the mini bar. After a while, I found myself naked in front of the full length mirror looking over the scars left from the surgery. ‘Three fractured ribs, broken femur, cracked ulna and radius, fractured tibia and fibula…’ I listed them as I traced each fading scar. They weren’t as noticeable any more, which is probably why Harry never asked about it, but I knew them well enough that I could find them long after they faded. I wanted to cover them up, and my drunken mind thought Harry’s clothes would do that best (because they’re so soft and pretty!)

By the time Harry returned a couple hours later, the mini bar was nearly empty and I was wearing his clothes and dancing on the bed.

“I see you’ve enjoyed yourself,” he laughed at me as he came into the room.

“Harry! Let’s have sex,” I crawled over to him on the bed. “Right now, before I fall asleep.”

“Let me just grab a shower first,” he eyed me carefully and left for the bathroom. I stayed on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, wishing it would stop spinning.

“So, what did you do tonight? Besides,” he waved his hand at the outfit I was wearing, “playing dress-up.”

“I’m sorry, I went to a hockey game again,” I looked at him with sad apologetic eyes, but he smiled.

“That’s fine, I know you really like hockey. Did you see your brother again?”

I shook my head. “They were playing the Islanders this time.”

“Oh, so did you see your ex?” He asked, his smile melting a little.

I nodded. “I didn’t go to see him, I just wanted to see a game. And I paid for it myself, since you said not to-”

“Ell, I was joking,” he interrupted me and laughed. “You are being silly tonight, what’s gotten into you? Besides all the alcohol…”

“My ex, he said he saw us together, and he called you my boyfriend.” I paused. “And then he said something that I didn’t understand.”

“You talked to him?” Harry sounded a little more worried.

“I ran into him after the game, I don’t know how he found me, but he was mad.” I shook my head as I thought about what he said. “I still can’t figure out what he meant, but I think we didn’t break up for the reason I thought we did.”

It was quiet for a moment and neither Harry nor I looked at each other. Finally he got up and brought me a glass of water. “You should drink this, you don’t want to get a hangover.”

“Thanks,” I took the glass from him.

“I have to go, we’re recording for our new album tonight,” he patted my shoulder before grabbing his jacket and leaving.

I drank the water slowly before falling asleep, still in his clothes. I couldn’t tell if he was mad at me that night, but when I woke up he was next to me, snoring and hugging a pillow.