Good Intentions

MEGHAN’S POV


I lie in the bed, my mind moving so fast its almost in a blur. As much as I’d like to have Will, well Harry, to myself, I know I cant. He’s right, I have no rights to him. As a person, I really don’t know him. I only know a shell of who he really is.

I get up and make my way down the hall to his room. I stop just outside and listen as he dreams. I decide to step in and check on him. I kneel next to the bed and take his hand. Whatever he is dreaming about must be horrible. His head moves from side to side as if he is trying to remove whatever memory he is dreaming about, out of his head. He mumbles and says things I cant quite make out. I gently shake his hand hoping to wake him just enough so he’ll stop whatever dream he is having. It must have worked because he has calmed down.

I release his hand and sit on the floor and continue to watch him. I listen as his breathing slows and settles down. I decide to go back to bed and try to get up quietly. I accidentally bump his bed and wake him.

“Sorry, I came in here to check on you. You were dreaming, and from the looks of it, it wasn’t a good dream.”
“It’s Ok, no it wasn’t good. It was about rumors people were spreading about me. Whats the worst is that I don’t know if they were true or not.”
“Do you want to talk about them? Or rather not?”
“They say I’m gay or bi”
“Oh” is the only word that can come out. I don’t know how to respond to that.

I watch as he lays there thinking and rolling these revelations over in his brain. “I don’t think I am though.” His facial expression express deep hurt.
“I need my memories back. I need me back.”
I think about the magazines, “Do you want to look through the magazines. I, nor you, obviously, know whats fact or fiction, but it would be a start?”
“Sure, at this point I don’t feel I have much to loose.”

I make my way quietly back to my room and blindly feel in the back of the closet for the stack of magazines Zoe gave me. I take the two off the top, tuck them in my shirt and tip toe down the hall, avoiding the squeaky board under the thermostat.

I step into his room and quietly shut the door behind me and lock it.
I hand him the magazines as he sits up. He pulls the covers back and motions for me to get under them with him.
“Don’t make it weird, its cold, just get in”
I climb in and push the awkwardness to the side. I have to think of him as my brother or my feelings, the wrong feelings, could get out of hand, and I’d loose all focus.

We each take one and start flipping through it. The light from the bathroom is just barely enough to see the words.

He chuckles a little too loudly then covers his mouth. I lean over to see what he’s reading and he points to a factoid square about him.
“How old was I? thirteen?” He flips it over to look at the date and picture of himself on the front. “Eww 18, must not have been a good year.”
“Actually, according to this, that was a good year for you.”
He takes my magazine from me and hands me his. He’s quiet as he reads and flips through pages looking for more.

“I feel a connection to all these guys. I cant explain it, but I know its there.”
“From what I’ve read, you were all very close.”
“Were? What happened?”
“I think too much time together happened. The group had four albums in four years and toured the world three times. That’s crazy.”

“Can you get me some of our stuff?”
I look at him as he places his magazine on the bed. The solemn look on his face is heart breaking.
“I’m sure it would help bring back some of my memories. It would have to.”
I nod my head in agreement but have no idea how I could do that.
“I’ll have to see what I can do. You know how tight a ship Dad runs. I just don’t know how I can do that and get away with it, me or you.”

I lean back on the pillow, he follows.
“So where do we go from here?”
“Mom is going to mail the letter to our local authorities. I guess we wait and see.”
“Do I have time to wait?”
“Think of it as time to learn more about yourself. I’ll try to get back out to Zoe’s next week and find out more. We just play along at this point, we do and be who we are supposed to be.”
I pull the covers back and get the magazines to return to my room.

“Were going to get you back to where you’re supposed to be and find out who you are in the process. It’s just going to be slow I’m afraid.”
I swing my feet over the side of the bed and slide off. I unlock then open the door quietly and make my way back down the hall to my room.
I place the magazines back in the back corner of the closet then climb in bed.I lay down and pull the covers up to my chin and try to go to sleep, scenarios running rampant through my head. First on the list of things to do is to get back over to Zoe’s, Mom will help with that.

I feel my eyes start to close, I allow myself to sleep and not think.

I awake the next morning with the rest of the family and have breakfast with them. I help see Dad and Will out the door, then get started on my chores before I start on my school work.

“Mom, do you think I could hang out with Zoe this weekend?”
“I’ll have to go over it with your dad then give them a call. If not this weekend, we’ll try for the next. I know we all want to get things done now but we cant. This is going to take time.”

I watch her as she is so calm, always has been. I see as she takes Will’s letter and writes her own and places them in a larger envelope. She looks to the side of the refrigerator and copies an address off and places the stamps on.
“I need you to dress warmly and run, literally, to the mail box. I would let you drive but I feel it might grab your dad’s attention if he were to see you drive down the driveway. I’ve already mailed out this weeks bills so I don’t know if he’d believe me if I made up something”

I get up and go to my room and throw on a jump suit and boots. I will be sweating by the time I get back but I certainly don’t want to underdress.
I meet Mom back in the kitchen and she hands me the letter. I exit through the back door so no fresh footprints are left.

I start off with a light jog to pace myself. I remind myself to never have a long driveway, this stinks.
I arrive at the box a little out of breath and place the letter inside, flipping the flag up. All that running for two seconds or less. I turn and head back to the house.

I jog and notice a light snow has started to fall and stop to take in how pretty it is. As pretty as it is, I liked LA much better. I start jogging again and think about LA and before I realize it, I’m back at the door.

I step inside and welcome the rush of warmth. I kick the snow off my boots and am handed a bag to put them in to take to my room.
Mom thinks of everything. She’s going to have to or this may not work out.

Notes

Buckle up - its going to be a wild ride.