Blue

I was in a foul mood by the time the plane touched down in Newark Liberty International Airport, foremost because I missed Harry, but compounded by my ambivalence for flying and the sneaking suspicion the woman across the aisle spent the entire flight staring at me. It was a rough landing and I found this oddly satisfying. Harsh touchdown to the tarmac, the pilot slamming on the brakes like he was trying to avoid running a red light; and yet, I still felt numb. I’d popped a valium and a paxil as the plane took off, washing it down with a shot of bourbon, but it wasn’t enough to lull me to sleep. I sat there, blasting my eardrums with Avatar and Halestorm, and flipped through the pictures of me and Harry on my phone. Those big green eyes, his muscular, tattooed arms and soft pink lips…Jesus. The valium left me feeling fuzzy, but not enough so that I could forget how long two weeks was going to feel.

I switched the phone off airplane mode and turned my cellular data back on, preparing to send Harry a text to let him know my plane had landed. Almost immediately, a voicemail notification popped up: it was from him. My breath caught in my throat. The majority of me was thrilled; my green eyed sex-pot missed me. But there was a tiny segment of my brain—the part that was hazy from the valium/paxil/bourbon combo that immediately assumed this was The Breakup message. The, “hey, had a super time with you and your body and your mouth and your insatiable sex drive but, you know, that’s all it was. A super time and now let’s just be friends.” I’d gotten that speech before and I didn’t want it from Harry. I didn’t want to lose him after two of the best weeks of my life.

I tapped the message button, closing my eyes and letting my body move with the rumble of the airplane. His voice was deep and raspy through my earbuds; it was almost like he was beside me again, mumbling in my ear. “Hey, Laney love, I just got home and…it just…feels wrong without you here with me. I keep looking for you. I keep reaching out to touch you. It’s going to be a long two weeks without you, baby girl, but I…ah…I want you to know that I meant it when I said I love you. I love you endlessly, Laney, and I’m literally going to be missing a piece of my soul until we’re together again. Call me when you land. I love you, baby girl.”

Right in the feels.

I wanted to slither under the seat in front of me and cry until I couldn’t move; until my body was so exhausted from the effort of crying and breathing that I couldn’t function anymore. Just hours ago, I was in his arms and happy. Now, I was just bitter and grouchy and mascara stained. Life was pointless. As much as I didn’t want to be one of those girls who fell apart when she was away from her boyfriend, I clearly had turned into one. In fact, I was their queen.

And that fucking woman across the aisle was still staring at me.

I inhaled deeply and wiped my arm across my eyes, yanking my carryon out from underneath the seat in front of me. I fired off a quick text to Vi: I landed and I’m miserable. Don’t interrogate me or I’ll punch you right in the throat.

It took her a few moments to text back. You’re as charming as a cactus. I’m circling the arrivals. See you in a few.

Yanking my earbuds out of my ears, I shoved them into my carryon and fumbled with my phone to press Harry’s name in contact list. It only rang twice before he answered, “Hey, Laney baby.”

“Hey, Hazza.” My voice caught in my throat. “I miss you.”

He exhaled deeply; a sad sigh. “I miss you, too, baby girl. Was it a good flight?”

“As flights go. Vi’s already circling the airport like the bird of a prey she is, but I’m going to make her wait so I can get a Philly cheesesteak. And possibly another bourbon. And maybe a taxi home just to spite her.”

He chuckled and then sucked in a breath. “Did you get my message?”

“Yeah…and…I’m so in love with you, Hazza.”

“I’ve had noticeably less fun since you left, baby girl.”

“I spent the flight listening to death metal and looking at pictures of us. And….possibly a certain video—or three—of us.”

“If I’d been there, you’d have spent the flight getting laid in the bathroom.”

I giggled quietly. “Something to look forward to if we travel together.”

“When we travel together.”

“I texted Jess from the airport and am back on the schedule for this week. Finals start tomorrow…so, that’s kind of the opposite of exciting. What time do you get in to Osaka?”

“I leave here early, so I’ll get to Japan late….in time for it to be early where you are. I’ll call you when I get in…I’ll be honest, I can’t stand the thought of not hearing your voice for two weeks. So, when I call you constantly, don’t get weirded out.”

“That’s the last thing I’d do.” I sighed again, wishing I could reach through the phone and curl up in his arms. “I should have just skipped out on finals and stayed with you.”

“Nooooo.” The raspy intonation to his voice was even sexier over the phone. “Selfishly, I want the same thing. But…I also love you too much to let you drop out. Don’t make me withhold sex from you, baby girl. I couldn’t physically handle that and punishing me isn’t fair.”

I laughed again. “Oh, Hazza. These two weeks are going to be the shittiest of my life.”

“Skin. Sheets. Kisses. Just wait until I get my hands back on you.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“And I like the sound of you screaming my name.”

I held the phone between my shoulder and my ear as I stood and hoisted my bag over my shoulder, following the people in front of me off the plane. I caught a glance of the woman, peering at me still, as I hightailed it through Terminal E. For a brief moment, I swore she lifted her phone and snapped a picture of me. The fuck?

I turned my attention back to Harry. “You should find an excuse to FaceTime me later.”

“Naughty girl.”

“I’m just saying. Two weeks is a long time.”

“Tonight then, when you’re back at your place. And be naked when you call or it isn’t fair.”

“That escalated quickly.”

“Hey, you had me naked on your bed just hours after we met.”

I burst out laughing, expertly dodging and winding through the mobs of people funneling towards the baggage claim. “As I recall, you stuck your hands up my dress first.”

“Your legs are incredible.”

“Good thing we took all those pictures.”

He chuckled; I could picture his adorable dimple and my fingers ached to touch him again. It’d been what, five hours? So much for keeping it together. He cleared his throat shyly. “Do’ya know which is my favorite?”

“If I had to guess, I’d say the one where we were both on our knees….” I glanced around, suddenly very aware of how very personal this conversation had turned. “And…um…you were behind me and I was leaning back against you…”

“Well, ah, yes…I’m…quite fond of that one, but less naughty.”

“Tell me.”

“There’s one of us just lying in bed together, smiling at each other. You’re wearing my Rolling Stones shirt, I think, and your hair’s all messy…you just look so beautiful. Looking at it makes me happy…just like we look happy in the picture.”

I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. Seriously, how did I get so lucky? He wasn’t like any other guy I’d been with; he was so sweet and romantic and hot and British…and I was so, so in love with him.

####

When Harry and I finally hung up, I stormed through the door into a cold, rainy Philadelphia evening. Perfect—weather to match my mood. I switched my bag to my other shoulder. Vi drove a lime green Fiat, possibly the ugliest car I’d ever seen in my life, and she wasn’t there. Truth be told, drivers picking up arrivals weren’t actually able to stop longer than like, forty-six seconds, so she was no doubt still circling. I sent her a quick text: I’m the one with the blue hair. You can’t miss me.

She didn’t respond. Excellent, she was probably pissed.

“Excuse me.” I turned slightly; the woman from the airplane. “Uh…yeah?”

“I’m sorry if this sounds rude, but you’re her. Clementine.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

She held up her phone: it was open to a magazine article—another picture of me and Harry in Los Angeles, walking hand in hand to his car. Oh shit. “Uh, no, sorry, you have me confused with someone else.”

“Based on the blue hair, I’m pretty sure that’s you.”

“I’m not the only person in the world with blue hair.” Where the fuck was Vi?

“Are you dating Harry Styles?” She squinted at the phone and looked at me. I quickly looked away. “Because, that’s you. And that’s Harry Styles. Seriously, are you his girlfriend? Can I take your picture?”

“No, you can’t take my picture.” I peered down the road, praying to any god who would listen to force Vi’s foot to the gas pedal. “I’m sorry, my name isn’t Clementine. You have me confused with someone else.”

“If Harry Styles was my boyfriend, I wouldn’t deny it.”

“I never said he wasn’t my boyfriend.” I spat out the words like they were sour. “I just said you couldn’t take my picture. I’m a person. I have rights. Do you need me to quote the Constitution?”

“Is he amazing in bed?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“How long have you been fucking him?”

“Again, not any of your business.”

“Can I get your autograph?”

“No!” I glared at her, stepping closer to the curb. “Look, I’m sorry, but I just want to be left alone right now. I’m…um…I just want to go home.”

“But, you are dating Harry Styles? Harry Styles of One Direction?”

At that moment, like a chariot from Heaven itself, I could see the lime green Fiat cruising down the road. Excellent. Better late than never, bitch. “Sorry, I have to go.”

“But—“

“I’ve got to go.” I threw myself to the side of the car, yanking the door open almost before Vi had come to a complete stop.

She glared at me. “What the fuck is your problem? I should have run you over.”

I slammed the car door behind me and balanced my bag on my lap as I buckled my seatbelt. “Just drive.”

Vi maneuvered the car away from the terminal. After several moments of silence, she cleared her throat. “Sooo….Laney. Is there anything you’d like to chat about?”

“I know what you’re going to ask and, yes, I had a lot of sex the past two weeks. A lot.”

“Noted.”

My phone lit up with a text: Harry. I found black panties of yours in between the couch cushions. I’m keeping them.

“Is that him?”

A smile played on my lips as I texted him back. Your fault. I was the one innocently laying there in my underwear and, next thing you know, you’re sliding them down my legs.

Baby girl, you know what that body of yours does to me.

“You’re beaming.” Vi glanced at me and then tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Okay, seriously, who are you? Because Delaney Lee doesn’t swoon over guys.”

“I’m not swooning.”

“Whatever, look, we’ve been friends for a long ass time. You have to be honest with me—“

“I signed a confidentiality agreement.”

“What?” She hit the brakes a tad too hard, jerking the car into a rabbit hop-like decrease in speed.

I burst out laughing. “You’re an idiot. I didn’t sign anything.”

“Fine, fine, look, I just want to know. Did you hook up with Harry Styles?”

“Hook up has such a negative connotation.”

“Get out of the car, Laney.”

“Vi. Honestly.” I sighed, tapping the button on my cell to pull up my lock screen, just to see his face. “So, yeah, there may have been an initial hookup at the wedding reception. I mean, we were talking and the next thing you know we were making out and then we were up in my room…”

“Jesus Christ.”

“And he stayed. But you know that.”

She nodded, easing the car around a sharp turn. “At what point did that turn into you staying with him for two weeks?”

“Before we went to sleep that night.” I held up my hand. “And before you say that was way too fast, you have to understand that there was just this attraction…I can’t explain it, but he and I were just so…I don’t know, crazy for each other. It went deeper than just sex, it was like our souls couldn’t get enough of each other. It was amazing.”

“The sex?”

“Oh my God, the sex was incredible.” I exhaled deeply, sparks shooting through my lower abdomen, my pulse quickening. Incredible was an understatement. “But…it was more than that. Just being with him was…I can’t even describe it. It was comfortable. It was like we belonged together.”

“You were together two weeks and you belong together.” She didn’t sound convinced. In fact, she sounded a lot like my mother did the first time I dyed my hair. You picked purple because it seemed closer to brown.

“You don’t understand. It was electric. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other but, then, we had so much fun just lounging around talking. And laughing. Or, even, just sitting there together not talking; just being close. I can’t explain it. I don’t need to explain it—I’m in love with him.”

“Laney.”

“Violet.”

She reached over and poked me with her index finger. “Harry Styles. I can’t believe my best friend is sleeping with Harry Styles.”

“I’m in love with Harry: a green eyed, sweet, sweet man from Holmes Chapel. I don’t fucking care what he does professionally.”

“Has he told you he loves you?”

“He’s the one who said it first.”

She squealed.

“Vi, seriously. Chill out. He’s just a guy.”

“Harry Styles is not just a guy.”

“No, I’m pretty sure he’s just a guy. I mean, I’ve seen him naked; he’s equipped with the same parts that other guys are equipped with.” I paused, letting my mind wander back to seeing Harry naked…the full description of his body was for my enjoyment only. “Anyway, look, he and I have a normal relationship. We went grocery shopping together and did laundry and washed dishes. Normal.”

“I thought he was on tour.”

My mouth responded before my brain had a chance to stop it. “He is, but he’s flying me out to Japan to be with him.”

“Oh my God, you two are seriously into each other.” She glanced at me again. “You’re going to be famous when this gets out.”

“Hardly.”

“Laney. I saw you in UsWeekly. You know I have a subscription.”

“Okay.”

“You have no idea how huge this is; he’s like, the biggest name in entertainment right now.”

“He snores.”

“He’s won major awards.”

I gestured at her with my arm. “This is his t-shirt.”

“Why are you so calm about this?”

“Because, he’s a normal guy. You put him up on this pedestal, but he’s a sweetheart. He holds the car door open for me. He avoids refined sugar. He likes to be the little spoon when we cuddle.” I shrugged. “He’s just Harry to me.”

“I’ll be honest. I hate you.”

“Whatever.”

“I also hate that he’s amazing in bed.”

“Really? Because that’s one of my favorite things.”

“You’d just better hope that word doesn’t get out about this; you know that girl on the floor above us is obsessed with One Direction.” She turned down the road leading to our on campus apartment. “I mean, the Clementine part might get past a few people, but the blue hair…and the fact everyone knew we were out in Los Angeles for Susanna’s wedding…I just don’t know, Laney. People are possessive of him.”

“Do I look worried?” My phone lit up again, another text from Harry: You should be naked in my bed right now.

“In other news, am I kicked out of the sorority yet?”

“Not officially, but there’s talk.”

I made a noncommittal noise in my throat and texted him back: Maybe if you’re good and extremely flattering to me, I’ll get naked for you on FaceTime.

He texted back right away. Maybe I will, too.

“Is that him texting you?”

“Yup.”

“Are you going to show me pictures of you two together?”

“Nope.”

Vi parked her car next to mine in the lot and we scrambled up the staircase to the building, dodging puddles and drips from the tree limbs above. Our apartment was on the second floor and we walked up quietly, the only sound the squeak of our shoes on the rubber edges of the steps.

I saw the post-it note on our door before she did.

It was one of the longer, rectangular post-its; slapped right in the center of our door. In thick, black marker, someone had neatly written: Laney Lee is a WHORE.

Vi plucked the paper off the door and glanced at me. “Well. I guess the word is out.”

Notes