Blue

I flew back to NOVA without Harry. And it sucked.

He still had to do a late night talk show and a few days in the studio and then, by then, my sister’s birthday would be here and he’d fly to Richmond to celebrate with us. I still hadn’t talked to my mother or Vi, so the only part of this I was actually looking forward to, was seeing my brothers and sisters. Once we’d made nice and had a delightful familial experience, Harry promised he’d take me back to Los Angeles so we could just hole up in his house for a while and pretend the world didn’t exist.

Ben picked me up outside baggage claim. He stayed in the driver’s seat and popped the trunk for me; cursing under my breath, I hoisted my suitcase into the back and slammed it shut. I only packed enough to last the trip the Richmond and thankfully left everything else at Harry’s house in Los Angeles.

As I walked to the front of the car, a teenage a girl held out her phone and snapped my picture. “Hi Laney, you and Harry are so adorable together.”

I waved awkwardly and slid into the passenger’s seat. Ben was staring at me and then burst out laughing. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Just drive home, Ben. I don’t need a running commentary from you.”

He checked his side mirror and pulled out into the road. “You engaged or something now?”

“You claim to read all the teen magazines, Benny boy, you tell me.”

He groaned. “No. No, I’m talking about your ring.”

“Clearly, it’s on my right hand.”

“I’m not trying to start a fight with you, Lanes. I’m asking.”

“No, we’re not engaged. I love him, though. I’d say yes if he asked me.” I glared across the car at him. “So, maybe find it somewhere in your cold, black heart to be nice to him when he’s here, okay?”

“Yeah, nothing but charming.”

We fell into an awkward silence. I pulled out my cell phone and idly scrolled through my email box. There was one from Vi—delete—and then one from Louis. Louis Tomlinson.

Ehhhh. The fuck was this?

“I told mom you were coming home, but I don’t think she’s told the girls.” Ben cleared his throat quietly. “She seemed happy to hear you’d be here for a few days.”

“Hmmm.” I made a noncommittal noise and tapped on the email. I really didn’t want to know what he had to say, but curiosity was getting the better of me.

Laney—I’m sorry about what happened the other night. I’m not trying put you in a bad place with Harry or anything, I just had a lot to drink. I’d be a liar if I said you don’t turn me on, but I respect what you and Harry have. Even if I’m jealous. Friends?

This was just weird. But, whatever, I was willing to forgive and forget. But I wasn’t about to say anything in written form that could somehow been seen—and misinterpreted—by Harry.
I typed back: It’s okay, Lou. Friends. No more drinking around me.

“So you really love this guy.” Ben glanced at me and then focused back on the road. “It’s serious.”

“Yes, it’s serious. It’s insanely serious.”

He shook his head and, for a moment, I thought he was going to start laughing. “I’m sorry, Laney, but you barely know this guy. You’ve been together, what, three months?”

“Hey Ben, guess what?” I glared at him. “I don’t care what you think.”

“Well, you should. I’m your brother.”

“Yeah, but you don’t know him like I do.”

He shook his head. For a few minutes we drove in complete silence. I stared down at my phone. I was about to text Harry when a text from Louis came through: Hey, love, thanks for responding to my email. I didn’t want things to be weird between us, you know?

Of course not. Because this wasn’t weird on its own or anything.

I didn’t have the patience to deal with my brother’s shit and Louis being dramatic. It’s okay, man.

Did you tell Harry?

Fuck. I should have known that’s where this conversation was headed. They were probably getting ready to tape the chat show, Late Night with James Cordon, and he was getting drinker’s remorse. Great.

I typed: There was nothing to tell Harry, because nothing happened.

You’re a doll, Laney. I can see why Harry loves you so much.

Well, this was uncomfortable. I closed the text from Louis and sent one to Harry. I wish I’d stayed with you, Hazza. I’m in my own personal hell right now.

Ben cleared his throat again. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m willing to give this guy a chance. I just don’t want to see you hurt; I saw enough of that with Mark.”

Ah, yes, good; as if the conversation wasn’t shitty enough as it was. “Let’s not talk about Mark.”

“I wanted to kill him.”

“Well, join the club.” I shifted uncomfortably. “Harry isn’t Mark, though. He’s basically the exact opposite of Mark.”

My phone buzzed as Harry texted me back. He’d sent a selfie, which seemed to be of questionable origin: he was wearing a sweatband and had on a tight white tank top. Three days, Laney love. You should probably check your suitcase when you get home, though. You know, in case I put something in there for you.

I have mixed feelings right now, Hazza. Profound love for you and concern over the sweatband.

Just you watch tonight, baby girl. It’ll make sense to then. I think I’m getting a cold, my nose won’t stop running. I have several marvelous jokes related to this. Would you care you hear one?

I thought for a moment. No, Hazza, actually not. But it’s super nice of you to offer.

“He showed up at the house the other day. Mark?” Ben looked at me again. “Thank God that Mom and the girls weren’t home. I guess he’d seen you online or something and was trying to get your new phone number. I told him I was going to call the cops on him if he didn’t fuck off.”

“Terrific.”

“There’s one other thing. One, unrelated thing.”

“I hope it’s something mundane, like the house got hit by a meteor or something.”

“Mom’s dating.”

“Jesus Christ, just take me back to the airport.”

“Apparently she’s been seeing him for six months or so, but she’s just now bringing him around us. I mean, the girls I can understand. But us? Even Foster, since he’s only a few months shy of eighteen.”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t actually care. She basically called me a slut for sleeping with Harry. I’m sure she doesn’t want me to throw that back in her face. You can’t tell me that woman is celibate.”

“Which reminds me, for curiosity’s sake, how fast did you sleep with him? Was it really fast, because I feel like it was.”

“It’s not really your business.”

“Come on.”

“Just so you can call me a slut, too? No thanks.”

“That fast?”

“Yeah, well, fuck you.” I turned in my seat and glared at him. “Because I know, even though Mom claims she doesn’t, how many girls you fucked down in the rec room when Mom and Dad let you have parties. I know you fucked Sarah Larson in their bed when they were in Bermuda when we were in eleventh grade. I also know that you had a threesome last year with Beth Snyder and Cassie Richards. So, no, Ben. Don’t fuck with me when it comes to Harry. I’m in love with that boy and I’m not letting you make fun of it just like everything else. Besides, if anyone is going to sell me out to a magazine, it’d probably be you out of sheer spite.”

“I wouldn’t do that, Laney.”

“Okay, well, cool but you’ll just have to be satisfied with knowing that he and I have a lot of sex. A lot. Of. Sex. And it’s amazing.”

“Well, okay then. Good to know.”

“You asked.”

“Yeah. And I have no idea why.”

By the time we got home, he’d changed up the conversation to description of his pre-law summer classes, his recent hookup/breakup with some chick named Missy, and what was actually a hilarious story about trying to find his own apartment. He actually carried my suitcase into the house for me, which I found both strange and suspicious. He was probably just buttering me up because he knew my mother was going to pounce on my like the Mom-zilla we all knew she was.

“Hey, Emily!” Ben cupped his hand and yelled up the staircase. “I picked up the mail on my way home. Your present from Laney is here!”

I heard the thunder of footsteps from upstairs and, moments later, I saw my kid sister at the top of the landing. She squealed. “LANEY!!!!”

She barreled down the stairs and launched herself at me. No sooner was she in my arms, I heard galloping footsteps from all over the house. Foster, Alex, and Joy threw their arms around me like I’d been missing in the jungle for twenty years. I hugged them all tightly. “Heeeey crew. Yes, it’s me.”

Alex buried his face into my shoulder, which was somewhat horrifying that my thirteen year old brother was almost taller than me. “Laney. Laney, you have no idea how weird it is without you. I mean, it’s weird here with you. But without you? Just lame.”

“LANEY!” Joy reached her hand around Foster and yanked my chin downward. “You’re dating Harry Styles. How does that even happen? Harry Styles. Every girl in my class wants to be you, damn it, I want to be you.”

“Joy, don’t say damn it.”

Emily burst into tears.

“Hey, hey, hey.” I used my crowd navigating skills to get her out of the pile of our siblings. Kneeling in front of her, I wiped her tears away. “What’s wrong, kiddo?”

“You’re here. You’re just finally back with us and, I’ve missed you.” She threw her arms around me and hugged me. “I just missed you so much.”

“I’m sorry.” I stroked her hair and looked up at the others. They all looked totally bummed out, even Ben. It finally hit me that I’d fucked up too. In my euphoria of falling in love with Harry, I’d completely written my family off. Which, for my mom was fine because she’d dropped me like a hot potato. But the kids didn’t deserve that. I was being an idiot. “I’ll do better guys, okay? Because…I’m going back to Los Angeles with Harry in a few days.”

“You’re what?”

I looked up so fast that I almost fell over. My mom was staring at us, her brow wrinkled in what was either disbelief or disgust. Maybe somewhere in between.

“I…uh.” I took a deep breath and started again. “I’m going back to Los Angeles with Harry. I’m going to the Billboard Music Awards with him. And…you know, we’re in love.”

“Oh my god, Laney.” Joy suddenly grabbed my hand and jerked it towards her. “Did Harry get you this?”

“Yes.”

“Are you engaged?” My mother practically spat out the words. “You’re twenty-one, Delany.”

“We are not engaged.” I wiggled my hand out of Joy’s grasp and showed the ring to my mother. “He bought this for me because he loves me. Me, mother. Little lost Laney. Someone actually has the ability to love and cherish me. Funny thing, huh?”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s been almost four months with him. Didn’t we go through this after four months with Mark? Weren’t you going to drop out of school for a man who…what’s Mark doing now? Nothing?”

“Stop it.” I held my hand up and then turned, yanking my suitcase out of Ben’s hand. “Harry is not Mark. This is nothing like Mark. And when you’ll meet him, you’ll know. He is everything to me.”

I didn’t give anyone else a chance to speak, instead storming up three flights of stairs to my attic bedroom. When I moved out, my mother had set up a small, private apartment in the attic so I had my own “place” when I was home over holiday breaks and the summer time. The staircase was a little treacherous and the door opened upwards, closing flush against the floor. But it was all that I had. That was enough.

I threw my suitcase on the floor and then carefully lowered the door until it was completely closed. This trip felt more and more like a mistake. It was fantastic to see my brothers and sisters, but my mother was so hard set against me and Harry having a relationship. She kept bringing up Mark, even though Mark was a horrible, horrible mistake. Everybody in NOVA knew it. He’d been this rebellious history major who just wanted to run around and make movies. He also had a temper. And a drug problem. We’d moved in together my sophomore year and sure, I was ready to drop out of school and run around the countryside to be with him. But he got violent one too many times and I went to the cops. There was a restraining order against him for a while, but it had long since expired. I hadn’t spoken to him in years. I had no desire to speak to him, especially not now when I was one hundred and ten percent happy with Harry.

Nobody seemed to get it. Well, total strangers got it. Girls I didn’t know would tweet about me and Harry, saying how perfect we were together and how adorable our kids will be someday. There were Tumbler blogs dedicated to us. His fans got it, either loving me or hating me, they at least understood that Harry adored me. Why couldn’t my own mother?

I unzipped my suitcase and tossed the top back. A few tears trickled down my cheeks and I wiped them away. I just wanted to put on clean clothes and Skype Harry. Then take a nap for about four days, until he got here. This was a mistake. I should have waited in LA with him and flown to NOVA together.

As I unzipped the interior pocket, I noticed a blue box tucked in the netted pouch. I pulled it out, the box was a familiar greenish blue color, with the bold words “Tiffany & Co” delicately written across the top. With the box was a folded piece of paper.

I opened the paper first.

There was that familiar handwriting, hastily written because, no doubt, I was just in the other room. He’d written:

Laney, my love, I feel as if anything I try to say to you won’t be even close to how I actually feel. You mean more to me than words can adequately describe. You enchant me, you overwhelm me. You’ve given me a love that is absolutely intoxicating and you are my best friend. I want to spend every waking moment near you and every night holding you in my arms. You’re my best friend, my confidante, and the woman I plan on spending the rest of my life with. I adore you, Laney, and no matter if we’re next to each other or at opposite ends of the world, just know that I love you—and nothing will ever change that. You know I love to spoil you, baby girl, and when I get there, promise you’ll just wear it and that beautiful smile of yours. All my love, Harry xx

I set the letter down and opened the box.

Laying on a bed of silk was a silver infinity necklace. The delicate chains were looped around the wider ends of the symbol, almost like it was knotted in place. It was simple and beautiful.

I burst into tears.

There was a soft knock on my door and I shuffled over, frantically wiping my cheeks. “I’m busy.”

“It’s Ben.”

“Go away.”

“No. I want to talk to you.”

I opened the door just enough to let him know it was okay and he crawled up the steps, softly closing it behind him. He looked taken aback. I’m sure I looked stunning, with mascara and eyeliner dripping down my face. He leaned against the wall. “So, you’re not okay.”

“I just miss him, actually, thanks for asking.”

Ben looked down at the floor, grinding his toes into the carpet which, upon further review, was a little gross. After several moments of awkward silence, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Mom has no business acting like this, I know, but I think she’s just worried. He’s a huge star. She’s just afraid he’s using you or something, I don’t know.”

I marched over to my bed and snatched up the letter. “Does this sound like someone who’s using me?”

He took the letter and scanned it, his eyes widening with each word.

“And he gave me this.” I held out the necklace, but pulled it back before he could touch it. “He spent close to ten thousand dollars on me in less than two hours. And yes, I realize that sounds like bragging, but Ben. I am so in love with him. I feel like part of my soul is missing without him here. If he was using me, there’d be no letters, no gifts. No staying up all night just talking and laughing and watching ridiculous videos on the internet. You have no idea how we feel about each other. I have found the one my soul adores and I will never, ever leave him, even—” my voice cracked. “Even if it means giving everything else up to be with him”

He was quiet and then handed the letter back to me. Without speaking, he held his arms out to me.

And, for the first time in as long as I could remember, I hugged my brother.

****

We all huddled on the couch like little stair steps, Ben and I were crushed at one end and then right down the row was everyone else: Foster, Alex, Joy, and Emily. It was like when we all used to actually wake up together and watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, except this time the main difference was a) it was well past midnight—on a school night—and we were watching the Late Show and b) my mother was sitting in her recliner knitting something. I didn’t care what it was. The fact that she was in there was weird enough. It was almost like…she was interested.

I glared at Ben. He probably had something to do with this.

After some weird segment about dodgeball (ah, the sweatband made sense, gotcha Hazza) where Harry wore extremely tight shorts and Louis’s hair looked….well, damn it, it looked incredible, the boys all sat on the couch across from James Cordon and started their interview.

I literally wanted to cry. I knew I was smiling like a lunatic; he looked so handsome. It was like I hadn’t actually seen him in months—despite the fact we’d woken up in bed together that morning—and seeing him on television instead of in person was just dizzying. I memorized his movements as if I’d never see him again, the way he crossed his legs and ran his hands through his hair. That smile. God, I missed him.

They made fun of Niall for a while (which he took as good natured as always because, next to Liam Payne, Niall is the kindest man on the planet) and then Cordon started talking about Louis’s lack of girlfriend. He looked over at Harry. “So, Louis is single and Harry. Harry Styles, this is the first time we’ve spent time together where you have a steady girlfriend. Yeah?”

Harry’s face broke into a wide smile and he nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

God, those dimples.

The crowd was screaming. Cordon said, “Harry Styles, spoken for! I feel like…I don’t know, man, I feel like I’ve watched you blossom into this beautiful flower. And now you’re taken by this beautiful mystery girl? We were just playing ball in the gym and now you’re in love…”

“She’s not really a mystery, man.” He was still smiling and again ran his fingers through his hair. He was nervous. “She’s my girl.”

“And her name?”

Harry smiled so broadly, his tongue poked out between his teeth. “Laney.”

Joy leaned over and repeatedly smacked me on the leg. “Oh my god, Lanes, that’s YOU he’s talking about! YOU!”

“Stop hitting me.”

Onscreen, Cordon was motioning for the crowd to key their swooning down. “I was trying to find a picture of her to put up on the monitor, but you two don’t make it easy do you? Here I am, scrolling through your twitter and Instagram, trying to find her—“

“You mean,” Louis interrupted, “you had an intern scrolling through his twitter and Instagram feed.”

Cordon shrugged. “I got bored after the twenty third reference to sandwiches.”

“She and I like to keep our private life, private.” Harry was still smiling, albeit shyly. “Despite what everyone thinks, it’s a normal relationship. We aren’t like, riding magic carpets or something. We just have fun and…ah…watch movies and drive around down with the windows down and the music loud. Just being together is what’s important.”

The crowd awwwwwwed.

I was speechless. He was so sweet and adorable and…fuck, he even looked in love. Maybe I was biased.

“Cheese and rice, Laney, he glows when he talks to you.” Foster elbowed me in the ribs. “I’ve never seen anyone look that in love before, just talking about someone. Except Grandma Dora but she and Pop had been married for like, 70 years.”

I blushed. Maybe it was noticeable.

"This,” Cordon held his hands up to quiet the audience, “this is one we found online of you two. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but her hair is blue.”

The picture flashed up on the screen: it was me and Harry walking hand in hand on a street, probably LA based on the short white shorts and paisley, vintage shirt I was wearing. His hair was pulled up in a man bun and he was dressed in skinny jeans, black shirt, and sunglasses. We were huddled together and one of us must had said something hilarious, because we were both looking at each other and smiling. I had to admit, it was a good picture of us.

The camera again focused on Harry. He nodded, grinning again. “Yes, it’s lovely blue.”

“Lovely girl, lovely person.” Louis echoed. “Top rate girl.”

Niall and Liam nodded.

At some point during this entire exchange, I’d lifted my hand to my mouth and just left it there, pressed against my lips. I’d never, in my entire life, had anyone say something so nice about me. I didn’t remember my real parents, my parents growing up said ‘I love you’ and the like, but it never seemed to go past the surface. Mark had pleaded to me that he loved me—that was a load of shit—but this? He said it in front of everyone. For some reason, this struck me. This wasn’t just us walking around hand in hand or cozying up in a restaurant. It was public now. Extremely public.

And he looked so happy, like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

Cordon swiftly moved the conversation to their upcoming album. I knew he and Harry were close friends, so this made sense. Everyone wanted to know about us and he’d confirmed the information right with Harry—on television. It wasn’t speculation anymore. And then, smoothly, the topic was changed. I knew that’s how Harry would have wanted it. That’s how Harry would have made it sure it happened.

I watched the rest of the interview with my eyes locked on him, watching the way he pressed his knuckle between his lips and the how intense he looked when he’d answer a question. At one point, he looked right at the camera and winked. My entire body shivered; it was like he was looking right at me. God, I missed him. I missed his touch, his kiss. I just missed being with him.

And, it hadn’t even been 24 hours.

Well. I guess the first step was admitting I have a problem. Hi. I’m Laney Lee. And I’m completely addicted to Harry Styles.

“I am, in fact, willing to admit when I’m wrong.” Ben draped his arm casually over my shoulders. “Maybe this kid really does have a thing for you.”

“Yeah. He’s got a thing all right.” My mouth said the words before my brain actually took full appraisal of the situation. Sexual innuendo...leave the door open and I'll come barraling through like the Kool-Aid man.

Ben stared at me and then burst out laughing. Foster and Alex were giggling.

Emily cocked her eyebrow upwards. “I like his hair.”

The boys and I burst out laughing. I laughed so hard that I was gasping for breath; it wasn’t particularly funny but for once, my brothers (and to a lesser extent, my sisters) were like a family again.

And my mother stood up, throwing her knitting on the chair, and stormed out of the room.

Notes

Miss you guy!! Hope you like this chapter! It's the correct version.