Chapter forty-one

It was now Friday night, and I was sitting in Harry and I’s room, waiting for Eleanor to arrive so we could go out. We hadn’t really had a night out since I’d been back, with the exception of grabbing dinner maybe once or twice. Truthfully, I was busy with school, and felt like I was getting behind because my head was so full of other things; Harry things. Every time I attempted to study, another little idiosyncrasy of his would pop into my head, and I would end up fantasizing about it for the rest of the night, like the perfect shape of his lips, and how suppliant they felt against mine.

Breaking through my distractions, I heard the doorbell ring. It must be El, I thought. I looked down and shrugged, I was still wearing a Tank top with Harry’s boxers, but El had seen me in worse. I galloped down the stairs into the gallant mudroom, sweeping the door open with a wide smile.

“Hey girl–” The smile suddenly disappeared from my face.

“Expecting someone?” Brian smiled widely at me.

“What are you doing here?” I said, unable to maintain a civil tone.

He shrugged.

“I just wanted to see you.”

“I thought that I made it clear that I really don’t want to see you.”

Brian’s smile failed to waver.

“Well, since I’m here, I think you should at least invite me in.”
I stared up at him in absolute shock, unable to utter a response. He eventually rolled his eyes and attempted to push past me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Stopping the awkwardness,” he said, his face far too close to mine.

I shook my head almost violently.

“No, you’re not, you’re not coming in.” I said, pushing him out of the doorway.

“Alright, I’ll wait here until you’re more suitably attired.” He winked at me. I looked down and felt myself flush with fury.

“You sicken me,” I said, slamming the door in his face. I made sure that every lock was put in place to bar him away. Running up the stairs, I proceeded to slam the door shut, trying to further distance myself from him despite his being outside. I ran my hands through my hair; I was panicking. How did he even know where I lived? Granted, Harry’s house had made a story in a magazine maybe once or twice, but this was taking his stalker-tendencies to a whole new, disturbing level of insanity. I don’t know how long I sat like that for, but I was instantly anxious when my bedroom door opened.

“El!” I stammered, clambering up from the bed to hug her, a mixture of stress and relief. “Thank God!”

“I had to use every key to get in this place,” she complained, hugging me back. “Who’s that guy downstairs?”

She asked, puzzled.

“You didn’t let him in, did you?” My eyes widened in horror.

“Yeah, who is he?”

“The reason my door’s locked!” I flung myself back onto the bed.

“Sorry sweetie, he said he knew you…?” She trailed off questioningly.

I could only nod. I took a moment, calming myself down.

“I think he’s stalking me.” I eventually said. El looked at me for a moment with wide eyes, but then stunned me when she burst out into fits of laughter.

“El,” I whined, “I’m serious.” I smacked at her arm lightly.

“Okay, okay,” she said, stifling her giggles. “But really, Sarah, really?”

“El, really.” I placed my hand on her arm and looked her in the eyes. Something in my expression must have conveyed the truth to her because, suddenly, she no longer found it funny.

“Shall I go get rid of him then?”

I smiled and hugged her tightly.

“You’re the best.”

She stood up, making her way to the door.

“I really am, aren’t I?” She said, cocking her head to the side theatrically as she opened the door. “Get dressed.” She snapped at me before leaving the room.

I smiled to myself as I began rifling through my clothes again. I found a peach coloured dress that hugged my shape nicely. I admired its detailing’s and decided that it would do. Pairing it with all black shoes and accessories, I began sorting my hair in the mirror. I twisted and pinned some locks back, allowing the remaining loose curls to hang free.


Outing by authorsdescriptions featuring oversized cocktail rings

“Hey there, hottie,” El said, smiling, as she walked back in the room.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself,” I winked at her.

“Please, I’m blushing,” she laughed. I laughed too, sliding my earrings into place.

“Brian gone?” I asked her.

“Yeah, he left rather willingly, you should be happy to hear.”

“That’s unlike him.” I said with a slight frown before shrugging it off. Slipping into my heels, I was ready for the party. “Alright, I’m decent.”

“I think you’re more than decent.”

I rolled my eyes at her. She made a face as she dialled for a cab.

--

Not half an hour later, the cab was parked outside the front door. El and I clambered in, shutting the door behind us as the driver proceeded to speed towards London. The party was in the downtown section, in some posh house owned by some model or other. I couldn’t even begin to fathom how much it cost living in a house in the downtown core, when I could barely afford my tiny, little flat.

However, upon our arrival, these thoughts ceased and I became completely absorbed in the overall ambiance. The rooms, although huge, were crowded; the music penetrated every square inch; drinks were flowing and turning perfect strangers into close companions.

I felt someone tap my shoulder and as I turned to view them, arms encircled my waist, holding me against their body, pinning me from turning any further. For a moment, I hoped it was Harry.

“Evening, gorgeous,” an American voice drawled in my ear.

Immediately uncomfortable, I recoiled from his touch.

“Brian!” I turned around in horror.

“Surprised?” He asked me with an idiotic smile.

“Unfortunately,” I snapped at him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He looked perplexed, as if he were expecting a different reaction.

“I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“Ha!” I laughed sarcastically. “You must be so bloody stupid. I told you to stay away.”

He reached for my hand, but I hid it behind my body.

“I like being around you.”

Uncomfortable, I began frantically searching for Eleanor. However, the only faces I could make out were strange and unrecognizable.

“Can’t we go outside and talk for a minute?” He asked again, desperately.

I met his gaze. The sooner I let him talk, the sooner I’ll get away from him, I naively thought.

“Fine, let’s go.” I said briskly as I started making my way towards the door, feeling him trailing close behind me. In front of the house, our faces illuminated only by the light emanating from the windows, I turned to face him. “Talk.”

He looked down at the ground, a slow smile growing on his lips, before meeting my gaze.

“I love it when you pretend to hate me.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You know, it only makes me want you more, this whole little act you’ve got going on here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, there’s no act, Brian.” I resounded firmly. He must’ve been drunk.

“Oh, but there is,” he said, his eyes far too focused to be intoxicated, which only aided in frightening me more.

“The whole ‘I have a boyfriend’, and ‘I can’t stand you’ thing is really over done.”

“But Brian,” I began, “ I do have a boyfriend and I can’t stand you!”

He looked me up and down in a manner that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Where’s your boyfriend now?” He asked me, reaching a hand to stroke my face. When I pulled away, his fingers knotted in my hair, coercing me closer; too close.

“Brian, stop!” I screeched, but he didn’t, and worst of all, no one seemed to notice or care.

His mouth so close to mine, I could practically taste his breath, he smiled at me.

“I can do whatever I want, and who’s here to stop me? Harry?” He mocked me.

Hearing him say Harry’s name sounded wrong; like a nun cursing or a child cussing; sinful. With an anger that burned in my veins, an irrational, inexplicable strength surged through me. I swung my knee back, as if I were getting ready for a drop kick. I’d seen Louis do it countless times when he practiced football on tour, and now I mimicked his style completely. Although, instead of colliding with a ball, my high-heeled foot full on collided with Brian’s balls.

“FUCK!” He bellowed, doubling over, tears forming in his eyes despite himself. He wrapped his arms around his waist as he struggled for breath. I cleared my throat, tucked a few stray strands of escaped hair back into place, securing them with the pins in my hair and then bent over so that my lips were at his ear.

“Harry’s not here right now, and you’re right, we’re all alone,” I breathed before my tone became more sinister. “But don’t you ever, even for a second, think that that gives you the right to take what you want. You are entitled to nothing.” I spat.

I stood up straight and, without looking back, re-joined the raging party while Brian continued to struggle for breath.

--

“Where have you been?” El asked, approaching me where I sat on a bar stool in the massive kitchen, unable to drink alcohol due to my unresolved condition, but in desperate need of something to take the edge off. I settled on Pepsi, which just wasn’t cutting it.

“Trust me, I could as the same of you.”

She sat down on the bar stool next to me looking concerned.

“I asked someone where you were and they said they saw you leave with Brian…?” She trailed off questioningly.

“Yeah, he wanted to talk.”

Her brows furrowed.

“Why does it sound like that’s not what happened?”

“Because it’s not.” I answered simply, taking another sip of my drink before continuing. “He decided that the stalker approach wasn’t working, and that date rape was a better alternative.”

El looked me up and down frantically.

“Oh my God, Sarah, are you alright? Do you need to see somebody? A doctor? Oh my God, I should call a cab, you might need the hospital–”

“El, relax!” I told her, placing a hand on either side of her face to calm her down and stop the rambling.

“Nothing happened, I didn’t let it.”

She nodded, and seemed to relax slightly.

“So what exactly happened?” She persisted.

“He basically accused me of playing hard to get, and then told me that he’d take what he wanted and grabbed me. I kicked him in the dick and told him to never try that shit again.”

All of a sudden, El’s arms were around me.

“Thank God you’re such a strong person. I’m such a shitty friend!”

“El, it’s fine, you’re not my babysitter.” I laughed, rubbing her back. “Besides, nothing happened, I can take care of myself.”

She pulled back, but kept a grip on my hand.

“When Harry finds out, Brian will never be able to set foot in the UK again.”

“No,” I shook my head. “Harry doesn’t need to know about this. He’s already worried about leaving me here, he doesn’t need to feel worse.”

“But Sarah–”

“No ‘buts’,” I told her. “Promise me you’ll say nothing.”

She reluctantly nodded.

“Well, shall we make the most of the rest of the night and dance a bit?” She smiled. Her face fell however, when a stabbing pain in my side contorted my face. “Or if you’re not up to it, I should get you home.” She fretted.

“No, of course we’ll stay, I’ll catch up with you in a minute,” I smiled at her. She made of effort to move, clearly unsure of what to do considering what had already happened. “El, I’m fine, I’m just going to use the toilet and then I’ll be right out there with you.”

“Okay,” she kissed my cheek and then waded out into the heap of dancing bodies. I smiled after her, watching her go, before heading towards the toilet.

The pain was still there, like a sharp cutting feeling in my side. It was already starting to wane, but it worried me. What was happening? Two loud raps on the door made thinking about it difficult.

“One second!” I called. I already felt better, but clearly my situation could not be ignored any longer. Feeling stronger, I exited the toilet and went to dance with El, just as I’d promised.

--

The rest of the weekend passed in a blur. El spent both Saturday and Sunday hung over on my couch. She couldn’t understand how I had managed to escape, un-phased, and I told her a variation of the truth, saying that I’d had less to drink than her. And I technically wasn’t lying, as nothing is always less than something. However, our peaceful weekend was short lived, Monday arrived, and with it all of our responsibilities. El left, went back to her flat to carry on her normal routine, and I drove into London to get on the Tube. Quite pleasantly, Brian was not there to greet me. Nor was he present during the lecture. I prided myself on finally giving him the slip. However, in my joy, I’d forgotten about my meeting with Professor McAllister.

As I was dawning my warm, wool jacket


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at the end of class, he called out to me.

“Miss. Wilson,” he said, his voice booming. I turned to face him and he ushered me to come forth with his index finger. I approached his desk, setting my things down on a nearby chair.

“Yes?” I asked expectantly.

“Please sit.” He said. I did so, but became alarmed when he did not sit down across from me, but rather stood behind me, his arms on either side of the chair. “You may have noticed Brian’s absence today.” He said, and
I was completely stunned. Why in God’s name did he want to talk to me about Brian’s attendance record?

“Yes…”

“I heard about his failure on Friday night.” McAllister said matter-of-factly.

“Excuse me?”

Professor McAllister bent down, his face hovering above my right shoulder.

“Apparently he’s not you’re type.” At that, I shot up from my seat, excruciatingly uncomfortable. “No matter, I’ve sent him home now.”

“You sent him home?” I asked, perplexed as he ushered me back into a sitting position.

“Yes of course, he’s my son.”

I literally felt my jaw drop to the floor. I’d recognized Brian from the moment he spoke to me in the Starbucks, and I now realized that it was through his lineage.

“Oh my God,” I breathed.

McAllister simply smiled.

“Yes, his mother is American, hence why he lives there,” he said as he absentmindedly began pacing around the room. “I was never around much when he was growing up – sadly I think it’s been extremely detrimental to any possible relationship between us – yet this little project has brought us closer than ever.” He smiled at me.

“Little project?” I questioned.

“Yes, you.” He said, crouching down in front of me, his hands resting on my knees. I shifted from underneath his touch, but to no avail. “But since my son wasn’t able to woo you, I now am forced to give it my best try.”
I was both disgusted and exasperated all at once. What the fuck was happening? And who said ‘woo’ anymore?

“Professor, this is horribly unprofessional, I think I should leave.”

“No, you should stay. Hear out my terms.”

“What?” I snapped, unable to maintain a civil tone any longer.

“Listen close, my love,” I cringed, “if you care about your grades and graduating, you’ll enter into a relationship with me. One Direction’s management will then, of course, want you to remain publicly associated with Harry, given the popularity you have attracted, and will pay you to maintain a public front.
This payment, you will split with me and in return, you are guaranteed to graduate. Something that, I can assure you, will not happen should you refuse.”

We remained like that for a minute. I was too stunned to even speak, words would not even formulate in my head, let alone my mouth. Eventually, all I could do was laugh and so that’s what I did; very hard, for very long. After my fit had subsided, I looked McAllister in the eye and with a smile said: “That’s not going to happen.” I picked up my things and started walking for the door. Out of nowhere, hands were on me, spinning me around and before I could protest, McAllister’s lips were crushing down on mine. For a single moment, I was incapable of protest. I didn’t kiss him back, nor did I thrash and scream. I remained stunned into place, eyes wide open. Like being submerged into icy water and in the first stages of hypothermia, I entered into a state of shock. The only thing that was able to break through my inaction was the horrified beckoning of my name.

“Sarah?!”

I shoved the professor off of me and spun around to see the perplexed, hurt face of Harry Styles, and the bouquet of roses that was falling from his hands.

Notes

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