Chapter Three

I'm going to assume that by now all of you are starting to get a bit curious about our past. Don't worry, that's a part of this story too. A very important part, as a matter of fact. But we're not quite there yet.

To fully understand Harry and me, you have to understand the effect we have on each other, and not all of that is from our past. A lot of it is just in our nature, not in our history. But, I suppose I owe you at least a little bit, just for the sake of helping you to understand.

Normally, stories give you that part in the beginning. But I never like doing things normally, now do I? So instead, I'm giving you all you need to know, and that's not everything. Some of it is just between me and him. For now, anyways.

 *****

If you really want to know the story with me and Harry, here it is. He was my first love, and every day I curse that fact. But it happened.  

Truth be told, being with him had been wonderful. That was the best way to describe it. Despite my inherent need for precaution (described thoroughly to me by Niall, apparently Harry wasn't one to stick around for more than a few months), he'd been a perfect gentleman with me. I had hesitated before making it official, and he gave me my space. When everything with Niall and Lizzie exploded, he'd been the one to pick me up when it all came crashing down. And while my two best mates were able to choose each other and repair the damage, I stayed with Harry. And I was happy.  

It really wasn't like he was some horrible guy who just wanted me to worship him and cook things and live his life as a misogynistic pig. Not at all.

Don't get me wrong, it's nothing like the whole 'we didn't work out, but he'll always have a special place in my heart.' Not a chance. It's more along the lines of 'we didn't work out, you need to not exist.' That kind of break-up. The messy kind.  

It was a Sunday night, I remember that clearly. How? I don't know. It's just one of those things that stay in your mind, like the first time I failed a quiz in primary school. It stays with me to this day. 

 I'd been finishing up some homework that I'd forgotten about when he walked in. At the time, I hadn't thought much of it. We lived together, after all. He was just walking into the bedroom.

"Ally," he'd said softly. His body leaned against the doorframe, letting it support his weight. At any other time he would have looked picturesque, with his piercing green eyes and casual flirtatiousness, but this was not one of those occasions. Not with what he was about to say to me.   

I hadn't responded immediately, wanting to finish up the sentence I was working on first. "Mhmm?" I replied after a moment, unbeknownst to everything that was about to happen. The calm before the storm, some might say.

"Can we talk?" That was the very moment when I realized that something was wrong and my heart lurched. Harry never, ever asked to talk. He just waltzed right in and struck up a conversation with people. I nodded my head slowly, as his soft voice started to fill the room.

Really, everybody did that. You just came up to people and started talking. When somebody asked you about it, everyone immediately braced themselves for the worst. I think, in some sort of way, it was like procrastinating the conversation. Asking bought you those few extra seconds you needed to pluck up the courage.

"How could you do this?" I whispered a few minutes later, biting my lip. How could you do this to me?" I said again, this time allowing my voice to get louder.

Harry tried to move towards me and I pushed him away. "Al, please, just let explain." His eyes were pleading with mine, trying to grab on to any scrap of hope he had left. But I wasn't having any of it.

The next thing I had known, I was towing my black suitcase out the door, hair flying in the wind. I was burning with anger and confusion and sadness. It breaks your heart, you know, when things don't go the way you planned.

My hand had frozen for half a second before knocking on Lizzie's door, wondering if I should bother waking her so late at night. But then I thought about what it would be like to go back to him and started pounding furiously against the wood.

"Hi," was what I went with when she answered, rubbing her eyes from slumber while the belt from her robe trailed to the floor. "Can I stay here for a while?"

Lizzie hadn't said anything, just opened the door and led me into the living room, making up the little sofa bed for me. There was something about her apartment that just made you feel snuggled the second you walked in. It was painfully small, but cozy, and just what I had needed.

Sometimes, when you procrastinate something you have that moment where you never want it to end. You just wish you could go on doing what you're doing forever, and never have to worry about the rest of the world ever again. Leaving had been like that.

She sat me down and threw her arms around me, pulling me closer. Then, and only then did I let the tears fall. They ran down my face fast and furiously, like raindrops on a windowpane. Sitting there in Lizzie's living room, sobbing into her shoulder. That was when it all became real. It was the only time I really cried for everything I had lost.

I had never cried over any boy, except for him. My brothers had given me some thick skin. And my relationships never really were that long, so I never really got too attached. But Harry was different. I let him get close to me, and it came back to bite me in the ass.

I never told anybody about that, and Lizzie never did either. It was something we shared, just the two of us. A friend will share secrets with you, but a best friend will help us keep your own secrets.

I never really knew how Harry felt about it. Sure, he left what felt like a thousand messages on my phone and tried his best to convince me to come back and forgive him. But I didn't. I didn't even listen to the messages. And eventually he gave up on me, like everybody else.  And, well, you sort of know how it goes from there.

There was a time when we thought we'd be together forever. But that dream was long gone. Now it was more like a nightmare.

*****

I lay on my bunk that night, staring at the ceiling, just thinking. About how all of this would go, about how I missed Zach, about everything, really.

Lizzie strode over next to me and rested her palms on the edge of the bed. I had automatically walked over to the top one immediately, figuring it would be mine since Lizzie was afraid of heights. She didn't ask me to, it was just sort of the thing you do for your best friend.  

"So." Her eyes peered up at me. "What's up?"

"The sky," I responded sarcastically. I had said that since I was a kid and actually thought it was clever. Now it was simply a habit. And, I'll admit, sometimes I still get a kick out of it. I'm a girl of small pleasures.

Lizzie rolled her brown eyes but smiled at me. "Has it been as bad as you thought it would be?"

I rolled over to face her. "Well, no one's been maimed or severely injured, I'd say that's a good start."

"Oh Ally, it's not that bad. You two are both adults, you can handle this." Always the optimist, she was.

"I can handle anything. That doesn't say anything about Harry." Out of the corner of my eye I saw him turn his head at the sound of his name. His curls followed half a second later.

"Whatever." Lizzie shook her head, not believing me for a second. Okay, probably for good reason, but I wasn't going to admit that to her. She placed her chin on her hand, as if she was dreaming of the past. "You know, I hate to admit it, but seeing you together again reminded me of how cute you guys were." 

I swear to god she said that just to get on my nerves. I don't care if people stopped to look at us in the park. I don't care if it was flipping trending on social media. We were not, I repeat, not cute. Don't say it. Don't think it. Did not happen.

People will think any two people that breathe should fall in love. Remember in primary school, the whole 'he teases you and says he hates you, he must like you' bullshit that relied inherently on the male gaze and toxic masculinity? Well, life isn't like childhood love affairs. Sometimes when people say they hate each other they actually do. Like me and Harry. Because out of the seven billion people on the planet, not every single one of them is going to be your true love. In fact, you're lucky if one of them is. Some people just aren't meant to be.

Nobody, not even Lizzie, understands that. Not that she ever says so, I just know that secretly she thinks I'm a little silly for not even trying to work it out and that Harry and I are just being dramatic because its in our natures. She, being a hopeless romantic, just doesn't get it. There's a fine line between love and hate, and it's not hard to cross. Not everybody is going to end up together just because you want them to. Look at all those TV and movie ships that never actually happened!

I have a theory about why he and I did actually fall in love, more or less. I think that given the right conditions, anybody that has chemistry can find a way to love each other. If you have a connection, you have common ground, and if you work hard, you can build something beautiful together. And it would explain why you could love more than one person.

I guess that would mean he and I had to have some sort of link, at some point. But he was just one of the seven billion, not the one.

"We were not cute," I said firmly.

"You were and you know it."

No, actually, I didn't know it. "Liz, we didn't work out, can we just leave it at that?" I didn't feel like arguing, and we could both be stubborn. Best to ward of anything before it started. Even if it wasn't a real fight, I just didn't feel like putting the energy into it when Lizzie would believe what she wanted anyway. 

She nodded as the boys emerged from the breakfast nook, as it was apparently called. We had been on the road for a good while now. Outside it was pitch black, the only light from the other cars and the reflectors on the motorway.

"Reckon it's about time to hit the sack?" Harry asked, stretching. His t-shirt moved up so you could see the slightest hint of his stomach. I chastised myself for catching a glimpse. Really I was just observant.

There were murmurs of agreement from everybody. For fifteen minutes they bustled around the bus, brushing teeth, putting on pj's, contacts removed. I had already done that a while ago. I liked being comfy and usually when I felt like going to sleep I didn't want to get out of bed to get changed and what not, so I did it early.

Instead of going to the bottom bunk, where she was technically supposed to be, Lizzie crept into bed with Niall as I had assumed she would. Knowing Lizzie she would sleep there but keep her stuff in the bottom bunk, where it would start to explode onto the floor after a few weeks. Not that she was a slob, but she wasn't OCD neat like I was. You couldn't find a piece of clutter in my room.

I smiled down at them. Niall and Lizzie, though. That was a match made in heaven for sure. Not to brag, but I was the first one to see it. I never even once considered dating Niall, even though he was one of my best friends, because I already wanted him and Lizzie together so badly. They really were perfect together, and, although I rag on them quite a bit, sometimes it was nice to see. It still made you believe in true love.

I almost regretted going to live at their apartment, just because they deserved some privacy. I'm pretty sure part of the reason they moved in together is because Niall didn't want her living alone in her neighborhood, but mostly because Liz liked her independence and didn't want to rely on Niall's income for her housing. So he caved and moved in with her, although he had another (much nicer) place downtown for when he worked late at the studio. 

And now I'm there with them, too. I almost regret moving in with them. Almost. Because if I wasn't with them, I'd be with him, I thought to myself. Or Greer. 

Turning over, I flipped the switch on the last light and let the lull of the motorway put me to sleep.

Song: That's What You Get by Paramore