Summer With Styles

Macey Calihan is a grown woman now, and when she comes in contact with an old box of keepsakes, she remembers a series of incidents that made her the woman she is today. As a youngster, she was struggling with past occurrences of suicide, self harm, and of course depression, all while trying to balance out the good and bad things of her life. She was so close to happiness when her adoptive parents informed her she and her brother, Carter, would be going to the U.K. to spend the summer at her father's recording studio. She then meets the boy -- or boys -- who save her life, only to pick it up and wreck it again in a new, exciting way. Macey falls head over heels for one, while another falls for her. The only thing standing in her way of happiness, is one decision. But as it turns out, some decisions make themselves whether you like it or not.

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6. Drunk on His Kiss

 

Two months. Two incredible, love happy months I had already spent with him, although it seemed like forever. After we both said those three words I had been so afraid of, everything flew by so fast. The media found out about Harry dating me, which was a shame seeing as how I had to sneak out of my condo to go anywhere. Paparazzi were always in my face, nipping me on the latest detail of our relationship.

“I want to take you somewhere,” Harry said, pulling back the curtain, looking down at the cameras. “Somewhere away from the press, away from the chaos.”

“But where?” I giggled, jumping onto his back and waving down at the pap. “They're everywhere all the time no matter where we go.”

My mind flashed back to a couple of days before that when we were mobbed while getting coffees. The studio was only a few blocks away, and somehow we managed to make it there without them hurting one of us. They schemed their way into our personal lives in every way they could, forcing us to spill the beans about us.

“I guess you're right,” he sighed, setting me back on the ground and laying down on my couch. I smiled and went over to him, sitting on the edge and rubbing his chest.

“It's gonna be okay.”

He took my hand in his and kissed my palm. But when he pulled it away, he noticed them. THEM. The shame of my past, the red-tainted lines that I so forcefully made into my skin. He looked up at me, down at them, and up again at me like he was waiting for me to say something. I was frozen in fear. Why did I let him see it? Why wasn't I careful?

“Macey...” he said, rubbing the scars one by one. “What have you done to yourself?”

I didn't say anything. Mute.

Okay, Macey, I thought to myself. You have one of two choices. One, you can tell him you used to be a little demented and did things you're not proud of, or two – you can tell him the truth about your life. Your attempts. Your ruefulness.

“I...I...” I stuttered, pulling my hand back. I felt the tears welling up in my eyes, and forced them back. Finally I choked, “I used to cut.”

Firmly and regretful, I told him straight up how it was. He looked at me bewilderingly, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. It wasn't that hard to believe that I was a girl of pain and suffering, so I didn't understand why he was being so oblivious.

“Why?” He asked politely.

“Lots of things. My parents, school...life in general.”

“How come you didn't tell me?”

“Because everyone that knows judges me for it, and I didn't want you to be disappointed in me,” I sighed, looking away with a single tear trickling down my cheek. He took his thumb and swooped it away.

“I would never! Come here.” He wrapped me in his arms so tight I thought I might never breathe again, but it was the warmest, most sincere hug he'd every given me, so I went with it. “Anything else I should know about?” He asked as he let go.

Well, there was my chance right there in front of me. I was sick of hiding my past from him, and I caved. “I uhm...attempted suicide several times in the last year or so.”

“What!?”

“Please...please don't think I'm some maniac and stop loving me or something,” I begged. “I was unhappy, and I did a lot of stupid things. But in the back of my mind, I didn't want to die at all. All I did was jump off a cliff, and it was more for the adrenaline rush. I thought I'd never enjoy life...until you.”

I smiled at him the best I could, remembering the girl I was just two months beforehand. “Nothing you can say will ever make me stop loving you. I don't care if you've robbed a bank or killed someone. I've fallen for you, Mackenzie Calihan.”

I couldn't help but smile at his support. “I can assure you I've never done that,” I laughed. “But I can also assure you that I've fallen for you too, Harry Styles.”

He kissed me and tapped my nose playfully when he pulled away like he usually did, sending chills up my spine. I could stay in a moment like this forever, just kissing him and loving him and doing everything I never thought I was capable of.

I kissed him again, but more seductive this time, nibbling his lips and teasing him slightly with a little French action. He got into it, sighing. I could tell he was holding back. But this time...I didn't want him to.

“I'm ready,” I whispered, not thinking clearly enough to even realize what I was doing – or saying for that matter. He gazed into my eyes, forming a grin on his perfectly shaped mouth. He was scared – I knew – that he might have pressured me.

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure I love you, and that's reason enough.”

He got off the couch and I jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist as he began to kiss me like he had never kissed me before. I felt myself going backwards, and suddenly my back was against the wall. It was kind of rough in a way, but not so rough to dull out the romantic part of it. He pulled me away from the wall and carried me to my bedroom, where things got heavier than I expected.

My mind fluttered, thoughts running every which way as I watched him remove his shirt, climbing on top of me. My first instinct was to take mine off as well, but he took care of it for me. After minutes and minutes that seemed so long and loving, I gave my heart to Harry Styles.

Clothes scattered on the floor, I looked up to him sound asleep with my head on his rock hard chest. I snuggled up to him and closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of our skin pressed together under the blankets.

Before he had fallen asleep, he gave me his class ring. So it wasn't the most romantic gift in the world but it meant so much to me just to wear it around my neck on a chain. I turned it between my fingers, drunk on Harry's presence. That entire night was one I would remember for the rest of my life.

“Everybody's looking for love, oohhh,” Niall sang at the top of his lungs. We were all at the concert after party together, Me, Harry, all the boys, Gemma, Danielle, and Eleanor.

“Stop singing, Irish man,” Danielle said, poking him in the arm. “You're attracting the hoes.”

“It must've worked, cause you noticed me.”

“Hey now,” Liam threatened, taking a shot of Yager. “That's my girl you're talking to.”

“Oh forget it, Liam. He's just jealous because I can get more girls than him and I'm not even a guy.”

“OUCH!” Zayn laughed, slapping Niall on the shoulder. “Want some cream for that burn?”

“Shut up and get me another beer, you rat,” He ordered, slurring his words a little. I shot an agonizing look Harry's way, over to where he was dancing on the floor with his sister. He stopped and came over, taking the seat beside me.

“Having fun?” He asked, liquor spilling from his breath.

“You're drunk,” I laughed, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

“That's an understatement!!” he yelled, spreading his arms open wide. “I'm plastered, LOOK AT ME!” He took my face in his hands and squeezed my cheeks together, making me laugh and his drunken stupidity. “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I WANT TO TALK TO YOU BUT I MUST DANCE!!!”

He jolted back up and stumbled back over to Gemma, swinging her around and awfully attempting to Tango with her. I decided to join them...I wasn't old enough to drink yet, so I wanted to at least have a little fun with him. We danced the whole night, never stopping for anyone...living while we were young and wild and innocent.

 

 

I pull the chain out of my keepsake box, a big ring dangling at the end of it. It reminds me of first times and youth – carefree and passionate love. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn't take that night back for a billion dollars. It's one of the few things about that summer I don't regret. Then again, looking at the woman I am today – my very own wedding day – I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for him. That night at the club, he taught me how to be carefree. But sometimes, being too carefree can destroy everything you have.

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