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.


3. Falling and Feathers


It was happening, and I was falling hard. Nobody could stop me, for I was fierce and in the zone, passionate for a boy that I had just met. I felt no shame, but Harry wasn't everything I thought he was at first. For example – I thought he was only after my innocence, my prized values, morals, and principles...but all he wanted was someone to love him – not as Harry Styles of One Direction – but as Harry Styles, the person. The next few weeks after our kiss, I got to know him better than anyone.

“It's funny how I can open up to you like this,” he whispered, grabbing my hand under the moonlit darkness. The roof of our condo complex was cold, and hard, but just being there with him made up for it. “I've never been able to do that.”

“Neither have I,” I whispered back. In the back of my mind I was guilty of a lie. Not necessarily a lie, but not the truth. I didn't tell Harry of my past – only that I was adopted and my real parents had died. He didn't know about the attempts. He didn't know about the bittersweet, such gray sorrow that I felt that made me do ridiculous, idiotic things.

He looked me right in the eyes, gently caressing my jaw, and said, “When I first saw you on the jet a few weeks ago, I thought you'd have to be insane to go out with someone like me.”

“Turns out I am,” I joked, but it wasn't a joke at all. I was insane, probably, and that was okay in my book. But in his, who knew? So I didn't say anything and he took it lightly. “But I'm glad I did.”

Harry was soft as silk on the outside and the inside, just like Zayn. No – nevermind that – Harry wasn't silk at all. He was more like cashmere. Every time he held me I didn't want him to let go, every time he kissed me with those sweet wine-tainted lips I trembled, and every time I felt the beat of his heart while my head was against his chest...I felt safe. I warmed up to him so fast that Joe and Lizzie actually started to get concerned.

“He'll break your heart,” Joe accused.

“He's a boy, and you know what boys want,” Lizzie joined in on the fun.

But they didn't get it. Lizzie, Joe, and even Carter didn't understand that Harry wasn't just another boy to take me home one day, and I'm gone the next. He was mature, stable, and looking for the kind of affection I could give him.

Laying there under the stars with him, I was home.

“It's going to kill me when I leave. I wish you could come with me,” I stated, bummed out a little by the thought of it. I still had a little over three months to spend with the most extraordinary boy I'd ever met in my life, but it seemed so short.

“Who says I can't?”

Happier then, I lifted myself up and raised an eyebrow, curious. “Are you serious? You would come along to America just because I wanted you to?”

“I'd do anything for you, Macey,” he said as he kissed my lips, smiling. “Anything to see that smile on your face. When you smile, it makes me happy.”

Happiness. Something I had longed for years on end, and it was slowly building its way into my life, inch by inch. I could look at his beautiful face and be happier in an instant. It was like the depression wasn't ever there in the first place, like I found that missing piece to my puzzle and it completed me.

Great. Guess who wanted to take me home to meet his parents?

I threw my phone across my room, scolding and cursing Harry's name for forcing me to do it. Well, okay, he didn't force me, but I couldn't say no to him no matter the circumstance. What if his family hated me and disowned him for being with me? What if they told him to break up with me because I wasn't good enough? That wouldn't be the first time something like that happened to me.

“I can't believe him,” I said to Louis and Niall, strolling through the park. Harry was with us at one point but ran off to get Niall some “crisps” he begged Harry for.

“He's just taking the next step,” Louis said. I swear he and Niall kept tabs on me, but they were becoming my best friends and I trusted what they had to say. “Harry's a big pile of bologna, and he's old-fashioned when it comes to relationships.”

“Mmmm bologna...” Niall hummed to himself, followed by a laugh from Louis and I. “What?! I'm hungry and he's taking forever. I just want to eeeaaattttt.”

“LET'S GO LADS!” Liam yelled from the swings. “Whoever jumps off the lowest pays for the film.”

“RACE YOU!” Niall screamed, running and flailing his arms like a little kid. Louis and I darted after him, each of us grabbing a spot. Lucky me, I got the one right next to Zayn, who had been fairly distant from me since our little...situation.

Seconds later, after swinging back and forth as hard as I could, I jumped into the air, sweeping the wind with my long brown hair, until landing firmly onto my left foot...and my right ankle.

“OOWWW!!!!” I screamed, falling over onto my side, grabbing my ankle in agonizing pain. Zayn was the first to rush to my side, followed by the others. Tears slipped from my eyes, though I tried so hard not to cry in front of them.

“It's okay, it's okay.” Zayn cradled me and tried his best to comfort me while Liam examined my injury. I dug my face into his stiff chest, tears rippling onto his white t-shirt.

“I think it's sprained,” Liam concluded. “Let's try to walk, okay?” I nodded and let him help me to my feet. My ankle was tight and throbbing, like someone had shredded every ligament in my foot and calf.

Harry ran to us, panting and out of breath, throwing Niall's potato chips to him and came to my aide. “What happened!?” He asked worriedly, grabbing my hands, supporting me. “Did you swing jump again, Liam?”

“It was Zayn's idea!” he defended himself.

My eyes turned to Zayn, who nodded apologetically. “I'm so sorry,” he said to me. “I didn't mean for you to get hurt.”

“Just stay away from her Zayn,” Harry scorned, shooting him a nasty look. Zayn was just as shocked as me. “Let's get you to the hospital.

I laid in bed for days until I could walk again. Ice and the heating pad were my best friends, and the medication they put me on for pain was a legitimate enemy. Harry was there every second and wouldn't return to recording or performing until I was better. I thought it was sweet at first, until I found out exactly why.

“I know Zayn's after you,” he said, laying beside me in bed.

“He's not.”

“He is. He's told me he likes you, but what about you? Do you feel the same?”

“Absolutely not,” I assured him. “Remember the first time I went to the studio to hear you guys rehearse?” He nodded. “That day, when we argued about Verdi and Vivaldi, I decided then that I had no feelings for Zayn. Only you.”

“But you didn't even know me.”

“I didn't have to. I had that gut feeling that you were special.” I kissed his lips gently and added, “And I was right. Don't worry about it, I'm yours.”

He giggled and touched his finger to my nose. “Yes you are.”

“You're so childish.”

“You're so inconsiderate!”

“OH YEAH!?” I laughed, knocking him in the shoulder with a pillow.

He stopped, glared at me with squinted eyes, and then said, “Oh now it's on.”

He grabbed another pillow and hit me in the face, and I grabbed his waist, pulling him on top of me onto the bed. I then made him turn over, and sat on top of his back, locking his arms behind him. “How do you plead!?!” I teased.


“Wrong answer,” I laughed, stringing my fingers into his hair and giving it a tough ruffle.


He found a way around my grasp, sliding out from under me and picking me up like a baby. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he spun me around and around and around. “Whoah!” He said, throwing me back onto the bed, trapping me under his torso.

“Ouch! Ouch my ankle!”

Raising up, his eyes grew scared. “I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to babe!”

I laughed evily and said, “Sucker!” before throwing the pillow at his face. Suddenly the fabric busted and feathers flew every which direction, falling gracefully all over the room. We cleaned up immediately, knowing that Lizzie and Joe would be pissed if they were to see the mess.

“You seem happier than when you first got here,” he said, sitting down beside me after we finished.

“Are you saying I was stodgy?” I laughed.

“No, cautious. You were cautious....why is that?”

“Because I didn't want to be hurt.”

“Well, I can promise you – forever – that I'll never hurt you.”



In my keepsake box, I kept a single feather to remind me of love and how it's not always about the lovey dovey cliché everyone plays it out to be. It is indeed about that – but it's about loyalty, faithfulness, honesty...and like that night with the pillows...friendship. That night was the first night I realized Harry and I weren't just boyfriend and girlfriend, but we were best friends. Looking back on the girl I was then, I know that if it weren't for him, I wouldn't even be alive right now. He taught me how to have fun, and how to trust people. But he also taught me that even those you trust betray you.

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