Chapter 7: Harry, Liam and Spoons
I pulled into my driveway, seeing a car there. Assuming it was the lawyers I didn’t give it second thought. I walked in the door, and saw Harry and Liam in my living room, Liam cowering in a corner, my mom holding a spoon and Harry laughing.
“He’s afraid of spoons,” Harry said, still laughing.
“Afraid of spoons?” My mom said. I saw her eyes widen once he had nodded and she had just run from the room. I realized I had left the door open and I closed it louder than I meant to.. I flinched away from the door because my head was pounding. But even though I had the worst headache of life, Harry’s laughter, well, that could have been the best medicine on the planet. Suddenly his laughter stopped and everything that his laugh had made me forget, (Louis betrayal, losing my music journal, and being told off by Nina for stealing Harry away) came flooding back to me. Tears filled my eyes and I ran upstairs, hearing Liam and Harry quickly behind me. I ran up and shoved myself into my closet that contained my bed, hearing them run past and up my spiral staircase.
Into my loft, where my laptop was open and unlocked. And opened to my diary. Thankfully just as I was about to climb out of my bed, they clambered back down the stairs without my laptop. I heard footsteps walking towards my hiding place and I shouted, “Back away, I have a spoon!” while tears still made my cheeks wet and my eyes red. I heard Liam say, “Well, I’m out! I’ll see you downstairs, Harry!” before bolting from my room and slamming my door shut.
I wished Harry would leave but I also wished he would join me in my cozy little area.
“Abby,” he whispered, and I knew he was right next to the curtain now. I stuck my hand out and sighed, opening the curtain and letting him in. He crawled in and took me in his arms, just the way he does when we sit on the roof, like we are in our own world. Away from everything. Just us, in our happily ever after. But I knew I couldn’t have that. Because I, just like anyone knew that the boy I’m sitting with now, was and always will be a player.
But, I didn’t move. I stayed curled into him, smelling him, his sweet pine and gingerbread scent. He reminded me of Christmas, the Holidays and being a carefree kid. We sat in silence for a while, and still, I wouldn’t tell him to go, even if it came to be eleven at night because I wanted him here.
But, I could guess why he was here and I knew the comforting part was soon over. I sighed and uncurled myself from him, stepping out of my closet. He followed, asking what was wrong.
“Why are you here, Harry?”
Suddenly, I saw him change. His face, usually filled with laughter had gone solemn and all the life left his emerald green eyes, making them dull and boring. “It’s about what Louis said.”
I sighed and cried out in frustration. “Of course he told! Why, why didn’t I tell him to go home sooner?” I said, turning my back on Harry and going up my stairs.
“What do you mean, love?” He said, quickly on my heels, trying to grab my hands but I jerked away from him. I went to the far corner of my loft space, shutting my laptop and sitting on the window seat, my head resting on the window pane away from his beautiful face. I knew if I looked into those eyes again, I would spill everything.
I felt him sit next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. “Abby, love, tell me.”
I looked at him, and I saw that his usual exterior, the tough player that no one could ever change, the look of ‘I’m Harry Styles, I get exactly what I want,’ that was gone. Instead, he was genuinely caring, concerned, and loving. I could trust him. I knew I could. And I did exactly what I didn’t want to do. I told him about being abused.
“I’ll kill him,” Harry said when I was done, tears covering my face, my nose runny and my lips dry. I looked like a mess.
“No! No, Harry you don’t get to do a single damn thing. My moms divorcing him, and before he gets back, she is going to prove to the police that he hits us and he’ll be thrown in jail.It will all be over before you go onto X-Factor. Just, please, don’t do anything!” I pleaded, my voice raw from crying.
His eyes softened and he nodded, staring into my eyes.
“So,” he said wiping the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs, “What color is your dress? I need a tie to match for the formal you know.”
I smiled at him. He new I didn’t want to talk about this anymore so he changed the topic. Awesome! “Simple. It’s the color of your eyes,” I said shyly.
“Emerald green- my favorite color on you,” he said, staring at me with his beautiful green eyes staring at me lovingly. He looked like he had something to tell me, something important, or at least important to him. He had his arms around my waist and my hands were on his chest, we were sitting curled up on my window seat. "What?" I said, touching his cheek.
"Come with me," he said.
"What do you mean?"
"When I leave for X-Factor. Come with me, I don't think I could go without you."
"Harry, I-" I didn't know what to say. I didn't know if I wanted to go with him, or if I would be able to deal without him here. Would we even last? He was a player after all. I could go with him to auditions I suppose. "I don't know, Harry. I'll go to auditions but I don't know if I'll stay," I said finally.
He smiled, “I’ll take what I can.”
Suddenly, Liam burst up into my loft. “Spoons! Spoons! So many spoons!”
Harry and I laughed and went over to calm him down. It took a while but, we eventually to calm him and I sat him on my window seat staring at him. He smiled at me, his white teeth proudly showing and it occurred to me that Liam wanted to sing too. Auditions were in a few months!
"Liam, have you thought about going on the X-Factor again?" I asked.
He looked at me, astonished. “H-how do you remember that?”
I sighed at his shocked face. “Liam, you were at Simon Cowell’s house! How could I not remember? It’s been your dream for two years to get back- to win!” I said, snuggling myself closer to Harry as wind and autumn colored leaves of reds, purples and yellows blew into the room. Harry wrapped a sweater around me and smiled down at me and I felt my eyes start to droop. Crying made me tired and snuggled next to Harry, inhaling his Christmas scent, it made me so cozy and comfortable.
I heard him laugh into my hair and he kissed my forehead. “Help me take her down to her bed, Liam,” he said.
“No, don’t go,” I sighed sleepily.
“Love, it’s almost midnight. I do have to go home,” Harry said.
It was almost midnight? How long had Harry and I been up here, leaving Liam with my mom and the spoons that decorated my kitchen, and that were in almost every drawer. Spoons were everywhere in my kitchen.
“Fine, but I’ll see you both tomorrow,” I said sleepy, and I curled myself closer to Harry as he picked me up and carried me down the stairs.
"I'll even pick you up if you want, love," he whispered in my ear. I giggled before falling asleep in his warm embrace, floating down my stairs and being tucked into my bed.
I woke up the next morning to my mom yelling up the stairs. "What the fu-" I asked but stopped when I heard my door open.
"Harry is here to get you, you have ten minutes to get ready before you guys have to go," she yelled, thinking I was upstairs.
Ten minuets?! Lazy day it is! I threw my covered off and ran up to my closet. I pulled out yoga pants, a white Northface with green cheer sweatshirt underneath and my tall brown Ugg boots. I ran the brush through my hair and put on very minimal makeup, going simple because of the allotted time, and I grabbed my bag, book for English and then ran, well more like flew, down my stairs.
As I ran down the stairs, my feet stumbled. I tripped at the last four steps. I closed my eyes as my body flung forward. I braced myself for impact, but it never came. I slowly opened my eyes and saw a black sleeve. I pulled my head up and stared into beautiful green eyes, losing myself in them. Harry’s eyes. I smiled at him and he laughed, straightening me.
“A little clumsy this morning, are we,” he laughed.
“A little tired is more like it,” I sighed, taking his hand in mine as we carefully walked down the stairs. I hadn’t had my cocoa yet and I really wanted it. “Do we have time for-”
“Your cocoa is already made, its steaming and on the counter,” Harry said, smiling and cutting me off. I smiled hugely and ran from his side to the kitchen where I happily drank over half of my scalding cocoa in thirty seconds.
“Gah! It’s hot!” I yelled as Harry walked into the kitchen. “Hot, hot, hot!”
It felt like my whole mouth was pouring lava down into my throat. I set the cup down, jumping down, using my hands to fan my tongue. Harry pointed to something else on the counter and I saw milk. I chugged the glass and instantly, my mouth and throat instantly cooling.
I took a moment before speaking, feeling myself blush furiously. I set my milk cup in the sink and grabbed my cocoa before going over to a smirking Harry. “Shut up,” I said, playfully. “It woke me up didn’t it? Now I won’t be crabby. We should go now,” I said. I was going to use this day to hang out with Kayla and just avoid Harry, Liam and Louis as much as possible. I needed a girls day, and I think it was time that Kayla knew about my dad as well. I could tell her at lunch, or in History... Or maths class. I couldn’t just tell her though. Could I? I mean, yes, she was my best friend, but could I really trust her? She’s flaked on a bunch of other secrets, telling them to someone, who would tell someone else, who would tell the entire grade. Who’s to say she won’t do it again.
Harry and I sat in comfortable silence on the way to school and I told him I was going to find Kayla. I kissed his cheek when he dropped me off at the front before going to park and I walked into school, all smiles and wide awake.
That is until I saw the commons.
Every single poster cheer had made, every single banner, announcement and food calendar was ripped off the walls. There was glass everywhere and I thought I saw a bit of blood on the floor. I saw Nina standing in the front, blocked off by what I now saw was a police line.
I went to her and saw her expression was sadness mixed with something else. “Nina, what happened? Is that blood? And where is Kayla?” I asked, looking up at the second story of the school, searching for her familiar hair.
She turned to me, her face reading nothing but sadness. “T-that is Kayla,” She said, pointing at the puddle of blood. I now noticed the foot sticking out from under a poster, the thick, heavy, iron smell of fresh blood and then I saw the police move the poster. The one Kayla and Hannah and I had made, announcing the next football game. Kayla lay there, her face blank and her hair not the brown it usually is. She was exactly the way I saw her coming back from the airport. It was black, with blue streaks, she had tattoos and piercings, and wore fishnets, a blue plaid skirt that was super short and a black top, tied right under her breasts, no tank top on underneath.
“What?” I asked, trying to deny what my own eyes saw.
“That is Kayla,” She said slowly, tears running down her face.
“No, no! No, it’s fake. This is a joke!” I said. But when I saw them lift her onto the stretcher, I saw our friendship necklace, the one I had given her in fifth grade that we both swore to wear to our graves. That was Kayla.
“NO!” I screamed, dropping to my knees, and crying my eyes out. Kayla was dead. Dead as you can be. They were putting her in a fucking body bag! She was gone, gone! “No!” I cried again.
I heard someone calling my name. I didn’t care who it was, but I couldn’t see anyone right now. I felt someone try and pull me into their side but I stood up and ran from them, tears running down my face, pushing through students, them making a clear path for me as they knew I couldn’t- wouldn’t open my eyes. I had just seen my best friend, dead on the floor, blood on her face, dressed in something she never used to be caught dead in. Who had she become?
I ran into the girls loo and shut myself in a stall. An announcement played over the PA but everything was so quiet, I could only see Kayla’s face. Pale. Bloody. Her blue eyes open, showing fear. I screamed and completely drowned out the PA system. I heard the door open and I heard heavy, boyish footsteps.
“G-go away!” I wailed to the intruder. I could hear him talking, and it sounded like two other people came in after him.
“Abby, it’s us,” said Liam.
“Come here, love,” Harry cooed and I wanted so bad to go out, to wrap myself in Harry’s arms and have him stroke my hair, and tell me it was a dream, something I saw from sleep deprivation. But I knew it wasn’t. I could feel it. This was real. And I knew I needed Louis.
“Where’s Louis?” I asked.
“Where’s Louis,” Abby cried from behind a stall door.
I had suspected that she would want Louis. After all, she had known him longest, trusted him the most, and she would want to mend things with him after what had just happened. I pushed him towards the door, and told him to talk to her.
"Abby, love it's-" he was cut off by the door being thrown open and Abby launching herself into Louis arms.
“I’m sorry, Louis! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have been mad, I’m so sorry!” she cried, and I wanted nothing more than to take his place, take her in my arms and comfort her.
Liam shook his head at me and I restrained myself from stepping forward and making her feel better. No matter how mad I was at Louis, I had to let them have this moment.
“Sh, sh, it’s okay, love. It’s not your fault. They’ve cancelled school. Harry, would you drive her home?” Louis said and I nodded.
I took Abby in my arms bridal style and carried her from the school, Liam carrying her bag and setting it in the back seat. I put her in the passenger seat, closed the door and saw Liam standing really close to me.
“What is it, mate?”
“She just saw her best friend dead.”
“Yeah, I know, that’s why I’m getting her the hell away from here.”
“And take her where? To her house, where her room is covered in pictures of the two of them? Laughing and thinking they would both live to be old women, that they would get married and have kids. Her best friend doesn’t have that dream anymore. She doesn’t have any dream anymore. Maybe Abby won’t see a point anymore....”
I realized what he was saying. “Y-you think she will try suicide?” No, Abby would never- would she? I would if I saw Liam or Louis laying how Kayla was- dead, lifeless, cold-
“It’s possible. Just, take her to your house. I’ll go talk to her mom, you just keep her away from any memories of her and Kayla for now.”
I nodded, and went around to the drivers side and climbed in the car. I looked at her and she seemed so lifeless, like she had given up, like she couldn’t go on. How could I focus on what she wanted me to when she was like this- so sad, depressed, and unmoving?
I drove and drove, stopping for gas somewhere along the highway. She didn’t talk at all really but she was crying. I pulled into a parking spot behind the gas station and pulled her into my arms.
Her hands clutched at my shirt- like I was her lifeline, like I was the only thing that would keep her going now. Her warm tears stained my shirt as they rolled down her cheeks, falling onto my chest.
“Abby, look at me,” I said quietly.
She lifted her head and I saw her the most vulnerable she had ever been. Her eyes let you read her like an open book, gaining access to her deepest most personal thoughts. “What, Harry?”
I signed, realizing how much pain she was in. It killed me, seeing Abby like this. “I know that was not anything you would ever want to see, I know this is going to be hard for you, I’m here for you. Louis is here for you. Liam is here, if you need to talk to any of us.”
She stared at me for minuets. This was making me nervous? Had I come on to strong, scared her? I mean, she didn’t really know me all that well, and she sits, in my lap, in her car, crying her eyes out because her best friend had just died.
“Harry Styles, I think I might just like you,” she finally said.