Baby Lips

Harry Styles was used to getting what he wanted. But that seemed to change when Scarlett McVay crashed into his life... literally.

Harry wants the one girl that doesn't want him back, and he'll do anything to have her.

Winning what you want might mean losing something you need.

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2. Two

That phone sat on my table staring at me. Giving me every sort of evil eye you could imagine. Mocking me. Reminding me of that I was a total embarrassment to the human race. 
 
How could I be so clumsy? So stupid? I thought as I heard the light patter of my cat, Newton’s, paws hit the wood floors of my flat and bound up into my lap. His orange fur immediately soothed my nerves as I ran my bony fingers through it. 
 
The flashing lights coming from the TV playing in the room next to me caught my attention. My eyes fixated on the news anchor who began to speak, but the volume was too low that I couldn’t make out what the well-dressed woman was saying. The camera cut to a crowd of screaming girls. 
 
Wait. That looked all too familiar. My eyes widened as I realized it was the same crowd from earlier. I scooped up Newton’s chubby body and sprinted to the couch where I sat immediately and cranked the volume loud enough to me to hear it. My eyebrows knit together as I listened intently. 
 
“Girls were seen and definitely heard all through out downtown Oxford today when the popular boy band One Direction made an appearance on a radio program.” The anchor spoke as clips of five boys began to shuffle past my eyes at lightening speed. But when a certain curly headed fellow flashed on the screen my breathing hitched and I clamped down on Newton causing him to hiss and leap off of me.  
 
That’s when it hit me. 
 
That boy wasn’t just some random douche bag that was trying to get girls in the middle of a screaming crowd of them. That boy wasn’t just some random sexy douche bag that knocked me over. That boy was Harry Styles. And those boys he yelled too, that was One Direction. 
 
My hand collided with my forehead with a loud smack as my lips parted. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the screen. I couldn’t blink. I couldn’t listen. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. 
 
“How could I be so ignorant?” I whispered to myself. “How did I not recognize that face?” I swallowed although my mouth seemed as dry as a dessert. I reached out for the glass of water that sat on my coffee table and chugged the rest of it, trying to keep my mind busy from the white piece of technology that was haunting me from the table to my right.  
 
I snatched the phone, staring at it for a minute before knitting my eyebrows together in a fit of growing determination and pressed the center button lightly with my thumb. The same drunk boy, with the same drunk middle finger popped up and I slid the unlock button. I was surprised that it didn’t have a password lock on it.  
 
I know if I were a pop star, I would set a lock. Don’t want your phone falling in the wrong hands... 
 

Dozens of apps and flew in from either side of the iPhone. I blinked a few times fighting off the urge to go through everything on that device. Write down numbers, read text messages, start a blog about dirty gossip I found on Harry Styles’ phone, my grip tightened as I made my way to the phone and dialed my own cell phone number. Hoping that he would have it on him. 
 
Maybe he was doing the same thing. Staring at it. Wondering if he should call or wait. I bit my lip anxiously as I heard the first ring. My stomach churned at the second and I lost my breath once I heard someone answer on the other line. 
 
“I’ve been waiting for you to call, Scarlett.” A low, accented voice filled my ears. I opened my mouth to speak, but was too creeped out. He said my name, I don’t remember ever telling him my name in the brief time we had together. 
 
“H-how do you know my name?” I stammered into the phone, feeling my palms become more slick with sweat each passing second. I heard a light chuckle, followed by a series of laughs. I was definitely on speaker phone. 
 
“There are a lot of things you can find out about someone by going through their cell phone.” He said in between a laugh. “And besides, I’m sure you know my name.” My hazel eyes rolled and I was mentally cursing myself for not starting that blog about the skeletons in his closet. 
 
“Look, I would just like my phone back.” I said, changing my tone. I wasn’t interested in playing games. I just wanted my iPhone. It was like I was naked with out it.  
 
“Ouch, someone is a little pissy.” He joked again, another series of laughs accompanied his. My jaw clenched, but before I could snap back he spoke again. “Look, Scarlett baby, we have another radio interview around five o’clock. Stop by the studio and we’ll trade phones then.” My jaw relaxed and I nodded before speaking to him. 

“Alright, which studio should I head to?” I asked quickly. 
 
“Heart Radio. Five o’clock. Don’t be late, love.” I disregarded his comment. “And by the way, you have some lovely pictures on here of you in a tiny bikini. We all agree that it suits you well.” He laughed and ended the call before I had enough time to scold him for saying so. 
 
I huffed and tossed the phone on the mound of pillows next to me. Not caring for one second that it was Harry Styles’ and it was in my possession. I was not going to stoop as low as him and snoop through his personal life. I was not like that. I am not that kind of girl. 
 
But he went through mine, why can’t I go through his? I thought quickly before shaking my head vigorously, hoping it the thoughts would fly off me like water on a shaggy dog.  
 
I scooped the large pile of homework sheets that had been sitting on my coffee table for awhile and decided calculus would take my mind off my technology troubles. 
 
I was currently studying mathematics at Oxford University. I lived in a town outside Los Angeles, California my whole life until one day my dad decided to cheat on my mother with a blond slut who was trying to get an acting gig. And as expected, my parents got a divorce I was forced to from L.A. to New York City with my father and his God awful girl friend.  
 
My life was flipped upside down and instead of joining a social group of friends at my new school, I spent my nights studying and doing extra credit projects. And when my senior year rolled around and one of the best schools across the pond had sent me a fat check just to join their math program, my father didn’t even let me object to that school. 
 
Even if math wasn’t my first real ambition. 
 
I had started dancing when I was just three-years-old because it was something my mother wanted me to do. For awhile I hated it, loathed it, and wanted nothing to do with it. But once I got older and took more difficult classes, I began to fall in love. In love with ballet. 
 
It was time consuming and caused me great pain at times, but it was all worth it. Worth feeling the rush of a great performance, hearing the audience hop to their feet just to cheer for you, just feel that beautiful and graceful for once in your life. 
 
That is what I wanted to be doing with my life. That is what I could be doing with my life. But instead, I’m sitting in a two room flat, studying what most people consider the worst subject of them all, in a different country, hell in a whole different time zone. With a pop star’s phone right next to me. 
 
My head snapped up, searching for the clock that was hung on the wall above my TV. I tossed my books off me as I saw the time. Half past four. I should’ve left thirty minutes ago if I wanted to be there on time.  
 
I scrambled as I threw on a grey sweater and my pea coat overtop. My hair was a mess, so I tangled in it a loose braid and shoved my yellow beanie on top of my head. I grabbed my purse and Harry’s phone and was quickly out the door. 

 
But as I sprinted down the steps of my apartment building, something dawned on me. Why did I have to please him by making that interview on time? Why did my life revolve around his all the sudden? I stopped in the middle of the steps to slowly apply lip balm. I took out my sloppy braid and finger combed my hair. I placed the beanie back on my head until it was sagged perfectly. 
 
I strolled down the steps this time. Pointing my toe in my boots each time I bounded to a new stair. When I finally made it to the street, I looked to the right. The direction I would go if I was to be there on time.  
 
But, I knew a longer way through downtown.  
 
See ya soon, Styles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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