The Summer That Changed Everything



The Styles' bungalow is a special place to Bells; she's been going there every summer ever since she was a baby until she was fourteen. It was where she made new friends, where she could swim all she wanted, where she could be herself, and most of all, where she fell in love with Harry.

After two years, she's back for the summer at the bungalow as a different person; she's two years older, she has boobs now, and she's more girl like. After long and hopeless years of trying to win Harry's heart, she finally thinks she has a chance.. but what happens when four other boys are suddenly in the picture?

Torn between two, who do you choose; the one that you love, or the one that loves you?


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3. Memory At The Carnival

It was morning, and my stomach was growling.

I made my way downstairs, stopping for a moment at the living room. The place where all six boys crashed last night. My eyes landed on Harry, whose mouth was widely opened. He was sprawled out on the couch, with only a blanket covering his area. I blushed at just the thought that he probably didn’t have anything on, under the blanket.

I cleared my throat. “Um..” I said. “I’m making breakfast, if anyone wants to help, erm..” my voice trailed off, pathetically.

No one moved. I was turning around when there was a rustle and a yawn. I turned back around to see it was Zayn.

He smiled sleepily. Whilst rubbing his eyes he said, “I’ll help.”

It was obvious he was still sleepy. “No, it’s fine. I can tell you’re still tired. I’ll wake you up when the food is ready.”

“No, honest, it’s fine.” He said getting up. He only had boxers on, which were tight and small. I tried not to stare. “Liam keeps stealing my side of the blanket, anyway. Plus, I’ve been up for like, an hour. Harry snores really loudly.”

I laughed. “Yeah, he really does.” I said, walking to the kitchen, Zayn trailing behind me.

 




“So, Bells,” Zayn said, as he was pouring the pancake mix onto the griddle. “How old are you?”

I was at the fridge, getting the eggs. I turned around and looked at him. My eyes slipped down to his chest. He was very toned. And the tattoo didn’t help me from drooling. “Sixteen. How do you want your eggs cooked?”

“Scrambled, please.” He smiled. “How long have you liked Harry?”

I coughed, suddenly. I gasped for breath, “wh-what?”

Zayn laughed, and flipped a-half-done-pancake. He didn’t respond right away. He just stood there looking at the pancake, with the spatula in his right hand. He looked up after what felt like ten years. “It’s pretty obvious, you know.”

“Isn’t it always?” I whined. I walked over to the pan, and cracked four eggs into it. I began to mix them, creating beautiful scrambled eggs.

Joking. They probably tasted like poison.

“Not to the other boys. They’re clueless. Except Harry, though. He knows. He talks about you a lot. Even before last night.” He poured more mix, creating another pancake. He had already made over ten. They were all perfect circles, and slightly golden.

“Wow, you’re a good cook.” I said, nodding at his pancakes. He shrugged, and said something about how he grew up with three sisters, and it was essential how to make a pancake. “What does Harry say?” I tried not to sound too interested.

“How basically you’d do anything for him.” He laughed. My cheeks turned bright red. “How long have you liked him, anyway?”

“Since I was about eight,” I sighed.

He let out a low whistle.

I shrugged. I hated telling people how long I’ve liked Harry, only because it was pathetic. Seven years of liking someone was absolutely ridiculous. I’d always get asked, “doesn’t it get boring? You only see him in the summer.” But that’s the thing; my whole life was only measured in summers. It was as if winter, fall and spring didn’t count. I would be sitting in my media class, back in Aberdeen, counting the days until summer. The only thing that mattered was Summer. It was like I don’t really begin living until I was on my way to Holmes Chapel.

Once Summer was over, I would go back to school, and all the events that happened during summer would keep me going. All the laughs with Gemma, all the sneaky glances from Harry (even though they meant nothing), all the times I went swimming in the pool, the stupid fights I had with Harry and Jack. All of the memories would keep me going until next Summer. I had to be honest, the past two years have been tough, since I hadn’t gone to Holmes Chapel. I almost gave up.

“So then, have you had your first kiss?” Zayn asked, randomly. He was looking at me.

I looked black. I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

I laughed, nervously. “Yes. I’m not gonna hang around and just not kiss anyone because of him, you know.”

That was a semi-lie. I did hang around, hoping my first kiss was going to be with Harry. After awhile though, I gave up on that dream.

“With who, then?”

This made me even more nervous. “My boyfriend at the time.” Zayn laughed, and playfully bumped my hip with his own. I copied him, and laughed. I then remembered that he was only in his boxers. I blushed.

“So, you like Harry, but you still had a boyfriend?” He questioned.

I opened the bread, and popped in a few slices into the toaster. I got a new griddle out, and began to lay the bacon on it. It began to sizzle. I ignored his question. “Anyway, my first kiss was with my boyfriend at the time. We dated for about five months. This was about, um, last year, kinda?”

“I didn’t know you had your first kiss, Belly. Much less a boyfriend?”

I turned around, completely horrified. It was Harry, and he was standing by the table in only boxers. His expression was unreadable; his lips were in a thin line and his eyes looked everywhere but me.

“You don’t know a lot of things about me,” I simpily said.

It was true. If you asked Harry what my favorite color was he wouldn’t know. He also wouldn’t know what my favorite food was, or anything. He was always too up himself to even care about me.

I’m not calling a Harry conceited or full of himself. He cares about a lot of things. He just doesn’t have the time for me, in particular. 

He walked over to Zayn and I, and grabbed some plates. He walked back to the table and placed all the plates and silverware in their spots. “I beg to differ.”

I rolled my eyes, “right.”

“I’ll wake up the rest of the boys,” Zayn said, leaving me and Harry all alone.

Remind me to kill him later.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were dating someone?” Harry asked.

“I was. We broke up.”

“Oh. Why?”

You.

“It became more like a routine, than an actual relationship.” I lied.

Harry looked at me, as though he was trying to figure something out. I stared back, without an expression on my face. I didn’t want to give in. I wanted to show him that I was more than just a girl who had a crush on him. I wanted to show him that even though I still liked him, I hated him.

If that even made sense.

To me it does, okay?

He opened his mouth to say something but then Niall walked in. All the food and plates were already on the table when he walked into the kitchen, shirtless. “Mooooorning,” he said. He still sounded tired. “I smelled food.”

“More like Zayn went and woke you up, idiot.” Harry said, as he walked to the fridge.

I was already sat down, eating my nutella covered pancake, “help yourself. But I do warn you, I cooked it. It might be poisonous. Jack doesn’t trust my cooking.”

He smiled. “Food is food. I’ll eat anything.”

Zayn walked in again, “don’t take all the credit, Bells. I cooked some of it too.”

And with that, Niall sat down next to me and stacked five pancakes on his plate. I raised my eyebrow at him and he just grinned sheepishly. I laughed and continued to eat my pancake. It was amazing how I had only been here for a day, not even, and I was getting along with the boys so well. They really were just normal boys.

We were eating in silence until the other boys started to get up. One by one, they all came in the kitchen and sat down at the table. Harry finally sat down, across from me. He looked at me intensely. I looked away. I was already trying to forget about our moment we had only ten minutes ago.

He grabbed a piece of bacon and popped it into his mouth. “That’s my shirt, you know.”

I blushed. “It was in Gemma’s drawer. Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“No it’s fine, it looks good on you.” He smiled. Once he smiled at me, everything was gone. I wasn’t mad at him anymore. He smiled at me, and that smile.. He just gets me. His smile did it every time.

“Harry, stop flirting with Bells.” Jack said, his face in disgust.

“I wasn’t flirting with her. I’d never flirt with her. She’s Bells.” Harry said, looking away. He grabbed a pancake.

Of course, Harry. I’m just Bells. Jack’s little sister. I looked down, trying to hide my disappointment. I occupied myself by grabbing some toast. I wanted grape jelly to spread on my piece of toast, but it was next to Zayn.

“Zayn,” I said, trying not to blush. “Can you pass me the jelly, please?”

He grabbed the jelly that was in front of him, handed it to me, and smiled. “Here ya go, Bells.” 

My fingers brushed his when I went to grab it, causing my cheeks to turn a slight shade of pink. Which only made him grin even more. I smiled back and giggled.

I hated giggling. It was girly and annoying. But it just happened; Zayn made me feel weird.

In a good way of course.

Harry coughed, causing me and Zayn to look away from each other. I brushed my hair away from my eyes. Trying to look at something other than Harry. Harry looked at Zayn and raised his eyebrows. “Remember what I said last night.”

What?

“Um,” I mumbled.

Before Harry could reply, (he wasn’t going to explain anyway, he was probably going to change the subject), Louis yelled, “so, Bells! The boys and I are going to the carnival later, wanna come with?”

I was about to answer when Jack groaned, “ugh, no! She’s annoying. Harry and I never let her come with us to places. It’ like, tradition.”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” I pouted. “Gemma’s not here, so I don’t have anyone to hang out with.”

“I think she should come with,” Liam said, buttering his toast. “It gets annoying, you know? Having so many boys around. It’s nice to hang out with a girl, every once in awhile.”

I threw my hands up in the air, and fist pumped. I looked over to Jack, and he looked defeated. I grinned.

“So, who’s idea was the carnival, anyway? We usually don’t go until July. It’s better at that time.” I said, my mouth full of eggs and bacon.

Niall laughed, “you’re like a girl version of me.”

I smiled. Because it was kinda true.

“It was Harry’s.” Louis said.

I coughed on my eggs and bacon, and laughed. “Still fancy that girl, yeah?”

For a moment, I could’ve sworn Harry blushed. “I never fancied her.”

I scoffed, “lies!”

“The girl at the ring toss?” Jack said.

I turned to him and smirked, “that’s the one.”

“I never fancied her,” Harry protested.

“Shut up, you so did.” I pointed my finger at him. All the other boys, besides Jack, had a look of pure confusion on their faces. I filled them in. “Harry liked his girl who worked at the ring toss.” Before Harry could protest even more, I kicked him under the table. He groaned, and I sniggered. “Don’t believe what he says. He did like her.”

“Sounds like story time,” Zayn said, leaning back on his chair, throwing his hands behind his head.

Harry groaned again, covering his face with his hands. He shook his head.

“Okay!” I said happily. “Get cozy, it’s a long story.” I drank some orange juice. “It happened when I was twelve. Harry was fourteen.”

Harry removed his hands from his face. He looked at me, weirdly. “How do you even remember that?”

I blushed. “Um,” I shrugged, “it’s just one of things you remember, you know? I remember everything by age and year.”

I didn’t completely lie. I did remember a lot of things by what age I was. But that’s not why I remembered this. I remember it because it was the first time Harry made me cry. Well, he’s made me cry a lot of times before this, but it was stupid things, like I couldn’t go to the movies with Jack and him. But this time, it was the first time I hated him.

I wasn’t going to tell them what happened fully. Not the version that would make me embarrassed. If I told them that version, Harry would laugh. I know he would.

 

 

Age 12



I was twelve when I first got my heart broken. Harry was fourteen.

Everyone was at the bungalow that night, which was weird because everyone is usually out doing something. But not that night. Gemma and Jack were sick with the flu; Harry had dared them two night before, to jump in the pool and take a swim at three o’clock in the morning. That usually wouldn’t be a problem, but that was the coldest summer we’ve ever had before.

Harry and I couldn’t see Gemma and Jack; our mums didn’t want us to get sick, so they prohibited us seeing them. If I didn’t hang out with Gemma, or see Jack, that usually meant I didn’t see Harry at all.

Harry and I were never the ones to hang out. We got along pretty well, but that was it. He’d never asked me to hang out with him and Jack. I’d be the one asking. Which would get pretty annoying. But they rarely ever did let me hang out with them, anyway.

The bungalow was boring that night; it was never boring. There was nothing to do. It was quiet. It was so quiet I wondered how there were other people there. I hadn’t seen Harry all day, and it was five in the afternoon.

I was reading a book I found in Anne’s room. I was laying on my bed, with my feet on the wall, and my head on the edge of the bed. I couldn’t concentrate on the words; I was too busy wondering where Harry was all day.

As if on cue, Harry walked past my room, (I left the door open, just in case he walked by, so he could see me), and stopped at my doorway. I pretended not to notice, but I could feel my cheeks flush.

“Belly, what are you doing tonight?” Harry asked, coming in my room. I finally decided to acknowledge him, so I put my book down and sat up. I looked at him. It was the summer he decided to let his hair grow a bit longer. The ends of his hair were curly, which only caused me like him even more.

Oh, I thought, like I actually have plans.

It took me awhile to respond. I wanted him to wait. I also wanted him to think I actually had something to do. “I don’t know,” I said. “I told Anne I would watch Titanic with her.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Titanic was on that night; but I never told her I would watch it with her.

“Well, you should come to the carnival with me.”

I picked up my book again, and brought it to my eyes. I tried not to sound too excited when I said, “maybe.. I’ve been craving a funnel cake, since like, yesterday.”

“I’ll buy you one. Just be ready in five minutes, okay? Our mums can drop us off.”

“Okay,” I squeaked out, as he walked out of my room.

I jumped out of my bed, and rushed to the mirror. I took out the braids Anne had done on me earlier, and ran my fingers through them, creating loose waves. I stared in the mirror. He was asking me to go to the carnival, because he wanted to go with me. I smiled as I grabbed my strawberry lip gloss. I spread it over my lips, smacking them together. I slid the tube into the front pocket of my shorts. For later, when I need to reapply, I thought.

On the car ride there, Anne kept giving me sneaky glances in the rearview mirror. She kept smiling at me, like she knew. I gave a her a look like, oh, please just stop, Anne. Quit it, please-But I wanted to smile back. I didn’t want Harry to notice though. But he wasn’t paying attention at all, anyway. He was looking out the window the whole ride there. Once we got there, my mum said, “have fun kids. I‘ll pick you guys up at ten. Be ready.”

Harry and I walked around a bit, every now and then, a friend of his would come around and say hello. He’d talk to them, and I’d just stand there, feeling awkward. I didn’t know what to do; Harry was so popular and funny, whilst I was just.. Me.

After about ten minutes, we walked to the food stands. I let my arm hang loose, just in case. But he didn’t reach for it. He never did.

Like I said, I was craving a funnel cake since the day before, and Harry bought me one. I told him thanks, and he smiled at me. The familiar butterfly feeling came back in my stomach. The man behind the counter handed me my small funnel cake, and Harry ordered a caramel apple for himself.

We walked towards the benches and sat down, and we sat in silence for a few moments. I watched him secretly, admiring everything about him. How he asked me to go to the carnival with him. How he bought me some funnel cake, and smiled at me. It was all there- he liked me too, I thought.

“Want some of my funnel cake?” I asked him, licking some of the white sugar powder off my fingers.

“Sure,” he looked at me and smiled again. He tore a piece of the fluffy cake off, and popped it into his mouth. He then asked me if I wanted a piece of his apple. I nodded, and he handed it to me. I carefully and slowly bit into it, trying my best not to get the caramel stuck in my teeth; how would he kiss me then?

I felt a smile creep on my lips; we were sharing food. This was what couples did.

After we finished our food, he said, “let’s go to the ring toss.”

Waves hit my stomach and I couldn’t help but to smile more; he wanted to win me a stuffed animal! I knew which one I’d pick too- the large monkey that had the banana in his left hand. I had been eyeing it the whole entire summer. Monkeys were my favorite animal that summer. Everyone knew that. Maybe even Harry.

I couldn’t wait until it was in my hands. I also couldn’t wait until I could show it off to everyone back home to my friends, who knew I was madly in love with Harry.

Oh that? Harry Styles won it for me.

We walked towards the ring toss, and Harry seemed nervous. Why? I didn’t know. Maybe he was nervous to kiss me, I thought. Which, of course, only made me nervous. Harry started to walk fast, talking long strides, and I had to walk super fast to keep up with him. He didn’t even glance at me. I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I tried to make a conversation with him, I couldn’t be able to tell you of what, to be exact. Only because I don’t remember. I don’t remember because I was too busy holding back the tears once I noticed Harry wasn’t paying attention to a single word I was saying.

He was watching a girl who worked at the ring toss.

She was probably fifteen. Maybe even sixteen. She was tall; her legs were long and skinny. Her skin was tanned and she had long brown hair that swept past her shoulders, and stopped right above her elbows. She had freckles like me, but she wore them like they were jewelry. They looked pretty on her.

My stomach churned, when I realized everything.

Harry didn’t take me to the carnival because he wanted to be with me. He wanted to go- he came for her. He only brought me because I was clueless. Jack and Gemma were at the bungalow sick; this was the perfect opportunity. If Harry brought Jack and Gemma, he knew that he would never hear the end of it. He only brought me because he didn’t want to come alone. That was it. The whole reason.

I could see it when he looked at her. The way he almost lost his breath by just looking at her.

Exactly the way I lost my breath by looking at him.

“Do you like her?” I whispered. I didn’t want to say it in my normal tone. Not because we were really close to the ring toss, and the girl was right by us. But because if I said anything louder, I would’ve cried.

“Huh? Oh.” Was all he said. He looked at me, surprised. He had forgotten I was there. “I don’t even know her.”

I knew he was lying. He did like her, the whole summer he liked her. I realized that the second he said that. The whole summer, he always wanted to be at the carnival. We went the first couple of times he asked, but after that, we didn’t go. It was getting boring, Jack said. Harry still begged. And now I knew why.

“Do you want to know her?” I eged. I wanted him to say no; I wanted him to say no more than anything. I just wanted him to prove me wrong, that I was wrong about him only taking me because he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. That he didn’t want to come because of her, but because he wanted to be with me. I looked at him, waiting for an answer.

“Er-,” He looked away from me. He looked at her. “Yes.”

I could feel my heart snap in two; I wondered if this was what heart break felt like. I covered it up though. I grabbed his hand and walked right up to her. I quickly dropped his hand, once I realized what I was doing. I didn’t want to hold his hand like that. I wanted to hold his because he wanted me to, because he felt butterflies in his stomach like I did whenever I saw him.

“How many rings?” She smiled. I noticed she had bright blue eyes, which made her even prettier. And made me only uglier.

“Three, please.” I flashed a fake smile. I elbowed Harry in the stomach, mentally telling him to talk.

“You have pretty eyes,” he said. “I like blue eyes.”

He was back again, being his cocky self.

My heart broke even more when she played along. “I like green eyes.”

Harry had green eyes. They were flirting, and I didn’t know how long I could take this. My eyes glanced over to Harry. He blushed at what she said. He blushed. I had never seen him blush before, in my whole life. I also had a feeling it would probably be the last time. My stomach churned once more. I needed to get out of there. “Haz, I’m gonna go ride the carasoul before we leave. Mum said she would pick us up at ten. It’s a quarter till. Win me something, ‘kay?”

Before Harry would say anything, I turned around and walked away. Once I knew I was out of eyesight I broke into a run. I didn’t want them, especially Harry, to see me cry. I sat on the bench by the carasoul and cried. I was so stupid and naïve. Had I actually thought Harry wanted to go to the carnival with me? How ridiculous could I get?

In the car ride, I learned that the girl’s name was Aburey. She was about to turn sixteen. Harry told me she was really funny, and I would’ve liked her. He ended up winning the monkey I wanted, the one with the banana in it’s hand. He said Aburey told him it was the best prize they had. I told him I rather have the turtle, it was better, but thanks anyway. My mum drove us home, in silence and I was thankful. I don’t think she knew something was wrong, but I think it was better that way.

Once we got to the bungalow, Anne ran up to me and asked me how it went. I just shrugged and stalked off, not bothering to look back at her. She understood, and told me she’d talk to Harry. I told her not to. There was nothing to say; I had just gotten my hopes up too high.

I named the monkey Harry got me, Snuffs. I left him every summer where he belonged, at the bungalow.

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