Chapter Two


Of course, because my life sucked, my mum called Anne and agreed to go for dinner the next morning.

And I was bitter about it.

I knew I shouldn't have been; Anne was just being polite and being a good friend to my mum. But it was the fact that Harry Styles, my bully for four years, grew up in that house. That house made me feel uncomfortable and nervous, and now I would have to be chumming about in it.

"I don't get why you're being so dramatic about this," I could practically see Kate rolling her eyes. "It's not like Harry's going to be there."

"You're right," I sighed into the phone. I glanced at the clock, which read three-thirty in the afternoon. "I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Sure thing, babes. Love you!"

"Love you too," I said, hanging up the phone.

I ran a straightener through my long, copper hair, making it perfectly straight. I applied some powder and mascara, not bothering with too much makeup. I slathered on some Chapstick and walked over to my closet.

Not really caring about what I wore, I threw on some dark jeans and a white collared blouse, tucking it in to my jeans. I put on a braided belt and slipped into my white crochet TOMS to finish the outfit.

Walking out of my room, I grabbed my iPhone and slipped it into my back pocket before making my way towards the front door.

"You look lovely, dear," my mum smiled, leading me towards her car. My sister sat next to me in the back of the car while my dad was waiting in the passenger seat. It took us about one minute to drive to the Styles' home due to the close proximity of our houses.

When we arrived, I followed my family slowly to their front door. Kate had texted me 'good luck' and I suddenly felt as if I would need it.

"Hello!" Anne greeted is all warmly, letting us in the house. My mum and Anne went to go talk in the kitchen, my dad and Robin went go watch the television and my sister had gone to talk to Gemma.

Which left me. Alone.

I wandered over to a wall that had at least fifty photo frames clung to it. They all contained pictures of Gemma and Harry, at different ages, with different expressions. I smiled at their cheesy, toothy grins, before realizing that one of them used to make my life hell.

My smile faded into a frown in mere seconds. I quickly walked over to the kitchen, where Anne and my mum were preparing food.

"Can I be of any help?" I asked Anne politely, not wanting to be rude.

"Sure, would you mind cutting the celery into small pieces?" Anne asked sweetly, pointing towards the cutting board. I chopped the celery in silence as my mum and Anne talked about some book they were both reading.

"Wow," Anne came over to me with a smile when I was finished, looking at the celery pieces.

"Are they too large? Or too small?" I asked timidly, not wanting to ruin her meal plans.

"No, it's just that you cut them faster than Harry ever did, and he was always the quickest."

"Harry cooked?" I asked in disbelief.

Anne nodded, a fond look playing on her face. "Very well, actually."

I widened my eyes in surprise; I never knew he could do anything except bully. And sing. "Oh."

"Anyways," she took the celery from me and stirred the small pieces into the pot, "would you do me a favor?"

"Sure," I shrugged.

"Can you go upstairs and get me a book? I want to show it to your mum. It should be on my night stand, first room on the left."

I walked up the stairs and blanked, not remembering where she said the room was. I tried the right side of the hallway first. The first room on the right was Gemma's bedroom; I could hear her and Julie talking through the wooden door. Next was a bathroom and what I assumed was a guest bedroom. I walked to the left side of the hallway, and into the second room on the left.

I opened the door to a bedroom that was painted a navy blue color. The bed was made and the room looked like it hadn't been used in quite some time.

It was Harry's room.

My first instinct was to shut the door and get out of there quickly, but curiosity got the best of me. What did a bully's room look like?

I walked in, shutting to door behind me. Everything was nice and orderly, which made sense considering Harry was almost never home.

I walked over to his desk and pulled open some drawers, just to see what he had stored in them. My English teacher once told me that shoes don’t tell anything about a person; their work desk contents do. The first drawer had writing utensils, the next had lined paper. But the third drawer caught my eye.

It had a single envelope inside of it, just laying there by itself.

I bit my lip. I knew I should've just left it alone, but I couldn't. My inner curious-kid came out, and I couldn't stop it. I carefully opened the envelope, and a piece of paper fell to my feet. I unfolded it cautiously, as if it was going to disintegrate into ashes if I were to unfold it too quickly.

I scanned my eyes over the piece of paper, reading Harry’s neat handwriting. The letter read;

Dear whoever is reading this,



Mum, I’m going to assume you’re the one who will find this first. Who else would be in my desk drawers?

Tomorrow I’m leaving. I’m auditioning for X Factor. I may come home with bad results. Maybe the judges would dislike my voice. If that’s the case, I’ll probably be mortified to even show my face around here. Or anywhere.

But what if they do like my voice? What if I make it big? Could you imagine it? An album…Harry Styles written across the spine of it, with some catchy album name. Maybe a black and white portrait of me, with some serious look etched on my face.

This letter isn’t about me, though. Well, in a way it is. But it’s not about my future. It’s about my past.

I have so many things I’m sorry for, mum. You and Robin make me out to be this great son, who does no wrong. That’s not the case though. I’ve done things…horrible things.

I need a favor from you, mum. Do you remember that girl, Evelyn Henderson? She’s your friend Kathy’s daughter. If you ever see her, promise me you’ll apologize to her. Promise me you’ll apologize to Evie. I can’t tell you why you need to apologize. Maybe someday I will tell you why, but not any time soon. It still pains me to even think about it.

I hope I do well on the competition. I need to get away from this life, and start a new one. I need to let go of my guilt and regret.

I hope someday that girl will forgive me.








Your son,









Harry Styles



I sat there, reading the letter over a few times. There's no way--no possible way--that this is real. I pinched my arm, trying to wake myself up from this dream...or perhaps it seemed like a nightmare.

I couldn't tell the difference any more.

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs all of a sudden. "Evie? Did you find the book?”

I quickly folded the piece of paper and put it back into the envelope, shoving it into my pocket.
I walked out of Harry's room and saw Anne standing in the hallway, smiling. "Got lost?"

"A bit," I chucked nervously, trying not to seem guilty.

"No worries," Anne waved her hand in dismissal. "You go down to the dining table; I'll fetch the book for your mum."

I did as I was told, and soon everyone else was sitting down in the dining room as well. I was across from the four adults and next to Julie and Gemma.

Anne and my mum had prepared a wide array of foods, from lasagna to steak to salad. Just looking at all of it made my mouth water, not to mention the smell of the foods.

"Dig in!" Anne clapped, and soon enough plates were being handed around.

I almost didn't believe I was here. Harry Styles had bullied me for four years, calling me ugly names that left me insecure. And here I was, sitting in his childhood home, eating food with his family. It seemed a bit bizarre.

I was the only one who felt that way, obviously. Conversation flowed nicely at the table, as if we all sat down and ate together on a weekly basis. My dad and Robin got on really well, as well as the two mothers. Gemma and Julie reminisced on the old days, and I just sat quietly. Throughout the whole dinner, I couldn’t get my mind off of the letter, which was still nesting in the pocket of my jeans. Had Anne seen the letter? I assumed not, considering she had never apologized to me.

A loud thump came from the foyer, causing everyone to stop talking and me to stop obsessing over the letter. Anne jumped out of her seat, looking excited. She ran out of the dining room in a flurry, and I heard her squeal with delight. Robin and Gemma were sat smiling, and my family and I were as confused as ever.

A few minutes later, Anne re-entered the room. "Is everything okay?" I asked her quietly.

Before she could answer, a deep voice cut in. "Sorry I’m late." I snapped my attention towards the voice's owner.

Someone who I thought I would never see again in a million years. And apparently, someone who wanted me to forgive him.

Harry Styles.

Chapter Three


I sat in my seat, gaping at him. Harry Styles was standing five feet away from me. And he was staring at me.

I quickly averted my eyes away from him and stared at my food, as if the lettuce lying on my plate was the most fascinating in the world. I didn't know if I was angry that Harry was present or upset; I suppose it was a mixture of both.

He sat down in the only seat available at the table—which, of course, was conveniently located right next to me. Everyone's moods seemed to buzz on his arrival, asking him questions. He answered everyone politely, although he didn't look very happy. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance at me several times.

The letter in my pocket felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds. I wanted to badly to talk to Anne about it, to see if she knew about it. What I really needed was to get out of there. It felt as if I was underwater, barely able to breathe. "This has been lovely," I stood up after almost two hours of torture, "but I must be going."

"Sweetie, what do you mean?" My mum gave me a quizzical look.

"I have to go pick up some homework from Kate," I lied.

"It's eight o' clock at night," my dad pointed out, obviously not believing me.

"I should have been earlier…I lost track of time," I shrugged, praying they would just let me go.

"Harry, go with her," Anne said, making my head practically spin.

"No!" I shrieked, causing everyone to look at me. "I'm mean, uh...I'll be fine. I wouldn’t want to bother him after his long travel."

"Nonsense," Anne waved her hand. "I don't want you walking alone at night. Plus, you two were friends. Go catch up!"

I took a deep breath, willing myself to stay strong. I couldn’t cry; not in front of everyone. Or anyone.

Before I could protest any further, Harry was out of his seat and next to me. I bit my bottom lip nervously, saying goodbye to the group of people, who quickly went back to talking and eating. As I quickly walked out of the front door, I felt Harry right behind me.

We walked a few minutes in silence, me still ahead of him. I started to wonder if maybe he had forgotten who I was, and wondered if he remembered anything before his fame happened.

But I was wrong. Because quietly, Harry finally spoke to me. "Evie.” I didn’t answer him. I shook my head, continuing to walk. “Evie,” he repeated.

"What?" I spun around to face him. “What do you want?”

“Can we just talk? I have so many things I want to say.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Okay, talk.” I stood, arms crossed, giving him a death stare.

His eyes glistened in the moonlight, and his chocolate curls lay perfectly across his forehead. And if I didn't hate him, I would've thought he looked extraordinarily cute. "I'm sorry."

Those two words made something click inside of me. Maybe it was because I had waited so long for him to spit them out. Maybe I was just PMSing. Either way, anger flared up in me. All of the sudden, I wasn't scared of Harry Styles, or even intimidated by him.

The only thing I felt towards him was hatred.

"You're sorry? Sorry for what exactly?" I raged.

"For--"

I cut him off, "For making my life miserable for four years? For making me want to kill myself?"

Harry looked as if he was going to puke; all of the color drained from his face. "Y-you...you wanted to kill yourself? Because of me?"

"No, Harry," I laughed darkly. "I wanted to live every second of my life while you tortured me and called me names." I shook my head, feeling tears well up behind my eyelids. I turned away from him and continued walking. He wouldn't see me cry; I wouldn't show him any signs of weakness. Not anymore.

"I didn't realize it was that bad," his voice was next to me again. "I didn't realize I had made you feel that bad."

"How could you have not realized?!" I asked him incredulously. "Did you not see these?" I slid my bracelets up my arm and showed him my scars. My old scars from cutting myself, which I had done to relieve the pain he had caused me.

Harry looked as if someone had slapped him in the face; his hands flew to his mouth as he realized what he had done. "I-I," he gulped, searching my brown eyes with his green ones. "I never meant to hurt you Evelyn."

"You never meant to hurt me?” I laughed darkly, “That’s a good one. Because bullying me for several years entails that you ‘didn’t mean to hurt me’.”

Harry stood, frozen in place. "Look," he said after he composed himself. "What I did to you was awful. Unforgivable, even. I was just a kid, though. I honestly didn't realize I hurt you so much."

"Well now that we're older," I said calmly. "I would like you to get the f*** away from me and never talk to me again." And with those last words, I turned my heel and walked away from him, tears streaming down my cheeks.
------------

"Holy. S***." Kate's mouth hung open after I told her everything that had happened. I couldn’t bring myself to tell her about the letter, though. For some odd reason, I wanted to keep it a secret. It made it more…special that way. "I can't believe it."

"Well, believe it," I tried to smile but failed miserably.

"Are you okay?" She asked me, worry flashing across her light blue eyes.

"Surprisingly, yes," I nodded. "It felt good to get it all out of my system."

"Well," Kate studied my face to see if I was lying, "do you want to stay here tonight? We could eat ice cream and watch bad 80s movies?"

"As tempting as that sounds," I laughed, "I think I'm just going to go home."

"Alright," Kate nodded, giving me a hug. "If you need anything, just call. I'll see you tomorrow.” I gave her a quick departure hug and walked home, trying to clear my head.

As I approached my house, I saw that it was only nine o'clock; everyone else was still at the Styles'. I unlocked the front door and went up to my room. I took the letter out of my jeans pocket and shoved it into my desk drawer. I took a deep breath, peeling my clothes off and jumping into bed.

And for the first time in three years, I fell asleep thinking of the curly haired, Cheshire boy.

Chapter Four


"Did you really think I would stop bullying you? Did you really think I would feel bad for you?" Harry snarled, laughing darkly. "You're pathetic, Evelyn Henderson. You deserve to die."

"But you apologized, you--"

"I lied Evie," Harry shook his head. "I would've thought you knew that by now."

“You don’t mean it, Harry,” I said firmly. “I saw the letter. You don’t mean it.”

His eyes seemed to darken without taking on a new color. “You read the letter?”

I nodded, gulping. Harry took a few steps towards me and raised his hand. In the past, Harry had never physically assaulted me. Maybe he had changed; maybe he was worse now.

Before his hand stuck my cheek, my body jolted awake. My eyes were watery, my heart was racing, and my palms were sweaty.

It was just a dream, I told myself, trying to calm down. Just a stupid, silly dream.

I glanced at the clock and saw that it was six in the morning. Way too early to start the day, but I knew I wouldn't be able to go back to bed. I decided to go for a quick run to the park. I threw on some leggings and a loose tee shirt and slipped into my sneakers before heading out.

Plugging in my headphones and blasting my work out playlist, I began jogging. After a few seconds, my feet started hitting the pavement along with the beat of my music.

Holmes Chapel was very quiet. Although it was early, I thought a few people would be out. Early birds; usually elderly. But nobody was; it was silent and eerie, almost like a ghost town.

When I reached the park, I decided to start on my way home, not bothering taking a rest. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. I counted the paces of my feet as if it was part of a dance routine. I was lost in my thoughts, lost in my music.

All of the sudden, a hand gripped my shoulder. I spun around quickly--too quickly--and lost my balance. Before I knew it, I was lying on the ground, my back flat to the road.

"Evie? Evie, are you alright?" I shielded the sunlight and squinted until I could see a mop of curly hair. Harry.

"Here," he offered me his hand to help me up. I flinched at it, remembering my dream.”Evie?” Confusion was written across his face, with a mixture of hurt. “I’m not going to hit you.” I still didn't take his hand, instead helping myself off the ground.

"What're you doing here?" I snarled, not wanting to be near him.

"I can't seem to get on the right time schedule," he shrugged, "so I took a walk." I blinked in recognition before I started to walk my way home again. "What're you doing up?" Harry followed me, walking next to me.

"What does it look like?" I rolled my eyes, shoving my earbuds into my ears again. I heard him sigh, and all of the sudden, he wasn't next to me.

I smiled in relief, glad he was gone. Well, for a moment. Until he was in front of me, making me gasp in surprise.

Again.

"Jesus, Harry!" I clutched my heart, which was beating at an abnormal rate due to being shocked.

"Sorry," he chuckled deeply. He stood there in front of me, just staring into my eyes.

"Can I help you?" I asked, annoyed he was in my way.

"I just--," he sighed, taking a small pause, "are you going to hate me forever?"

"Yes," I nodded, being serious.

"Evie," Harry whined my name like a child.

"What?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "Did you expect me to forgive you? Harry, you freaking made my life hell for four years." I rolled my eyes, walking around him.

"I get it, Evelyn. I was a complete asshole to you, I was. Can't you just--"

"That's what I don't understand, Harry," I interrupted him, turning to face him. "Why? Why did you pick on me so badly? What did I ever do to you to make you hate me so much?"

"Nothing," he looked to the ground, looking upset. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"Obviously I did, or you wouldn’t have done what you did." I bit the inside of my cheek, walking away again. And this time, he let me go.
------------
(HARRY'S POV)

I watched her retreat from me until she turned the corner and was out of sight. I pulled on my curls out of frustration. Why was I so stupid?

I felt tears well up in my eyes. I hated being emotional, frankly. It made me feel weak and unmanly. So, I usually bottled it all up.

I knew why I had bullied Evie. I had liked her; liked her too much. I liked her more than I should’ve. But I never told her that; I never told anyone that. Instead, I watched her ignore me day by day, not knowing I had feelings for her. I had always kept my sadness and anger built up on the inside, and in a way, I sort of let it out. By bullying an innocent girl.

I started walking back to my house, completely disgusted with myself. I'm glad none of my fans or even my band mates knew about my past life of bullying; it was embarrassing enough to admit to myself, let alone people who looked up to you and were friends with you.

When I thought about it, I realized the only one who knew about the bullying was Evie, Kate, and I. I never did it in front of anyone else.

I remember the first time I met Evelyn, in the sixth grade.

FLASHBACK: AGE 12


"Class," my geography teacher got our attention, "we have a new student. This is Evelyn Henderson." The teacher had her hands on the shoulders of a girl, who I assumed was my own age at the time, 12. "Would you like to say a few words?" She asked Evelyn, who nodded shyly.

"Hi," she gave the class a small wave, "I'm Evelyn. But please, call me Evie!" Her ginger-brown hair was to her collarbones and sat straight.

"What do you like to do in your spare time, Evie?" The teacher asked.

"I like to annoy my sister," she giggled. "And hang out with friends."

Evie ended up sitting next to me that day in geography. I wanted to talk to her, maybe welcome her to the school. But as soon as I was about to say something, the jock of the school, Jack, beat me to it.

"Hey, I'm Jack," he winked at her. Most girls would've swooned at Jack winking, or give off a girly giggle. He had that ‘player’ effect to him that made the girls in class freak out.

But not Evie. She gave him a disgusted look and said "hey," turning away from him quickly and focusing on her work. A few moments later, she turned to her right, facing me. “What an asshole that guy is.”

And that was the day I knew I liked her. I liked Evie Henderson.

Chapter Five


Kate and I walked into the ice cream shop, laughing about a story she just told me about her parents and a mysterious run-in with her mom’s cousin’s neighbor. If that made any sense.

This ice cream shop held a lot of memories for Kate and me. We used to go here whenever I was upset, which was basically almost every day. Not too many people knew of this place, which made it even more special. It was never crowded like Dairy Queen or Milkshake City, but it was never completely dead either.

"Mint chocolate chip," I ordered my treat at the ice cream shop. "Double scoop."

We sat at a booth with our sugary snacks, her across from me with a cookie dough ice cream cone. "So let me get this straight," Kate flailed her arms dramatically. "Last night you tell Harry to f*** off, and this morning he was nice to you?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "I expected him to be mean again, y'know? I feel like he’s still a bully at heart. But he was being nice."

“It sounds to me like he has changed,” she raised an eyebrow at me.

“No,” I shook my head. “Bullies don’t change. Not in three years, not in three centuries. They’re always bullies at heart.” And I truly believed that. I truly believed bullies weren’t capable of changing.

"Maybe he wants something?" Kate suggested.

"He's a rich popstar, Kate. What could he possibly want or need from me?" I shrugged, licking my ice cream cone.

"Forgiveness."
-------------

That word was stuck in my head on my walk home from the ice cream shop.

Forgiveness.

Eleven letters, three syllables, and one meaning.

What I didn't understand was why. If Harry really did want my forgiveness, why now? Why couldn't he just forget I existed? Why couldn’t he let me hate him?

I walked into the local convenience store, remembering I had to pick up a gallon of milk for my mum. I made my way to the refrigerated section, grabbing the white liquid and bringing it to the cashier.

"Evelyn!" I heard a woman's voice say from behind me. "Evie!" I looked over my shoulder and saw Anne waving her arm near the magazine rack. I got out of line and walked over to her.

“Hey, Anne," I smiled as I approached her. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure everything was okay," she said, concern washing over her aged yet pretty face.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know," Anne shrugged, "Harry's been acting weird. I thought maybe something happened between you two?"

"Nope, everything's good," I lied.

"Oh good," she smiled. She sent me a wary look before speaking again. "Would you mind stopping by the house later today?"

"Do you want to see my mum? I could call and see if she could make it—“

"No," Anne shook her head, "I actually just want to talk to you. In a more formal setting, of course," she motioned around the small convenience store, where people were bustling about.

"Oh,” I tried to keep my calm composure. “Uh, yeah, I'll be there at around five o'clock." I smiled, saying my farewells before paying for my milk and walking out of the store.
-----------------

"Hey, mum," I greeted my mother as I entered the house. I walked over to the fridge, putting the milk away.

"Hello, sweetie. Thanks for getting the milk," she smiled, stirring the pot in front of her. "How was your day?"

"It was alright," I shrugged. "I'm heading over to the Styles' house though," I sighed. "Anne wants to talk to me."

"Oh, I know," my mum laughed. "She called me."

"Do you know what this is about?" I raised my eyebrow in suspicion.

"I do, but I'll wait until Anne asks you herself."

"Asks? So there's a question for me?" I tried to pull information out of my mum, although I knew deep down she wouldn't budge. She was a stubborn person; perfect lawyer material.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see," she giggled, knowing I was getting impatient. I rolled my eyes, walking up the stairs. I knocked on my sister's door, hearing a faint beat from her music player.
"Come in," Julie's voice was muffled through the wood.

I walked into the room, silently approving of her music taste; Ed Sheeran was playing faintly from the radio. "Hey," I sat down in her egg-shaped chair.

"Hey, Evie. What're you up to?"

"Not much." I glanced around her room. It hadn't changed much since I moved out last year; it was still a dark rose color and she still had posters hanging up. Although I did almost throw up when I saw a One Direction poster hanging in her room. "You like One Direction?” I asked her, masking my disgust.

Julie's cheeks fired as she blushed, "I just think it's cool that a member used to be friends with you," she shrugged, chuckling.

I almost asked her who when I realized she was talking about Harry and I. "Oh," I nodded, trying to hide my laughter. If only she knew.

I chatted with her for a bit before I had to leave. Saying goodbye to my family, I grabbed my car keys, too lazy to walk to the Styles' home.

As I pulled up to their driveway, I felt nervous again. What if Harry was there? Would he talk to me?

Does he really want my forgiveness?

I walked to their front door, ringing the melodic door bell. Anne answered in a few short moments, letting me in and leading me to the dining table.

"Is Harry here?" I asked nervously, looking around to catch a glimpse of his chocolate curls. I silently prayed he wasn’t present.

"No, that's why I've asked you to come. I needed to talk to you without him here." I sat on the chair across from Anne, watching her face scrunch up. Something was definitely on her mind.

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion as I sat down across from her. "Oh?"

"Look, Evie," Anne took a deep breath, "I have a favor to ask of you." I was almost sure she could hear my heart, as it was pounding loudly in my chest. "Don't feel obligated to say yes or accept to it," she continued. "I'm not going to pressure you into helping me."

I nodded, waiting for her to spit it out. "It's a big favor, sweetie. I want you to have a nice and relaxed summer, but I need your help. And the only reason I'm asking you to do such a thing is because your Harry's friend...and I'm a bit desperate."

"Anne, please just tell me," I laughed nervously, hating the suspense.

"I need you to watch Harry for me."

"Watch?" I questioned, Anne nodding in response. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Anne looked around the room nervously, "have you seen any of the tabloids lately?"

"No," I shook my head. If there was media about Harry, I made sure to avoid it.

"Well he's in trouble, Evie. His career will end soon if he doesn't get help. I can't get him to stop partying and drinking, Evelyn," Anne started to tear up, "I just don't know what to do anymore."

My heart broke into a million pieces for Anne. She was such a sweet woman, who had the misfortune of having Harry Styles as her son.

"What exactly do I need to do?" I asked her softly when she calmed down, not wanting her to burst into another round of tears.

"Spend time with Harry. I don't want to say that you have to babysit him...but you kind of do. Make sure he doesn't go out all the time, or drink."

I bit the inside of my cheek. I wanted to refuse, to scream. I wanted to cry and tell Anne that he doesn't deserve to become better, and that he deserves an ending career.

But then I remembered that Harry was in a band. If his career ended, so would four others'. And to see how his constant partying and drinking affected Anne...it made my chest hurt.

"I knew it was too much to ask," Anne interrupted my thoughts, shaking her head. "I'm so sorr--"

"I'll do it." I interrupted her.

Anne's lips stretched into a wild smile. "Are you sure? Don't feel obligated, sweetie."

"I'm sure," I nodded, "I'll do it."

Famous.Last.Words.

Chapter Six




What're you doing today?" Kate asked me through the phone.

"I think my mom wants to take Julie and I shopping," I lied. Truth was, today I was starting the 'get Harry back on track' favor for Anne. But I was going to keep it a secret from Kate; she would have been angry and disappointed if she knew I was helping my childhood bully.

"Oh, alrighty then," Kate's muffled voice said over my speaker, "I'll see you later."

"Okay, bye," I hung up the phone. I jumped out of bed and got a quick shower, throwing on jeans and a hoodie; it may have been summer but I was in England; it was still cold.

I grabbed my iPhone and jammed it into my back pocket before grabbing my car keys and making my way down the stairs.

"I'm going to go," I told my mum. She already knew everything I was doing for Anne, so she didn't question me any further. I slowly got into my car and drove to Harry's house. I contemplated what I should say to him; it had been less than a week ago that I told him I hated him. And now I was supposed to be not only friendly to him, but helpful and caring towards him.

I pulled into their driveway as slowly as possible before walking up the porch steps. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.


(HARRY'S POV)



I heard a knocking noise from down stairs. At first I paid no attention to it, but then I realized it was someone knocking on the front door.

I rolled out of bed, not bothering to put on clothes. Whoever was at the door would have to see me in my boxer briefs.

I stumbled down the stairs, trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes. I quickly swung the door open, to see someone I never thought I would see again.

Evie Henderson.

"Uh, hi," she waved awkwardly, giving me a small smile.

"Hi," I was shocked I could even form a word.

"Do you have any plans today?" She asked me quietly.

It took me a while to answer; I wanted to make sure she was talking to me. Even though I was the only one near her, I felt like maybe she was there for my mum or Gemma. I never would've thought in a million years that she was there to see me.

"Uh, no," I shook my head.

"Good," Evie smiled. "Go get dressed."

"Wha--"

"Go get dressed," she interrupted me, pointing to the staircase, "and meet me in the driveway." She walked towards her car, and I took that as my cue to run upstairs and get ready.
Pulling on a pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt, I tried to make sense of the situation that was occurring. Evie, the girl I used to bully, was here…at my house…to see me. I slipped on some clean socks and a pair of Converse before walking over to my mirror. I decided my hair was too unmanageable so I shoved a beanie on my head, my curly hair poking out from beneath it.

I was walking down the stairs after freshening up before my mum scared me. "Where are you going?" She asked, making me jump from her sudden voice.

"Geez mum," I clutched my heart, making her giggle. "I'm going out."

"With who?" She asked, distaste clearly in her voice.

"Evie Henderson," I shrugged as if it were no big deal.

I expected my mum to scold me on going out without telling her and blah blah blah, but she didn't. Instead she gave me a wide smile and said "I like that Evie girl. I'm glad you two are friends."

I nodded uncomfortably, gulping for air, before realizing Evie was still waiting for me in the driveway. I gave my mum a kiss on the cheek and left, walking towards Evie.

"Hey," she smiled, her ponytail bobbing as she walked to her car. "Get in."

I obeyed, climbing into the passenger seat. "Where are we going?" I asked her as I put on my seatbelt.

"You'll see." She smiled again, starting the car and driving north from my house.

We drove in silence for a long time, only the soft hum of the radio as the source of sound. That's when my curiosity started to eat away at me.

What if Evie was driving me far away, where she could murder me? I mean, it made sense. Although she doesn't exactly seem like murderer material, I did deserve it. I bullied and teased her for four years; I was surprised she was even talking to me.

"What's wrong?" Evie's voice interrupted my paranoid thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, nothing," I shook my head. "Seriously, where are we going? We've been driving for ages."

"Harry, it's been like ten minutes," Evie laughed. "But we're almost there, I promise." And she was right. About three minutes later, Evie parked her car in a shop parking lot.

"Are we going shopping?" I asked her, scrunching up my eyebrows. “I don’t think I grabbed my wallet.”

"We’re not shopping," she shook her head, "follow me." She led me across the street and we crossed a field. After hopping over a few trunks and dodging a bunch of branches, Evie spoke up again. "Here it is."

She motioned to our surroundings as I took it in. There was a small creek with flowing water, making a trickling waterfall sound. There were huge rocks to sit on as if someone lived there, and there were colorful bushes of flowers that lined the creek.

In summary, it was completely breathtaking.

"What is this place?" I asked her, still taking everything in.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" She smiled towards the creek, where I saw both of our reflections in. I nodded as she continued, "I found this place a few years ago. I used to ride my bike here whenever I was upset and Kate wasn't around." Evie went to sit on one of the huge rocks, and I followed her, sitting across from her.

"Upset?" I questioned further, "because of me?"

Evie's cheeks became rosy as she nodded slightly. She took a deep breath, "you really did hurt me, Harry."

The guilt washed over me and drowned me like an ocean. The fact that I had teased a girl so badly that she had to get away from everyone was terrifying. If there was anything I could ever wish for, I would wish that I never bullied Evie.

I looked around at the creek, the flowers, the rocks, and imagined a younger Evie here. Alone, scared, and hurt.

The image made me sick.

"I'm so sorry," I said quietly, catching her brown orbs with my green ones. "I mean it from the bottom of my heart." We looked at each other for a long time, just staring into each other's eyes, before I had to speak up again. "Hey, Evie?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you being nice to me?" I asked sincerely.

Evie bit the inside of her cheek before answering. "Look, Harry," she looked down at her shoes, "you hurt me. But it's in the past, right?" She met my eyes again, "you were being an immature kid. And there's no reason to hold a grudge over it. Especially if we're going to be in the same town all summer."

"So you're just going to forgive me? You're going to let four years worth of bullying you go?" I asked her in disbelief. If I were her, I would never speak to me.

"Let's get one thing straight," Evie's eyes stared into my own. "There is no more bitterness between us. I'm not going to hold a grudge."

"Okay," I nodded, in complete shock.

"Harry," she stood up, walking over to me. "I can forgive you for what you've done. But I'll never forget."

Chapter Seven



I woke up the next morning, dreading the thought of getting out of bed. I had to see Harry again today. I was shocked he bought it; he bought the lie I had told him. The lie that went something like 'I forgive you'.

How could he actually believe that I had forgiven him? If someone bullied you for four years and made you basically hate yourself, would you forgive them so easily?

No.

But I promised Anne I'd help him, and if I was going to help him, he had to think we were friends.

"Evelyn!" My dad's voice came from downstairs, interrupting my thoughts. "Harry's here!"

I muttered a sting of cuss words as I got out of bed and got dressed faster than I had ever gotten dressed before. I unbraided my hair, leaving it wavy down my back. I dusted in some light makeup before grabbing my iPhone and almost running down the stairs.

"Sorry, I lost track of time," I forced a smile towards Harry, who was beaming.

"No worries," he waved his hand dismissively. "I was just talking with your father."

I led Harry out the front door and made my way to my car. "Nope," Harry shook his head, "we're taking my car today."

I looked at his car in disgust. Range Rovers had always pissed me off, if that made any sense. They were big and gaudy, and screamed 'I'm rich'.

"What?" Harry asked from the driver's seat, seeing my expression. "It's a good car."

"Whatever you say," I shook my head, getting into the passenger's seat. "Where are we going?" I asked him after we has been driving for about ten minutes.

"You'll see," he said in a girly voice, mocking me from yesterday. I laughed at his attempt to capture my voice; it was horrible.

He pulled up to a plaza with a bunch of stores I had never been into. They were much too expensive for me to ever shop there. Harry jumped out of the car and noticed I didn't. "You coming?"

"No, I think I'll stay here," I chuckled nervously.

Harry walked over to my window, which was open. "What's wrong?"

"Harry, I can't afford any of these places," I said quietly, embarrassment lacing through my words.

"Not a problem," he smiled. "It's my treat."

“Harry, you’re not paying for me,” I argued.

“Evie,” Harry opened my passenger door, pulling on my arm. “It’s the least I can do.”

I reluctantly got out and followed him into a store called Jack Willis. He went straight into the men's section, leaving me to aimlessly browse through the woman's.

Although there was cute stuff, none of it really caught my eye. The only thing I saw and really liked was this beachy-looking fedora, and I admired it for some time.

"Hey, find anything?" Harry asked, a pair of sunglasses in his hands.

"Nah," I shrugged, putting the fedora down. I was still wary about letting him pay for me.

"Alright, let me just purchase these," he said, wiggling the sunglasses in his hands. The both of us walked to the cash register before Harry smacked his forehead. "I left my wallet in the car."

"I'll get it," I offered, shrugging. He handed me his keys and I went out to the car. I searched for almost ten minutes before concluding that there was no wallet in the car. I frustratedly walked back into the store, to see Harry handing the cashier money.

"Sorry," Harry walked over to me with a bag. "I found it in my pocket."

"It's all good," I laughed. We hopped into his car and he started driving somewhere else. “Oh,” he smacked his head again. “Can you give me my new sunglasses?”

“Sure,” I reached into his shopping bag. I felt a cloth material and immediately became confused. Last time I checked, sunglasses were plastic.

I grabbed the item out, smiling. He had bought the beach-inspired fedora I had been looking at. “Harry,” I sent him a grin. I may not have forgiven him yet, but it was a step. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he chuckled. “Put it on, yeah?” I obeyed, setting it on my head. “It looks good,” he nodded in approval. I felt my cheeks heat up, and kept it on.

Twenty ‘thank yous’ later from me, Harry pulled up to a small diner, and I sent him a skeptical look. "I know it looks a bit rough," he said, "but their food is awesome. You'll love it."

Once again, I followed Harry into an unfamiliar place. We were seated at a booth, him across from me. Harry recommended the Belgium waffles, so we both ordered that, mine with orange juice and his with chocolate milk.

"I'm really glad that we're friends now," Harry beamed at me. I felt an urge to roll my eyes, but instead nodded and sent him yet another fake smile.

"Me too."

"What do you want to do after this, anyways?" Harry asked, "I figured the shopping would take longer than it did."

"Why's that?" I asked, chewing on my straw.

"Because you're a girl," he shrugged, "most girls take forever shopping."

"Well I'm not most girls," I smiled. I tried to think of stuff we could do. "We can go to the fair?"

Holmes Chapel always held a two-day long fair in the summer. I hadn't been in a long time; it always felt too childish to me.

"Geez, I haven't been in a long time," he looked out the window. I almost felt bad for him; he rarely ever got to spend time home.

I finished up my waffle, complimenting Harry on his choice of restaurant. "How'd you even find this place?" I asked, looking around. It was small, for sure. And it looked like it was set in the 70s, almost like it had been off the set of Grease. But from what I could see, the people seemed friendly and everyone seemed genuinely happy.

"Well you know how you had the creek as your getaway?" He looked around with a small smile, "this was my getaway."

"Why did you need a getaway?" I raised an eyebrow at him. From what I had noticed when I was younger, Harry had a perfect life. Friends, family, and love surrounding him.

I instantly regretted asking him in such a rude tone. His face held an upset expression, and he just shrugged. "Let's go to the fair," he said, avoiding the question altogether.

We hopped back into the Range Rover and he drove across town to where the fair was held. I smiled as we got out of the car and walked towards the entrance. The sickenly sweet smell of cotton candy filled my nostrils, and children's laughter was heard throughout the whole area.

"Oh my god, c'mon," I dragged Harry by his hand and ran towards the roller coaster. In my own giddiness and happiness, I forgot I hated him for a second.

We stood in line waiting for the roller coaster. Harry kept nervously glancing around, and then he started biting his nails.

"You okay?" I asked him, amusement in my voice.

"Uh, yeah," he nodded, his face drained from color.

"What is it?" I crossed my arms as we moved up in line.

"It's just," he took a deep breath, "I'm scared of roller coasters."

FLASHBACK: AGE 14


"C'mon, Evie!" A twelve year old Julie pulled me towards the roller coaster. "I wanna go on there!"

"Okay, but let's get some water first," I led her to the concession stand. It had been extremely hot that day, and I didn't want my little sister to get dehydrated.

I bought us two waters with the money my mum gave us and we sat down at a picnic table. "I'm so excited to ride the roller coaster!" Julie beamed, taking a sip of her iced water.

"Me too--"

"Having fun, are we?" All of the sudden, another person sat down at our picnic table.

Harry.

"Yes we are!" Julie smiled, oblivious to my disgusted face. He smiled back at her. For some reason, he wasn't giving off a bullying vibe. He was actually being friendly.

"Do you want some cotton candy?" He asked Julie, who nodded her head quickly. He got up and bought her a pink one, which she ate in no time.

"Thanks, Harry," she laughed, getting up to throw the cotton candy wrapping away.

"I'm sorry, but can I help you?" I asked him, uncomfortable with his presence. He had bullied me for two years; having a bully around your younger sister was not a good feeling.

Harry shrugged, still smiling. "I was just being nice."

Before I could say anything back, Julie came back over. "Hey Harry, do you want to come on the roller coaster with us?"

I prayed so hard that he would say no; I think it was the only prayer that ever came true for me.

"No thanks," he ruffled her hair. He leaned down and whispered something in her ear, making her giggle.

I quickly grabbed Julie's hand and jogged to the roller coaster, getting away from him. "What did he say to you?" I demanded.

"He said he was scared of roller coasters," she laughed.

(END OF FLASHBACK)


To think that just four years ago, I was running from Harry. And now here I am, standing next to him voluntarily. Well, sort of voluntarily.

"Evie?" Harry waved a hand in my face, whisking me away from my memories.

"Huh? Oh right," I snapped out of it, "you can do it."

"Do what?" He asked.

"Ride the roller coaster." Harry's green irises darted towards the roller coaster, which was coming to a stop.

"I don't think I can," he said lowly.

"Oh, come on," I punched his arm. "Be a man."

Harry laughed, still not convinced. "For me?" I asked, sticking my bottom lip out like a puppy.

He sighed, finally nodding. "For you." We climbed into the roller coaster and I waited anxiously as the employee made sure everyone was strapped in.

The roller coaster started and we were off. It gradually picked up speed as it went through a dark tunnel. I felt someone squeeze my hand, and I squeezed back, not sure who it was.

When we got out of the tunnel I realized it was Harry's hand. I wanted to let it go, but I didn't want to be rude, so I let him squeeze my hand. I turned to see him; he was screaming his arse off. I started laughing, to the point where my sides hurt.

After we got off, I walked over to the counter and bought a wallet-sized picture; the roller coaster always captured a picture of two passengers at a time.

In the picture, I was laughing and my face was red. Harry's face was red too, but he wasn't laughing; his face was full of terror.

"Oh my god!" I burst into another fit of laughter.

"What?" Harry asked, grabbing the photo from my hand. "Oh god," he covered his face in embarrassment.

"This is the best thing ever," I choked between my laughter. "I can't even handle this," I put the picture in my pocket. I fiddled with my fingers, facing Harry, "your death grip made my hand go numb."

"Shut up," he mumbled, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment. "I pick the next ride," he changed the subject, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the Ferris wheel.

We got on straight away since there wasn't a large line. We slowly went up in our carriage and stopped at the top.

You could see a nearby river from our view, and the skyline of Holmes Chapel looked gorgeous as the sun was setting. "It looks so beautiful," I said in awe.

"It does," Harry's voice murmured. I looked over to see him staring at me, instantly looking away.

We finally got off of the Ferris wheel and he drove the two of us home.

"I was shocked nobody stopped and asked you for a picture today," I said, as Harry pulled into my driveway.

"I think they're a bit used to me being here," he shrugged, turning off the car.

There were a few moments of silence as I gathered my things together. "I had fun today," Harry said, catching my attention.

"Me too," I smiled.

That's what the scary thing was; I actually had fun hanging out with Harry.

Chapter Eight


Harry and I were sitting on the couch, watching a movie. A week had gone by and we had basically hung out about every day. And although at first it made me hate life, I started to realize that he wasn't so bad to be around when he wasn't a bully.

The movie ended and Harry turned off the television. "Want anything to drink?" He asked, getting up and walking towards the kitchen.

"No thanks," I said, but followed him anyways. I sat on his kitchen counter, as if I had been in his house for years.

As if we were friends.

"So," I said, catching his attention, "what brought you home?"

Harry didn't answer for a long time; I could see that he was trying to form the right words to say.

"I got into some trouble back in Los Angeles," he said quietly. He reached into the fridge, grabbing a cold soda.

"What kind of trouble?" I blurted, regretting it the instant it came out of my mouth. Harry shot up at the question, almost spilling his can of soda all over."I'm sorry," I backtracked, "you don't have to tell me."

"No, it's okay," Harry's eyes shot up from his feet and met mine. "My band actually forced me to go home."

"How come?" I asked gently, not wanting to push him too far.

Harry bit his lip before answering. "They said I had changed."

"Changed?" I continued to question him, trying to pull information from him.

"They said I started acting like a stuck-up popstar," he shrugged.

"Did you?"

Harry took a deep breath, sitting next to me. "Honestly? Yes." He took a sip of his soda. "And I knew I was acting like one too, I just couldn't stop."

"Why couldn't you stop?"

"Well," Harry chewed on his bottom lip, "I felt like I couldn't control it, y'know? We were always going to these parties and always around crazy people. I started going to more parties; parties we didn't necessarily have to go to. And then there's the media attention; it makes you get a big head."

"But why didn't you just ignore all of the media?" I shrugged, not being able to see his point of view.

"I tried, for a long time, to ignore it. I didn't necessarily want to see the tweets and the articles about me. Half of them were lies and the other half were fabricated truths. And then there are the people, too."

"People? Like writers?" I questioned.

"No, like the fans. And most of all, the haters. That's what really got to me--all of the hate. I just wanted to live my dream and sing. But the amount of hate that I receive is pretty crazy."

A part of me wanted to rub the hate in his face and make him feel the pain he had caused me for so long. But a larger part of me felt bad for him, because I knew what it was like.

"That's what kills me," he looked into my eyes, continuing. "I've already cracked and it's only been two years. I hurt you for double that amount of time, and you never cracked."

"I did though," I rolled up my sleeves, showing him my cutting scars once again. "See?"

Harry winced, knowing he had caused me to do that. He had caused me to cut myself when I was younger, and I think that hurt him.

"I'm so sorry," he said, staring at them. He took my wrist gently in his hand and rubbed the pads of his thumbs softly over each scar.

He released my wrist and got up, tugging at his belt. "Uh, what're you doing?"

"Taking off my pants," he struggled with his belt.

"What?" I said, disgusted. Was he really that deprived that he needed to do something right now?

"It's not like that," he chuckled. "I want to show you something." He pulled down his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

Before I could protest, he was pointing to his thigh. Beneath his leg hair, I saw three lines go across the top of his thigh.

"You weren't the only one hurting," he said weakly.

I hopped off the counter and took a closer look at them, without trying to look creepy. Which was impossible. "When did you do this to yourself?" I asked him in disbelief. I never thought Harry cut himself, considering he was the reason for my own cuts.

"This one I did in the seventh grade," he pointed to the first one, "and this one in the tenth grade, just before I left for X Factor. I actually did them because of you."

"Wait, what?" I stood up straight, crossing my arms.

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" Worry flashed through his eyes, "I just felt so guilty. I knew I hurt you, Evie. So I thought I deserved to hurt too."

We just stared into each others' eyes before I pointed to the third cut, which was more red than the other two. "What about that one?"

Harry sucked in breath, "I did that one about a month ago."

"What happened?" I asked him softly. Harry pulled up his pants and re-did his belt, leaning on the counter.

"I was just sick of it all. Sick of being in the media. Sick of all the hate. Do you know my band mate Louis and I can't even hug in public anymore?" I shook my head no. "Well, we can't. Our fans seem to think there's something going on between us romantically. And my tattoos? I got so much hate for them. They said I shouldn't have them, and that I was copying Zayn."

"Why did you pay any attention to them?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Why did you pay any attention to me?"

"Because you were always there, ready to hurt me," I whispered softly.

Harry's eyes held an emotion so strongly, I could read it perfectly.

His eyes, as stupid as it sounded, told me that he understood.

"Let me show you something," he pulled out his phone, putting it into my hands. "Click the twitter mentions button."

I did as he said, and what I saw was completely horrible.

-You deserve to die
-You're disgusting
-If One Direction dropped you they'd be a decent band
-How about you just don't exist
-Nice hair, stupid b****
-Your family should be ashamed of you
-How does your mom feel, knowing that you party all night and f*** sluts?


I quickly turned his phone off, instantly feeling horrible for the curly haired boy that stood before me.

Without saying a word, I gave him a hug, wrapping my arms around him and resting my head on his chest.





And that was the day that I truly forgave Harry Styles. For bullying me, for making me hate myself. For everything.

Chapter Nine


I heard a knocking noise from my bed, and realized it was the front door. "Door!" I yelled, hoping my mum or Julie would get it since my dad was at work. After hearing another knock, I frustratedly got out of bed and walked to the door, messy hair and pajamas completing my grungy look.

I swung the door open to see Kate, holding a tray with two coffees. "Starbucks?" She smiled, walking past me and into the house.

"Since when do you knock?" I raised an eyebrow at her, taking a sip of one of the coffees.

Kate shrugged, "your mum's car wasn't there so I wanted to see if anyone was home."

"Mum? Julie?" I called up the stairs. Nobody answered, confirming that they were both out.

"So, wanna do something?" Kate raised her eyebrows.

"Like what?" I asked, taking another gulp of coffee.

"How about bowling? I haven't bowled in forever," she said with a small smile. Kate had used to be on a bowling league--I used to make fun of her for it.

I agreed, and got changed quickly into some jeans and a sweater, before walking out to Kate's car. We drove the three minute distance to the bowling alley, chit chatting about this and that.

I paid for two rounds of bowling. The first round went by quickly, Kate beating me by an embarrassing amount of points.

Taking a break, we ordered chips and soda, sitting at the table near our stuff. "So where have you been, anyways?" Kate asked, grasping my attention. "I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time, which is weird since we live a block away from each other."

I took a deep breath. It was now or never, I told myself. I had to tell her. "I've been busy...with Harry." I said quietly, studying her face for her reactions.

"Harry? As in--"

"Harry Styles," I muttered, nodding.

Kate was silent for what seemed like forever. I chewed on my lip and took note that the atmosphere became tense.

"What the hell do you mean?" She finally spoke, making me look up from my soda. "You're joking, right?"

"It's complicated..." I started, not knowing how to word the situation.

"How the f*** is it complicated, Evelyn?" Kate was clearly angry now, her eyes narrowing, and her voice low. "He hurt you so badly, Evie. And now you're hanging out with him? What, do you like him?"

"N-no," I shook my head, "it's not like that."

"Then what the f*** is it like?!" Kate raised her voice, attracting attention from the bowling employees behind the counter. "I watched you break down so many times because of that asshole, and now you're spending time with him?!"

"Kate--" I sighed, getting interrupted by a bowling employee.

"I'm going to have to ask you to keep it down, ma’m," she said to Kate, "this is a family-friendly place."

"Whatever," Kate stood up, gathering her things in a fuss. "Have fun with your new best fucking friend." She rolled her eyes, leaving the bowling alley.

Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I blinked them away and grabbed my things before walking outside of the bowling alley.

I took out my phone, feeling a huge lump in my throat form. I swallowed and dialed a number that I had become familiar with in the past few weeks.

"Harry, I need you to pick me up."
------------------------------------

"I'm so sorry," Harry apologized to me again, for about the fifth time, his eyes focused on the road.

"It's not your fault," I murmured, looking out the passenger window. I did understand Kate's point of view, though. If I was in her shoes, I probably would have been angry and disappointed with me too.

Harry drove us to a nearby ice cream shop, one I had rarely gone to. I chuckled at his location of choice. "I thought this might help you feel better," he pointed to the shop, a sheepish look taking over his boyish features.

"I think it just might," I smiled at him, unbuckling my seat belt and hopping out of the car.

I decided to order something different than my mint chocolate chip, and went with some berry twist. Harry ordered a regular vanilla cone, and paid for the two cones.

"Thanks for this," I sat down on a bench outside the shop. I stuck my tongue out and gave a small lick to the berry-flavored ice cream.

The first flavor I tasted was sweet, and I was happy I chose something different. But I quickly realized it had a bitter aftertaste, making me scrunch up my face.

"Give it here," Harry laughed.

"Give what?" I asked confused, trying to pretend I liked my cone.

"I knew you wouldn't like it. Luckily I do," he gave me a cheeky grin, offering his vanilla cone to me. I blushed as we switched cones.

Two hours flew by, and before I knew it, it was dark outside and my butt was numb. Harry and I had finished our ice creams and remained on the bench, just talking. He was very easy to talk to, which surprised me.

"You know," I said as we sat down in his Range Rover, on our way to my house. "Today really opened my eyes."

"How so?" Harry asked, a glint of curiousness sparking in his green eyes.

"I didn't think of you as my childhood bully today. Not once. I just thought of you as Harry Styles. As my friend." And it was true. I never thought 'I'm eating ice cream with my childhood bully' or anything like that.

Harry smiled, remaining quiet. He smiled the whole way home, looking goofy as he drove. I thanked him for the ice cream, getting out of the car.

"Not to push any buttons," Harry called outside his car window, making me turn around. "But you should consider yourself lucky."

"And why's that?" I raised an eyebrow, amusement obvious in my tone.

"You shared ice cream with me. You licked Harry Styles' saliva." And with those classy last words, Harry drove away, leaving me laughing at his immaturity.

Then it dawned on me; I called him my friend.


Harry Styles, my old childhood bully, was my friend.

Chapter Ten


The next morning I smiled, thinking of last night. Harry and I had bonded, and we sort of became friends.

Friends.

That one word still scared me, knowing what he did to me in the past. But I told myself to let it all go; Harry was different now. I picked up my phone to see if I had any missed calls or texts. And I did; I had an unread text message.

Kate.

My heart thudded loudly in my chest as I opened it.


From: Kate
I'm mad. So mad at you. But I'm sorry for leaving you. Did you get home okay?


To: Kate
I made it home alright, and I understand. I'd be upset too.


From: Kate
I saw Harry driving from your street. Did he give you a ride home?


To: Kate
Yeah, he did.


From: Kate
Look, we've been friends for a long time, Evie. I don't want him to get between our friendship. Just please...be careful. Seeing you with him is sort of upsetting.


I called her, sick of typing on my iPhone. She picked up within one ring;

"Hello?"

"Hey," I said coolly.

"I'm just scared for you," Kate skipped straight to the point. "You've been hurt so many times, Evie. I watched you cry yourself to sleep, I watched you bite your fingernails raw. I don't want any of that to happen again. Not only for my sake, but for your own. You're almost nineteen years old now." I took a deep breath, soaking it all in. What if she had a point?

Unfortunately, I was a person who was swayed easily. I could be dead set on a decision, and someone could change my mind in a blink of an eye. And that was one of my biggest flaws.

"You're right. I should've been more careful," I wiped a stray tear. I was beginning to doubt myself. I had forgiven Harry so quickly...maybe it was all a mistake. Maybe I shouldn't become friends with him.

Kate and I hung up a few minutes later, promising to see each other soon. I decided to take a long, hot bath, trying to clear my thoughts.

Maybe I needed a break. I had become friends with Harry in a matter of two weeks after years of hating him. I needed a break from Anne's favor.

From Harry.
------------------------------------

Three days whizzed by. I had successfully avoided Harry; I ignored his texts and calls, even though I didn't want to. Honest to god, I missed the boy.

But I kept strong. I didn't see him for three days; instead I spent time with Kate and Julie, even having a few chats with my mum and dad when they were home.

I climbed down the stairs and made my way to the kitchen, where Julie was eating a banana.

"Hey Jules," I greeted my sister. "What do you wanna do today?"

"I actually have to go to my friend Christa's house. We have to work on our summer homework," she said, a regretful look in her eye. "Maybe Kate's available?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it," I have her a warm smile. "I'll go give Kate a call." I jogged up the stairs and went to call Kate.

"I'm sorry," Kate apologized, "I'm at my grandparents' house for the day."

We hung up and I went back to the kitchen. Julie was gone, and my parents were home.

Leaving me alone.

I told myself it was a good thing. I hadn't had a 'me' day all summer. Within the next few hours I ate, painted my nails, and even cleaned my room.

In summary, I was bored out of my mind.

I wandered into my bedroom, thinking I should clean out my old high school stuff I had kept. I was a pack rat when it came to old work; I always thought I would need to refer back to it.

I emptied my old backpacks, and then walked over to my desk drawers. I started at the bottom drawer, working my way up. I flung countless old essays I had saved into the garbage can. I finally reached the top drawer, and what I saw, made me wince.

The letter.

I unfolded it, reading it once again.



Dear whoever is reading this,



Mum, I’m going to assume you’re the one who will find this first. Who else would be in my desk drawers?

Tomorrow I’m leaving. I’m auditioning for X Factor. I may come home with bad results. Maybe the judges would dislike my voice. If that’s the case, I’ll probably be mortified to even show my face around here. Or anywhere.

But what if they do like my voice? What if I make it big? Could you imagine it? An album…Harry Styles written across the spine of it, with some catchy album name. Maybe a black and white portrait of me, with some serious look etched on my face.

This letter isn’t about me, though. Well, in a way it is. But it’s not about my future. It’s about my past.

I have so many things I’m sorry for, mum. You and Robin make me out to be this great son, who does no wrong. That’s not the case though. I’ve done things…horrible things.

I need a favor from you, mum. Do you remember that girl, Evelyn Henderson? She’s your friend Kathy’s daughter. If you ever see her, promise me you’ll apologize to her. Promise me you’ll apologize to Evie. I can’t tell you why you need to apologize. Maybe someday I will tell you why, but not any time soon. It still pains me to even think about it.

I hope I do well on the competition. I need to get away from this life, and start a new one. I need to let go of my guilt and regret.

I hope someday that girl will forgive me.








Your son,









Harry Styles


I still never told anyone about the letter. I never confronted Anne about it; I never brought it up with Harry. I didn’t tell Kate. I almost felt a bond with the letter, if that made any sense. It was a secret of mine; something only I knew about. Well, and Harry too.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on my door. After sticking the letter back into the drawer, I jogged down the stairs, peeking through the peep hole. I saw messy, chocolate curls. Oh crap. I didn't answer. I just stood there, hoping Harry would give up and go away.

He didn't.

"Evie!" He knocked on the door again. "I know you're in there!"

I bit my lip, contemplating on what to do. I decided to open the door; I was caught. Badly. "Heeeeeey," I opened the door, giving him my best smile.

A straight line was made of Harry's lips; he wasn't amused in the least. "I thought we were friends now?"

“We are,” I continued to give him a small smile.

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

"What?" I played dumb, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Give me your phone." He held his hand out, and I reluctantly handed him my phone. He read off of it. "Five missed calls, eight unread texts. And guess what, Evie? They're all from me."

"I know," I sighed, taking my phone from him. He sounded really hurt.

Harry stayed quiet and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Did I do something wrong?" He asked quietly. The look in his eyes honestly made my heart break.

"No," I looked down at my feet, "I've just been really busy."

"Evie." He tilted my chin up so I was looking at him. "You've been avoiding me."

"It's just that it's hard, y'know? I can't help but think of the past sometimes. And then there's Kate--"

"Wait, what about Kate?" Harry interrupted me; I had obviously sparked an interest.

"She made me rethink whether we should be friends," I mumbled. Now that I said it aloud, I felt stupid. I shouldn't have listened to her; I should have just kept moving on. Once again, my flaw got in my way.

"Oh," Harry replied. We kept quiet for a few minutes before he continued. "I understand if you can't be friends with me, Evelyn. I hurt you. And Kate has every right to be upset about the situation. I'll leave you alone, Evie."

I watched him get into his car, and I couldn't take it. I ran towards his car window, knocking on it frantically. "I want to be friends," I said once he opened it. "I'm willing to forget everything from the past if you are."

Harry's sad expression lit up, and a grin stretched over his pink lips.

"Deal."