One Journey, the Final

Chapter 27:

We ended up going to a Mexican food place. Harry loves tacos. It was high end, and he was willing to pay for it. We asked for a secluded spot in the back, too much attention would ruin the dinner. We went through small talk and had gotten through my dad choking on a tortilla chip. My mom had to perform the Heimlich maneuver. It was pretty gross to see a soggy chip piece fly across the table. I tried not to notice. Then, my mom accidently ate a really hot chili pepper that nearly turned her face tomato red. She drank three glasses of water. I was nearly through with all of these ridiculously embarrassing moments. At any point I was waiting for Harry to spill something. Halfway through my burrito and Harry’s fifth taco, I escaped to the bathroom. It was a relief. As I finished washing my hands and heading back toward our table, I felt a tight grip on my arm. I turned around to see a tall dark man with a beard staring at me. In a gruff voice he said,

                “You Annabel Price? Oh, I’d get a pretty penny for a picture of you. Come closer sweetheart, answer a few questions for me,” the guy said. He smelled like onions. I snatched my arm away and tried to run away. He was too fast. Before I knew it his arms were around my waist. He was whispering things into my ear, but I wasn’t listening. I was still trying to get away. His grip got tighter, my voice smaller. He was quickly pulling me to the back where no one would find me. I tried to dig my feet into the ground. He pulled harder, causing me to practically fall. Tears started to stream. No, no, no! I thought in my head. I could do nothing else. With my last might I screamed at the top of my lungs,

                “HARRY!” Within seconds Harry and my parents came running to my rescue. The paparazzi man kept his grip on me. Harry lunged towards the man, “Get your hands off of her!” He tackled him to the ground.

                “What did you do to her? Did he hurt you?” he said, yelling in the man’s face. The man tried to fight back. He was able to punch Harry in the nose and cause a bloody mess. Harry then punched him in the jaw. I heard bones crack, and sighs of pain. Before I knew it my father broke up the fight.

                “Larry-sir, stop!” He said, getting between them.               

                “Harry,” my mother and I corrected him at the same time in monotone. Within a few minutes the fight stopped, and my father had them at opposite sides of the room. Harry wiped away the blood, the guy feeling for broken bones.

                “This sleaze was harassing my fiancé!” Harry yelled, pointing his finger straight at the guy.

                “I just wanted a few pictures, that’s it!” he said, retreating.                       

                “Didn’t look like that. Or sound like that from the bloodcurdling scream,” Harry retorted.

                “Well, whatever the case, get out of here,” my father said deeply. The guy trudged out. I ran into Harry’s arms. He began caressing the back of my head. I started crying.

                “Well, this evening has been lovely. We should probably leave now before we cause an even bigger scene,” my mother said softly, trying to lighten things up.

                “Cause a scene, that man just attacked your daughter; and all you can say is ‘oh well’?” Harry said sharply. I didn’t want this to start a fight so I backed away from his arms, wiped the tears and said, “We’ll talk about this later. Let’s just go.” I walked hand in hand with Harry as my parents walked a foot away behind us. I hoped no one noticed us, we probably looked like a mess.

                When we got back to my house, I helped set up my parents room while Harry cleaned up. My mother began a conversation.

                “I’m sorry about what I said earlier tonight. Are you alright?” Tears stung in my eyes, but I blinked them away.

                “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said lightly.

                “And, I was wrong about Harry. Even though his hair is a hot mess, I can see that he really loves you,” my mother said happily. I laughed right out loud. Yes, his hair was a different story, but his smile made my knees go weak.

                “The way you two react to each other’s emotions is priceless. You don’t see that with many couples these days. You know each other so well.” I started to blush.

                “Yeah, I know there’s no one else out there for me,” I said.

                “I imagine that you two live together,” my mother said quietly. She had never approved of that sort of relationship. She believed that marriage should come first, then living together. I agreed.

                “Oh no. We don’t live together, trust me momma, marriage first,” I said with a smile. Most celebrity couples were not the way we were. I often saw my face plastered on the covers of magazines with big headlines, “Mrs. One Direction Pregnant.” Which were always lies. I wasn’t pregnant.

                “Oh. I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe you two were into that modern stuff,” my mother said as she unfolded sheets.

                “No. Harry’s quite a gentleman,” I said.

                “And he’s not too bad with washing dishes either,” Harry said, budding into our conversation. He was standing in the doorway, swinging a soggy towel, looking right at me.

                “Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?” I asked, a smirk across my face.

                “I would never do that. At least, not before. Only this once?” he said, putting his hands up in a signal of innocence. I started to saunter towards him with a smile spreading and said,

                “You sneaky little Brit.” And then I grabbed his arms and pulled him inside. He grabbed my hands and spun me around like we were dancing. We were laughing loudly. I then tackled him to the floor where I began tickling him.

                “And this is how Americans won the Revolution,” I said. Harry’s very ticklish, and he tried to defend himself, but it wasn’t working.

                “St-sto-stop!” he said between breathless laughs.

                “C’mon, is that all you’ve got British boy?” I asked. A big smile formed on his face, and with all his might, he pushed me off of him where I flew softly to the floor. He pinned me down and kissed me softly on the lips. It was fast and loving.

                “And that’s how Britain became the most powerful empire in the world,” he said in his thickest British accent. I started laughing again. I surrendered and he helped me up.

                “Well I think I’ll let you two be alone,” my mother said sheepishly, though I could tell she’d been laughing at us. Or with us. Once she left, Harry helped me up and we sat together against one of the beds. He again placed his hand on my knee. In a serious voice he asked heavily, “Are you alright?” My heart started to beat fast. Was I okay?

                “Oh, Harry,” I said and practically leapt into his arms. I started sobbing into his shoulder, and he rubbed my back. He was rocking back and forth and softly singing a song, I think it was, “Everything About You,” but I couldn’t really hear it over my cries. When he finished  he kissed the top of my head.

                “When he started to pull me into a back room, I thought that it was over. He was too strong for me. Screaming out for you was my last effort, and I was afraid you wouldn’t hear me,” I said. The tears stopped flowing, and I felt better. Harry could understand my pain.

                I think I might’ve dozed off in his arms, because when I woke up, I was in my bed as the light shone through my window. I was still in last night’s clothes, and then my memories flooded what happened last night. Harry must’ve carried me up to my room.