The Boy Next Door || Harry Styles

chapter three. {melanie}

Unbelievable. I was able to recognize Harry in a heartbeat and he couldn't even remember my name! It is three goddamn letters! M-E-L! After my encounter with Harry, I decide that I need time to think. How does he just show up out of nowhere and just ruin everything? Part of the reason why I came back was because I hoped Harry had moved on or gone somewhere else. I just want my time to be about my family and settling in.

Randomly, I hear a groan.

"Mel! You're squeezing my hand too tight!" Riley shouts out. I release my death grip on the little boy's hand and apologize,

"I'm so sorry, Ry." He smiles again when I use his nickname.

"Guess who calls me that at school?" He jumps up and down.

"Mh," I pretend to think for a while, "Is her name Caroline? No, Claire?" I knew her name was Cara. He talked about her on the walk home.

"No, silly! Her name is Cara. Did I tell you her favorite color is purple?" I grin and nod my head, he had told multiple times. Riley continues,

"I forgot the most, most, mostest important thing! She lives across the street." When we reach our house, he points to a small, white one that is on the other side of the street, four houses down.

"Yay, that means you can have play dates with her!" He bobs his head up and down. Releasing my hand, Riley runs up the door and knocks on it several times.

Cassidy opens the door and lets us in,

"How was your walk?" Riley begins his never-ending explanation of our small adventure. He talks about the puddles and the food and basically, every single thing that he saw. I go into the kitchen to ask my dad a question,

"Hey, do you still have your old, acoustic guitar? I think I just wanna go somewhere quiet and just play." He smiles,

"Yeah, it's upstairs. You'll have to tune it though, it's been sitting on the stand for years." He laughs and returns to reading his book,

"Oh and I'm gonna take the car." He gives me a small 'mhm'.

Quickly reaching the top of the stairs, I walk to the end where the small, study room is located. Inside, I grab my dad's old, tattered guitar and place it in the hard guitar case. Latching it shut, I grab it and leave it outside my bedroom door. Inside, I search for my notebook labelled 'Personal.' Not a very clever title, but it helps me keep track on which pieces of work are for myself and which ones are for school.

As I hurl everything downstairs, I say a quick goodbye and load everything into the back of my dad's small chevy. Sitting in the driver's seat, I think of a nice, quiet place I know no one will be able to hear me. Not many people have heard me sing and I'd like to keep it that way. At school, I only focus on my guitar and piano, songwriting is something I do in my free time. It is also a great way for me to vent.

Finally, the perfect place to go pops up into my head. The pond! No one ever goes there and if Harry already forgot who I was, then he also probably forgot about our little place.

* * *

I find two perfect little stumps sitting in front of the pond. I set my notebook and pencil on one of them and sit on the other. Placing the guitar case on the moist grass, I pull out the guitar. It is old, but still very nice. I look at it for a while and notice a small little heart drawn on at the base of the neck. Inside the heart is my initials. I remember drawing that when I was little.

Smiling, I position the guitar on my right thigh and go about tuning it. Testing out all six strings, the noise reverberates through the trees. The sound is beautiful.