LA to The Bay

Chapter 16: San Diego (3)

Victoria's Secret, somewhere next to a motorway, San Diego

'Niamh.' A voice whispers. Even though it's a whisper there is still a strong hiss to it, indicating that whoever said it is annoyed.

'Niamh.' There it is again, only just managing to find its way through the bra and pantie display which I am studying.

I'm currently sifting my way through the underwear sale at the Victoria's Secret store located at the retail outlet right next to our hotel. The rest of the group has gone to visit Sea World and the San Diego Zoo, but due to a personal preference for buying lacy underwear over watching an enclosed animal entertain me, here I find myself at America's favourite lingerie store and the panties are talking to me. They have to be, because nobody here knows who I am.

'For God's sake Niamh, are you deaf or something?'

There is a tug at my elbow and I am dragged behind a display of neon satin and leopard print push up bras. Of course it is Harry. What other man could possibly be found hanging out at a lingerie store in the middle of nowhere at 11am? He's no doubt buying an expensive present for his lovely new girlfriend.

'What are you doing here?' I hiss whisper back at him.

'You've got to help me.' He is so arrogant, just assuming that I will drop the bikini briefs I'm considering buying to go help him, just because he demands so.

'I am not helping you buy underwear for Marty if that's what you're after.' Just the memory of them kissing is enough to make me want to puke my breakfast right back up, so if he dare ask me for my advice on what bra size she might be then I shan't hesitate to punch him.

'Have you seen the price of this stuff, there's no way I'm buying her underwear.' But the thought has crossed his mind?

'I need you to save me from her?' He is desperate, running his hands through his hair and pacing back and forth, pleading almost.

'Save you from her? Why? How?' Just why does Harry want saving from Marty, since the last time I checked she was every mans brunette Barbie dream?

'There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you.' Marty's Antipodean voice bounces with glee at having found Harry, confirming what I suspected; he is hiding from her.

'Yeah, look, Niahm's here.' He grins at Marty widely, desperately, like he's trying to convince her that running into me is the best thing that ever happened to him. 'You remember Niamh?'

'Like I could forget.' The tall girl glares at me suspiciously.

'And it turns out Niamh is feeling really ill.'

'I am?'

Harry is nodding his head, wide eyed, clearly willing me to agree with him.

What's the most worrying thing is that I find myself obliging, ready to go along with whatever lie it is that he's busy establishing,

'oh yeah, it's my head, the stress of Tijuana must have given me a migraine.' Why would I just lie to her face like that for him?

'Yeah Niamh's got a migraine, so I think I ought to walk her back to the hotel, to make sure she's okay?'

'Can't she walk herself?' Her question seems reasonable enough to me.

'Oh no, Niamh has a history of fainting due to migraines. We wouldn't want to pass out next to the freeway now would we?'

The way he say's it, like I'm his life long friend who shares all her medical history with him, it almost has me believing him.

'Okay, then I'll come too?'

'No, no, you stay here and treat yourself, since you said that Victoria's Secret is the thing you were looking forward to most of all about the States, I don't want to ruin it for you.' An underwear store is what she was looking forward to most about visiting a whole new continent? And I thought I was shallow.

'So we'll see you later.' He's dragging me by the elbow again, causing me to knock over a box of lace g-strings. Anyone else would be embarrassed, if only due to the contents of the box, but Harry carries on undeterred like it was a box of paper clips or something equally as mundane.

'Do you mind not being so aggressive?' I shirk my arm from him.

'Shut up Niamh. Starbucks now.' He barks at me as we exit the shop.

'Not if you don't say please first.' I stand still with my hands on my hips.

'Please can we go to Starbucks?' He smiles at me fakely.

'So are you going to tell me what that was all about?' I ask when we sit down.

'Are you going to tell me why you are always so difficult?' He counters, an attempt to avoid answering my question.

'Why aren't you at the zoo anyway?' It seems like an obvious place for him to want to hang out since it is full of other monkeys and the like. Plus how can Louis possibly be surviving without him?

'I am not going to the zoo or Seaworld.' He says forcefully like I just asked him if he was a pro genocide or something. 'I happen to think keeping animals captive for human entertainment is unbelievably cruel; if you knew what the conditions in those places were like you would never visit.'

'That's why I didn't.' I point out to him, although the idea of Harry being a tree hugging animal rights activist is as surreal as him needing an inhaler.

He's still ranting, shaking his head repeatedly, a motion which causes a loose strands of hair to keep swooshing across his face.

I note that Harry and I have the same hairstyle today, a messy bun, which when you think about it is weird in all kinds of ways. The worst part is that his looks better than mine, like it was styled that way deliberately yet effortlessly all the same, whilst mine, why it has more of the spirit of a crows nest to it, all twigs and muddy poo. Yet with Harry there's something about the way his ponytail contrasts with the strength of his jaw line that is striking, tough but soft at the same time.

Get a grip Niamh, what am I thinking, first of all I'm willing to lie for him and now I'm back to over analysing his hairdo.

'What are you staring at?' He looks at me, as confused as I am for staring in the first place.

'So why did you kiss Marty if you don't like her?' I ask, knowing it will make him defensive, a mood which I am comfortable with.

'I do like her, she's gorgeous, and I don't know, she was there I guess.'

She was there he guesses?

'So if she's gorgeous then why were you running away from her?'

'I don't know.' He gulps down hard on his caramel frappacino, 'but shut up about it okay!'