Always

Chapter 5

My mother had made a simple meal of spaghetti, salad, and garlic bread. She had the dishes spread out on the table, set for three. "No dad again?"

"No, he is in Phoenix for work, remember Jo? I swear I told you."

"Must have forgotten..." I mumbled. My father traveled a lot for work, and was subsequently almost never around. I often lost track of where he was or even when he was going to be home.

"This looks great, Ms. Sanders," Harry said politely, saving me from saying anything more. I smiled at him gratefully.

"Oh please, Harry, call me Emily! And thank you," she beamed at him, motioning for us to sit down. Harry sat next to me as we pulled out chairs across from my mother. "So, Harry, tell me about yourself."

"Erm... well I'm Harry Styles. And... I don't know." I found myself chuckling again at his adorable awkwardness. He couldn't even come up with something to tell my mother about himself.

"Well Harry Styles, what do you like to do?" she probed.

"Um, I like to read... listen to music... play guitar some. I have a boat," he tried. I set my elbow on the table and rested my head on my fist, gazing at him with smiling eyes. The reading thing didn't really surprise me, and everyone liked listening to music, but I had no idea he played guitar, or that he had a boat. My eyes were drawn to his fingers, again. Upon closer inspection, I could see that he had calluses on the tips of his fingers, proof of what he just said. My mother nodded at him, encouraging him to keep going.

"I've been sailing since I was little. I used to go with my dad all the time but haven't gone since he died," he continued. Surprise struck my features. His father was dead? Now that he said it, I vaguely remembered hearing about that when we were freshman. I remember hearing about the kid in our grade, just a normal student like everyone else, whose father died in a car accident on the interstate. It wasn't until right now that I made the connection that it was him. My heart beat a little harder for him, sad for this beautiful, sweet, shy boy whose father died; this boy who eats lunch alone in the library and gets shoved into lockers in the hallway.

The rest of dinner passed with my mom quizzing Harry about various aspects of his life and him answering her politely. Every once in a while he'd ask her a question, and she'd beam at him, pleased to have a turn in the conversation. I'd chime in with a few words, but mostly sat observing Harry interact with my mom. The longer they talked, the more at ease he seemed to get. His smiles came more frequently, and his hands stopped fidgeting.

It was amazing the transformation I could see in him from just this afternoon at school to now. He was a completely different person once he relaxed a bit. It was nearly nine by the time we realized how late it was and figured we should wrap it up. We stood up from the table and Harry started gathering plates, reaching across me to grab mine. His arm lightly grazed mine and he blushed. "Sorry," he mumbled.

I grinned at him. "It's fine, Harry. Thank you."

He nodded and headed toward the kitchen, laden down with plates. My mother snuck a glance across the table at me. "Oh Jo, he is wonderful!"

"Mom relax, we're just partners," I said, blushing for some reason.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I saw that look," she smirked before joining Harry in the kitchen. My mother loved to pry and read into things, always nosing about my business even when there was nothing to be butting into. I was left alone in the dining room, staring at the now empty table when I felt him come back in the room.

"Um, it's getting pretty late... I should probably head home," he said, standing a few feet away from me. I nodded.

"Okay. Let's get your stuff," I agreed, slightly disappointed. We headed back up to my room, where he began to pack up his things. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No, your mom is really nice," he said, his back to me. He stood up straight and swung his bag over his shoulders and looked me in the eye, lips together and eyebrows raised.

"I'll walk you out," I said reluctantly. He nodded and walked past me as I stood in the doorway, our shoulders brushing together. His eyes skittishly avoided mine again as he headed down the stairs and I followed him to the door. When we reached the door, he started to put on his shoes, much smoother this time than when he took them off. "So I have to work tomorrow, but want to do this again Wednesday?"

"Um, yeah sure," he said, absent-mindedly rubbing the back of his neck. My eyes were once again drawn to his hands, nimble as they scratched his skin. He looked down at the floor then back up at me. "I'll see you later."

"Bye, Harry," I said as he opened the door and slipped outside, a smile plastered on my face. I shouted a goodnight to my mom and headed back upstairs to my room. As I flopped back onto my bed, all I could think about was Harry. I was fascinated by him. I wanted to know more about this strange, quiet boy with an awful tragedy in his past. Was that why he was so quiet, or had he always been like that? What other aspects to his life were there? What was his family like? I wanted to know it all.

My mind was reeling with thoughts of Harry all night as I got ready for bed and tried to fall asleep. Lying in bed proved to be difficult, however, because I couldn't wait for class in the morning so I could see him. After what seemed like ages, I finally drifted off to sleep.