Gravity (A Harry Styles Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"'Happy birthday to you...'" we sing as Sydney sits in front of her birthday cake, the glow of the thirteen candles illuminating her face.

"'And many more on Channel Four...'" Dad sings jokingly. Mom elbows him. "Every time, John. Every single time."

"Of course," he replies. "I just have to."

Sydney looks hard at her melting candles atop her chocolate cake. "I don't know what to wish for," she whispers.

It's just us four, our little family celebration this Wednesday, Sydney's birthday. I give her a mischievous grin. "Wish for a taste in music!" I shout.

"Reagan," Mom chastises.

"I thought you would know what to wish for, like something lame like your Mexican crush or whatever."

"He's not Mexican!" Sydney cries.

"Reagan!" Mom says, her voice raising.

"Wish for whatever, or whoever you want, kiddo. You're only thirteen once," Dad tells her.

"Hurry before the candles melt!" I say. "Zayn doesn't have all day!"

Syd sends me a glare, then looks back down at her candles. "Okay, I've got it!"

*Sydney's P.O.V.*

"Okay, I've got it!" I exclaim as the idea pops into my head.

"Alright, go!" Reagan pushes. "Blow 'em out already!"

Mom gives me a loving smile and Dad pats my back. "Go ahead, Syd," he says.

I look down at the candles and take a deep breath, my goal still clear in my mind.

I wish for Karma for Reagan. Big time. I wish for her to eat her words.

I send Reagan a wicked grin and blow the candles out.

***

*Back to Reagan's P.O.V.*

"Yay!" Mom exclaims as she begins cutting the cake.

I'm pretty sure I have a panicked look on my face that reflects what my mind's thinking inside. Syd sent me a wicked, knowing grin right before she blew out her candles, and now I'm beginning to doubt that she wished for a better taste in music. I'm not saying that I actually believe those "make a wish" things come true, they never have for me, but the way she looked... I'm creeped out now. If she wished for me dead or something we need to have a serious talk. If I don't get stabbed by the cake knife by then.

After cake, we move to the living room so Sydney can open her presents.

She opens a few sent from relatives: gift cards, sweaters, etc. Then it's our family's turn.

"Okay, open the purple one first," Mom instructs.

Sydney peels off the wrapping paper, revealing a box. She opens that, and pulls out the pair of Miss Me jeans she wanted.

"Aww, I love these!" She exclaims. And so it continues, one by one, until she reaches my present.

"This one's from me," I tell her, handing her the tiny box. She eyes it and looks up at me, uncertain.

I nod at the box, and she rips off the paper.

"A guitar pick," Sydney frowns, disappointment evident on her face. She picks the wooden guitar pick up out of the box.

"You forgot something," I say, pulling the present out from behind the couch Mom and Dad are sitting on. I hand her a brand-new guitar with a big blue bow on the top. Syd's jaw drops.

"H-how did you-" she stammers.

"I saw you eying it that day you came to the store while I was working."

"B-but it cost-"

"I know what it cost, I'm the one who bought it," I smile.

"I-I can't believe it! This is awesome! But why did you spend so much on me?!"

"Because you're my sister," I explain simply.

She gives me a hug, and when she lets go, she slams my arm.

"Ow! What the hell?!"

"That's for spending over two thousand dollars on me, idiot. I still don't see  how you did it. You should be saving that money for college anyway."

I shrug. "Eh, two grand won't break the bank. It was for my sister, anyway."

"Alright, last present!" Mom exclaims.

I bite my tongue. The present that's gonna overshadow mine.

She passes the envelope to Syd, who gives it a look.

"Hey, the same thing happened with Reagan, and look what you just got!" Dad says. "Open it!"

"If it's two thousand dollars, I will kill you guys," Sydney threatens jokingly. "This is insane," she mutters.

"Open it, Syd!" Mom exclaims excitedly.

She tears open the envelope and pulls out the four tickets to see One Direction.

Her eyes widen so much that they look like they're about to pop out of her head. "EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!" She screams, jumping up and down.

Mom looks over at Dad. "I think we did well, John."

"I agree," he tells her.

I storm out of the room, taking the guitar with me.

***

"'Everyone has a secret, oh but can they keep it? Oh, no they-'"

"Hey," Sydney says, walking in and sitting down on my bed.

"Get out," I grumble.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Look, I know you're jealous-"

"I'm not jealous!" I exclaim.

She gives me a look. "But. Remember when you turned fifteen and you got tickets to see Maroon 5?"

"Yeah. And?"

"Do you even remember what I gave you for your birthday that year?"

"Of course I do!" I say. How could I forget?

"Then what did I give you?"

I pause, trying to remember. She's got me.

"Exactly," she says sadly.

"But you've already forgotten mine!" I whine.

"No, Reagan. I haven't. It's right in front of me. You were just playing 'Secret' on it."

"Whatever," I mumble, adjusting the strings on her guitar.

"You know that was my favorite gift, right? You know I've wanted you to teach me guitar for years now. No tickets to One Direction could ever change that."

"Really?" I say hopefully.

"Really. And I got you a bracelet, by the way."

"What?" I question, confused.

"A bracelet. For your fifteenth birthday."

I smile and point to the blue bracelet on my wrist. "Still got it."

She grins too, then takes the guitar out of my hands. "So teach me how to play this thingy," she demands.

"Okay, so you place your right hand here..."