A Single Daffodil [Harry Styles]

His Dream Journal.

"Vita, I've been meaning to tell you something that's very important." Lebron James leaned onto both of his elbows on the table between us, holding a very serious expression on his face. He held his hands in the form of prayer as he rested his lips against his index fingers. "It has come to my attention that you don't know you're beautiful."

"WOW! Good one!" I exclaimed, jerking my head back while the rest of the guys at the table broke out in laughter. Chris Bosh almost spat out his drink and Dwayne Wade was covering his howling laughter with his napkin. "You're all jerks!"

I knew it would happen eventually. The teasing and stupid One Direction jokes at my expense from my three, nonbiological, professional basketball playing, "older brothers" --or so they claim to be, anyway.

It was a Friday night, and it was exactly four weeks since our victorious win at the NBA Finals. At this point, it was practically tradition to have a celebratory dinner at the luxurious AltaMare, a seafood restaurant that sits right on the bay of South Beach. It was my dad's favorite place to celebrate, mostly because it meant he could have an endless amount of crab cakes, but also because the restaurant insists on shutting down the whole place for our celebration. The dinner was a chance for the whole Miami Heat organization to enjoy our victory together with friends and family. Sophia was my only plus one for tonight, since Jayden's flight back from Los Angeles didn't land in Miami for another two hours--it was officially preseason for Jayden, meaning he was going to be flying all around the country for the next three months before he goes into the TransWorld Motocross competition in Switzerland. It's also been two weeks since Sophia and I have seen him, meaning it's been two weeks too long since the three amigos have been reunited. I hated it.

Savannah's silver and gold bangles made a loud Clink! as she slapped the back of her hand against Lebron's chest.

"Stop that!" She scolded him, her perfectly plucked eyebrows scrunched together as she glared up at him. Lebron, who was still giggling like a little school girl, held his hands up in surrender.

Savannah rolled her eyes at her fiance and looked over at me. "Ignore them, Vita. I think you two are adorable."

"I do too!" Gabrielle, Dwayne Wade's girlfriend, leaned past Dwayne to blind me with her bright, pearly white teeth. "Where is he, anyway? I was looking forward to meeting him."

It was no secret that Harry and I were dating. Thanks to E! News, and just about any other news outlet in the world, everyone on the entire planet knew Harry Styles was dating the Miami Heat Coach's daughter. Okay, maybe not everyone on the planet, but fuck, it sure felt like it was everyone. Suddenly, I was the most popular girl in south Florida. Friend requests on Facebook were coming in left and right and everyone I've met in the past eighteen years was e-mailing/texting me about how they saw me on television (which was always followed by the 'so what have you been up to? maybe we should hang out more!'. Which was funny. Like, really funny.). I even had to take down all my information on Facebook, like how I work at Jane's Flower shop after hordes of young girls started flocking the store to get pictures of me. And because all of that wasn't enough, I even learned last week, thanks to Sophia the all mighty Social Media queen, that there are fan pages of me on Twitter and Instagram. I didn't even have Twitter or Instagram.

It was insane.

I felt like Mia Thermopolis from Princess Diaries after everyone found out she was a Princess, except my situation was way worse. I didn't get a tiara, Julia Andrews wasn't my Grandmother, and no one bought me a cute blue Mustang. No, no. I got the psychotic paparazzi hiding in Mrs. Baker's bushes across the street from my house (which was driving her crazy, by the way), reporters asking my dad how he felt about the whole thing, excessive heckling and intruding texts from people who suddenly found me appealing, and let us not forget! The incredibly angry, aggressive and relentless One Directioners.

Did you know that death threats are still a thing? Oh yeah. They're still a thing alright.

But you know what? For the most part, I didn't care. I really didn't. I didn't care that my private life was now completely exposed or suddenly something that everyone wanted to unmask. The point I'm trying to make is, I'm happy. I'm really happy. I think of Harry's cute little nose, and his adorable laugh every time he finds me funny, I feel the butterfly wings flutter against my stomach and my heart lodge itself in my throat.

"Yeah, where is Loverboy anyways?" Dwayne draped his arm across Gabrielle's chair as he leaned back. He was wearing a black Hugo Boss suit, with a matte black Rolex watch to match. "Afraid to hang around a couple of NBA Champs?"

"Oooh, tell 'em!" Lebron added with a snicker.

I snorted. "Oh, get over yourselves. You're all a bunch of sissys off the court." I ignored Chris Bosh's noise of protest and Dwayne's shocked expression. "He's in the studio recording. The last thing he wants to do is hang around you Lame-Os."

Lebron gasped, whipping his head around to Dwayne. "You hear this girl? Lame-Os!?"

"I KNOW this girl didn't just call us a couple of Lame-Os!" Chris Bosh exclaimed. "You're really asking for a premium nuggie to the head, Spoel'."

Just as I was about to karate chop Chris's arm away from my perfectly styled hair, my father appeared behind me and Sophia. He placed a hand on both of our shoulders and gave a small squeeze. I looked up and offered him a small smile. It was the first time I saw him tonight.

"What kind of trouble are you hooligans getting into now?" My dad joked, quickly dropping down to plant a kiss on the top of my head.

"They started it!" I exclaimed as I warded off Chris's fighting arms again. "I think it's time to trade some players for next season, dad."

Dwayne gasped, giving me an incredulous look. "Damn, Vita! Tell us how you really feel!"

I pushed my chin out, giving him a cheeky grin.

"Thanks for letting me come to your celebration, Mr. Spoelstra!" For the first time tonight, Sophia put her phone down. She'd been too busy texting Niall to even acknowledge any conversations all night.

"Of course, Sophia." My dad answered. "You're family!"

I quickly reached for my glass of champagne and took several sips, hoping this was enough to keep my mouth shut. Otherwise, I was going to tell my dad just how rich that statement was, especially coming from him.

You see, I was a little peeved with my dad. While I know his whole life and career is devoted to basketball, he hasn't reached out to Grandpa Gene or me in weeks. I typically don't hold it against him because I'm used to his lack of fathering in the past couple of year due to how busy he was. But these past couple of weeks, he chose to do everything else but try to see me and Grandpa Gene. I had to find out from the tabloids that he was taking girlfriend #4 of the year on vacation to Cabo with a couple of other friends from work last week. I was angry because he didn't know what family was. He ignored his family. His career came first and Grandpa Gene and I came last.

"Don't hold it against him, Vita." Grandpa Gene encouraged me the morning after I found out about his little Cabo vacation. I was idly doodling on a spare sketchbook in Grandpa Gene's sunroom as I ranted on about how my dad deserted us. Grandpa Gene was painting at his usual easel, letting me go on until my voice was hoarse and my mouth was dry. When I finished, he calmly responded. "You have to remember that your father didn't just sign up for a coaching job. He adopted a whole basketball team and an organization. He hasn't forgotten about us. He just has an even bigger family to worry about."

I had to admire my Grandpa's optimism, but I couldn't exactly push away the feeling of abandonment. Sometimes, it didn't feel like Eric Spoelstra was my dad. We never did father-daughter things together, like watching a movie or talk on the phone. Every time I saw him, he was always too occupied with coaching and if he wasn't coaching, he was planning. His whole life was completely devoted to basketball. I had to accept the fact that he'll never be a typical dad in a traditional sense a long time ago, but it still hurts when I think about it. I always tell myself I can't resent him for his successful career, even if I am craving a traditional father-daughter relationship.

At least I'll always have Grandpa Gene to fill that void.

After my dad finished catching up with the group I was sitting with, his assistant coach, Chris, called him over to make a speech before the dessert came out. I sighed and sat back in my chair, lazily clapping along with everyone else after Chris introduced my dad at the front of the room.

I tried to focus on whatever kind of motivational speech my dad had up his sleeve tonight, but I was getting too distracted by my vibrating phone that was concealed in my clutch. I quickly lowered the phone into my lap and unlocked the home screen to read the text.

That dress looks incredible on you.

Before I could even finish reading that text, another one came in from the same number.

But it would look much better on my hotel room floor instead.

My jaw dropped and my cheeks immediately flushed. I lifted my head and scanned the room, trying to find the cheeky boy who sent the texts. He wasn't supposed to be back from the studio for another two hours, so you can imagine my surprise when I saw his silhouette leaning against the wall by the entrance to the restaurant. His arms were folded across his white t-shirt, and his black skinny jean-covered legs crossed at the ankle. A huge, satisfied grin was plastered on his face.

"I'll be right back," I whispered to Sophia as I quickly lifted my napkin and clutch from my lap and slipped away from the table.

I started shaking my head with a huge grin as I approached Harry.

"What are you doing here!?" I whispered excitedly when I reached him. "I thought you were going to be stuck at the studio for another two hours!"

"We finished early." Harry pushed himself off the wall and reached for my hand, pulling me into him and planting his lips softly on mine. Even the simplest kiss from him made my knees weak and my heart race. When he pulled away, he was smiling down at me, his eyes bright. "Thought I'd surprise yeh."

"Mission accomplished." I grinned at him. "Wanna get out of here?"

"'Course. Won't your dad mind though?" He nodded in the direction behind me. I turned around to see that my dad was still yapping on about something basketball-related to the entire room.

I turned back to Harry and shook my head. "He won't even know I'm gone." I started pulling him towards the doors to the parking lot. "Come on, I want to go make out in your car."

Harry moaned, easily letting me tug him out of the restaurant. "You're dangerous when you get like this."

Unfortunately, we didn't get the chance to do much of anything in his car except reverse out of the parking spot and drive, thanks to the rude and demanding paparazzi's waiting outside the restaurant. I struggled to fasten my seatbelt in place with all the blinding spots in my eyes after one of the cameramen pushed the camera right into the passenger side window.

"God, they're worst than mosquitos," I commented when we finally pulled out onto the main road. I jokingly squinted my eyes as I blindly reached for Harry. "I can't see anything. Where's Harry? What the--is that a nose? No, wait. An ear?"

I grinned when Harry's laughter echoed around the car. He swatted my hands away and started to moan. "Vita! I'm driving!"

I giggled, placing my hands back in my lap. "So, what's the word? I know we've gotten frozen yogurt like four times this week already, but I wouldn't exactly hate it if we stretched it to five times before Sunday."

"I was just about to ask you if you wanted to!" Harry replied. "Froyo, then my place?"

"God, yes. Yes so hard."

Harry laughed at my reaction and turned onto the road where Pinkberry was located.

Because it was a little past nine pm, Pinkberry was practically empty when we got there, save for the family of four tucked away in the back corner. Harry and I have been here so many times in the past month, that picking our froyo and toppings had become second nature. I didn't even have to think about what I was getting. Large cup, chocolate flavored yogurt, peanut m&ms, gummy bears, two cherries, and a whole lot of cheesecake pieces. The ratio of toppings was unrivaled, and I never switched it up after I conquered my technique of frozen yogurt perfection. Harry, on the other hand, changed his frozen yogurt combination every time we went. He didn't like 'uniformity', as he puts it. He liked picking at random and going with the flow. It drove me crazy because I couldn't understand how someone could be so apathetic about froyo.

This time he picked strawberry yogurt and oreo pieces, kiwi, Reese's mini buttercups, and corn flakes as toppings.

Harry laughed at the vomiting noise I made when we got back into his Range Rover.

"Judge me all you want, Vita, but life is all about trying new things." Harry defended his froyo concoction of gross. "You can't have chocolate flavored froyo for the rest of your life, you know."

"I can and I will!" I exclaimed, scooping out a huge chunk of yogurt and peanut m&ms and shoving it into my mouth. It made a satisfying crunch.