Falling | h.s

eighteen

JANIE'S POV

"Janes, you look great. Step away from the mirror and call the Uber," Emma calls to me from her bed. I stood in front of the mirror, checking my appearance for the 100th time. I smooth my dress, wipe below my lip at a non-existent smudge. 

"There is no reason to be nervous," Zoey adds, sitting criss-cross in the armchair, flicking through a magazine. "It's just Harry."

"That's the point," I say, turning to face them. "It's Harry. The same Harry who I practically grinded with last night," I groan, reminiscing on the embarrassing memory. I woke up mortified. 

"Okay, that is a very dramatic interpretation. Y'all danced and almost kissed but you weren't grinding on him," Bella joins the conversation from the bathroom where she was doing her own makeup. 

"I know, but--"

"But nothing! Y'all are friends, coworkers. Y'all were drinking, dancing isn't a big deal. He's just thanking you for the work you've done," Emma attempts to calm me. I try to take deep breaths to calm my anxiety as I twist my ring repeatedly. 

"Stop twisting that ring! You are fine!" Zoey exclaims, hopping up from her chair to place her hands on both of my shoulders. She looks deep into my eyes with a determined look. "You are brilliant, Janes. He's just celebrating you. Let him." I nod, and inhale deeply again. We're just celebrating. 

"This is probably the last time you'll get to see him," Emma adds softly, unsure of how I'll take this information. "So, drink. Eat. Talk about anything you want to talk about it. And then let it go." 

Suddenly, it all hit me. I was leaving tomorrow. In a few weeks, this will have just seemed like a fever dream. Really, it all seems like some sort of sick joke. "Hey, come live your dream life for a week and then go back to the town you've always wanted to escape!" How do I just leave? I look back up at Emma who is studying my face with a concerned look. 

"You okay?" She asks, but we both already know the answer. 

"I just feel bad about leaving y'all again," I say quietly and Emma scoffs. 

"Janes. Harry Styles is cooking you dinner. At his house. We would be pissed if you didn't go. We've been together for a month, we're okay to share you for a few days," she grins and I feel a small weight being lifted off my shoulders. 

"Are you sure?" I start, "Because I can always call and cancel."

"For the love of God, Janie. I'm calling you an Uber right now and you better get your sweet ass in there," she groans before pulling out her phone. 

Five minutes later I'm being shooed out of the door in the flood of compliments. I try to fix my hair again and Zoey swats my hand before Emma physically leads me out of the room. They wish me luck, tell me they love me, and I'm on my way. 

The Uber ride was short but peaceful, and I do my best to regulate my breathing. This is the last time you're going to see him, I remind myself, hurting my own feelings in the process. Soak it all in, because after tonight, the rest of your life is going to be painfully mundane. 

The next thing I know, I'm standing on his doorstep, mustering up the courage to knock on his door. His house alone was intimidating; I don't know if I've ever even seen a house as gorgeous as his. You can do this. It's just dinner. It's just Harry.