27 (Harry Styles)

001. LATER !

"LATER!" The word. The voice. The attitude. I'd never heard anyone use "later" to say goodbye before. It sounded a bit too harsh, short, and dismissive. It was spoken with the veiled indifference of people who may not care to see or hear from you ever again. 'Later!' Meant that you simply did not care. It meant you didn't like the person enough to even put in the minimalistic effort of offering a goodbye. A fair departure. Later. I hate the word. The voice, and the attitude that follow it.

It's one of the main things I remember about her, and about that day specifically. I shut my eyes, say the word, and I'm back in the pizza parlor in 2010, seated next to a girl from Holmes Chapel, who was trying a bit too hard to sound American. Perhaps, that's where the phrase "later" had originated. All those years ago, I remember my every move very specifically. She had gotten up from the table, grabbed her handbag off of it and began to walk away from the table. "Later!" she called out, waving her hand.

"Wait!" I called out in response. She couldn't go yet, only because I simply didn't want her to. It might have started right then and there; the way her hair cascaded down the small of her back, and the way her grey sweater hugged the delicate skin of her collarbone. Whatever it was, I simply refused to let her leave me here. Something wanted me to make her stay, even if it was just for a little while. "What is it now, Harry?" she sighed, bending her knees with a reluctant smile as she wandered back over to the table and pulled out a chair.

"The night isn't over yet." I raised my eyebrows. She slumped backwards in the chair, letting her feet drag across the tiled floor beneath us. Suddenly I'm retrieving the pizza box we just ate out of, grabbing a pen out of my pocket, and sliding it across the table. Her brows furrow in confusion as she puts her phone onto the table, giving me her full attention. I liked it a whole more that way.

"What's this for?" she squinted, the color of her eyes disappearing as her eye shape grew smaller. I thought about what I was doing. What was I
doing? I needed to come up with something to make her stay, even if it was just for a few more minutes. Because after tonight, it would be months and months before I'd see her again. After all, I was a self proclaimed professional procrastinator. I slid the pizza box in front of her, and began to tear it open so that it was face open, the lid completely gone. I rapped the pen against the wooden table, thinking of how exactly I was going to word this.

Before I knew it I was talking. Is that even the right word? Rambling. A mess of speech is what escaped my lips. "Why don't we make a pact?" I blurted out. Perhaps I sounded a bit to eager. She furrowed her brows even more, despite the fact that I doubted she could. "A pact?" she retorted, tilting her head slightly and chewing on the side of her nail.

"Yeah, before I leave. I dunno. Just something to
do." I answered her with a charming grin, tilting my head to match hers. A smile immediately spread across her face. I rolled the pen towards her and watched her laugh as it rolled in the complete opposite direction. She used her foot to retrieve it from under the table, rolling it under the sole of her shoe then bending down to pick it up. She slid the cardboard towards herself. "Where do I sign?" She laughed.

"Hold on, damn. I need to write the contract first." I laughed heartily, matching her. She put her hands up in defense and leaned back into the chair, studying me as I wrote in the rules. "What exactly does this entail, by the way?" I heard her ask. I ignored her question and kept writing. I was almost done anyways. With a dramatic flick of the pen, I completed writing the "contract".

I drew a line and signed my name below the small paragraph, agreeing to the rules I had made. She took the box and pulled it towards her, laughing out loud as she read the message. "If we aren't married by the time we're 27, we have to marry each other. Deal?" She quoted the message I wrote. I raised my eyebrows and shrugged my shoulders with a smug grin.

"I just figured, since I'm leaving for the X Factor soon, might as well." I answered calmly. She smiled and teased me. "It's probably a decent idea. Your head will get too big soon anyways with all of this new fame, and you'll forget about me. Might as well have a contract while we're at it." She giggled.

It bothered me, however. It would be quite literally impossible for me to forget someone like her. I dismissed myself and nodded towards her with a sarcastic eye roll. "Just sign it." She swallowed and nodded, taking hold of the pen and glided it across the cardboard, signing her name next to mine. She dropped the pen onto the table and let it fall.

"Deal." she finished with a small smile. "Now, am I allowed to leave?" She giggled, also making me let out a small laugh. I stood up from my chair and followed her to the door, watching as she gathered her belongings. I snagged the ripped pizza box from the table, then watched as she stepped outside of the parlor.

I closed the door behind me and stepped into the cool England night, soaking in the comfort of my hometown for the last time. I moved closer to her and wrapped her into a tight hug, waiting for her to pull away before myself. She took a step back and put her arms to her sides, staring me up and down. She almost looked like she was going to say something sweet or heartfelt, but knowing her, she never would.

"Later, Harry."

Because if not later, when?