"What do you mean you're scared?" I ask Harry as we step off the plane. "You've been around them for almost two years and you're scared to spend Christmas with them?"
"For the record, it's not two years until like, May. And yeah I'm scared! What if they don't like the presents I got them?" Harry asks, grabbing my hand.
"Relax, they're going to like them. I wasn't like this when we went to your mom's for Thanksgiving, was I?" I ask him and he smirks. Even though Thanksgiving in November is an American holiday, Harry's mom wanted us there more than anything. It was different for them, since they weren't used to celebrating it in November, but they did it for me. It was a chance for me to really get to know both Harry's mom (mum?) and Gemma. And just a week ago we flew there again to visit them, because we wouldn't be there for the Christmas holiday. Harry's mom, Anne, treats me just as a daughter now.
She got me multiple Christmas presents, mostly consisting of new clothes and accessories. The whole time we were there, Gemma kept saying how much she loved having me around, and how much she wished Harry would just "man up and propose already". Not that I'm slightly hoping for that. We're both nineteen, he's almost twenty, and I don't think that's too young. And we've been dating for almost two years. I think that's an appropriate time to decide that you want to get married.
"Almost." He says, kissing my forehead. I roll my eyes and bump my hip with his, making him laugh. The sound of screaming fans fill our ears, making Harry's smile disappear. "I love them, I really do. But they never leave me alone." Harry always says. He said it when we almost got mobbed in the airport in England, just a few days prior to now.
"Whatever, I was excited to see your mom and Gemma." I say and he squeezes my hand. Girls scream at us, both good and bad things. Harry stops to take pictures with a few of the fans, some even wanting me to be in them. It doesn't take long for the amount of airport security to double and soon we are being escorted away. "Look, there's Stevie!" I say, pointing to her. She is standing alone, scrolling through her phone, probably trying to ignore the sound of girls screaming.
I pull Harry by the hand over to her, finally letting go of him and tackling her in a hug. "Oh my heck Presley." she says as she hugs me. It's literary been months since I've seen her and my family. I had been busy with school, even though it was only a few hours away from home. When I wasn’t at school, I was visiting Harry, wherever he was.
One Direction’s tour had gone great, and I had visited them at a lot of shows when they were in the US, but when they weren’t here. I was too focused with school. Sometimes I would fly out to England to visit Harry and the boys, but that became difficult when they started touring in Australia. Luckily, in the past two months, we’ve spent more time together than we had been able to the first year we were dating—okay not really.
“How are you guys? How was England?” Stevie fires questions at us. She throws her arm around my shoulder as Harry grabs our suitcases.
