A Love Like Ours

Chapter 8

"Harry!" voices called, even though I had already stopped, even though I'd been signing things and taking photos for several minutes.

It had only been a matter of time.

Someone held their phone up in front of my face. I could do no more than look into the little lens at the top before it was gone again, a picture taken. Another and another and another.

I tried to walk, tried to keep moving even as they continued to crowd around me. But the small group that had gathered was relentless, rushing in front of my steps, holding up phones to block my vision, and I didn't see any way out of it other than to stop for each picture, to dole out hugs, and just keep pushing forward.

"Harry, please!" A breathless voice called, and I just wanted it to be over. This wasn't the first time I'd been caught out by myself, but it was the first time I was caught feeling like my heart was beating off-kilter somewhere outside my chest.

I had to get out of sight. But I was too far from the hotel. And I didn't trust them not to follow me into a store or restaurant. My only real hope was hailing a taxi, but it was difficult even getting to the street.

"Harry, I love you so much," a girl said. My eyes went from the endless stream of cars shooting down Fifth Avenue to her. She was crying.

It still shocked me to see people cry over me.

"Thank you," I said, and gave her arm a squeeze. It wasn't hard to mean it.

But then another phone was shoved in my face, and I stopped, my jaw clenching a little bit, and waited as whoever he or she was took a picture.

Inch by inch, I made it closer to the curb, and as I raised my arm in the air, the crowd filling in all the space around me, I hoped with a nervous wrench in my gut that a taxi would notice me. Anxiety started to set in by the moment, as the people around me continued to grab at me, turning me for pictures without even asking, and telling me they loved me as they pulled at my sleeves. And no one was stopping. Not one car.

But I kept my arm up, even as their grabbing and pushing and desperation began to wear on me, I kept it up and prayed that luck would be on my side tonight.

"Harry, please, could you say hello to my friend?"

"Harry, I love you! I love you so much"

"Harry, please..."

"Harry."

"Harry -"

I was almost there, almost at my boiling point, when a taxi pulled up several feet away, letting someone else out. I booked it, the crowd around me keeping pace, but luckily, the driver spotted me and decided to wait.

"Thank you all," I said, edging away from the people and closer to the idling car. "Thank you."

I grabbed the handle.

"Harry!"

"Have a good night everyone," I said, waving once more at the crowd behind me, a bit stunned by the sheer amount of them. It was always difficult to tell when I was in the thick of it. My brain typically went into self-preservation mode, and that meant not taking stock of just how many people were surrounding me. Otherwise, I might actually panic.

But now, staring at the group of them—twenty-five to thirty strangers, women and men alike—I was just grateful it hadn't gotten worse, grateful that everyone was still safe. Including me.

I closed the door as I sat in the air-conditioned car and took a breath. The first real breath I'd breathed in about ten minutes, and it reeked of onions.