Remember Me [harry styles] ✓

24 - Dallas and drivers

"Did they ever hold each other tight like us?"

Dallas/Fort Worth airport is heaving by the time I've pulled my suitcase off the conveyor belt. I'd been two kilos over my limit at check-in and had to part with a beach towel and wear my Collingwood hoodie instead of stash it. Usually I would have run through the contents of my case with Eve, but due to certain circumstances that wasn't an option. I'd spent days in the lead up to now, packing and unpacking and repacking. The contents of my case wasn't the problem. The problem was the upcoming considerable amount of time to be spent with Harry - time that would likely shape the future of our friendship.

I hurry in the direction of arrivals, scraping the wheels of my enormous case across the linoleum behind me. There's a driver waiting for me out there somewhere and I'm already cringing at the prospect of someone in a fancy hat holding a cardboard sign with my name printed on it. Harry's already at soundcheck, probably prancing around in another pair of flamboyant pants, so I'm being taken directly to the venue. And boy am I feeling all kinds of anxious at the prospect of seeing him. It's going to be the first time I've seen him knowing that a goodbye is not in the near future - and that alone makes my stomach somersault.

I push through a set of heavy double doors - towing my suitcase in right hand and trying to keep my backpack balanced on my left shoulder - and step into the clearing of arrivals. It's like that ending scene from Love Actually - with people rushing to greet one another, discarding their luggage on the floor to be reunited with their loved ones. And I can't help but feeling a small pang of sadness that Harry isn't here for us to do the same. I know the drama that would ensue - the swarming, shrieking fans and the flash photography. They'd probably reach him before I did. But still, regardless, the idea of running to him - of him swinging me around in his arms makes me smile giddily in a way that has people looking at me as if I've gone mad. And sure enough, tucked to the left hand side in an emerald suit with gold piping - that reminds me awfully of my home national colours - stands a man with a rectangle of card pressed up against his fingertips. It reads JUNI.  

I can imagine Harry now - insisting that my nickname be recorded and not my full name. The name that he gave me - the name that will confirm that this is happening. That this is really happening. I approach the driver, cheeks flushed, and give him an awkward wave. "I'm Juniper." I tell him. "Juni."

He smiles politely and offers me his hand to shake, which I do, except the combination of anxiety and excitement has me as a limp as a dead fish. "Lovely to meet you, ma'am. I'm John and I'll be your driver this afternoon." His accent is thick as he drawls his words and it hits me that I'm really not in Australia anymore. "Can I help you with your bags?"

"Uh - yeah, sure." I extend the handle of my suitcase out to him which he accepts immediately and then turns on his heel. I follow him through the airport, out of the exit and past the neverending row of taxis. It's warmer here than in Melbourne but it's also sticky - damp and humid. I suddenly feel like I'm wearing far too many layers in my AFL hoodie, and dread to think how John must be feeling under the thick material of his blazer and shirt.

He leads me further along the wall of the airport and I spot my reflection in the mirrored windows - I'm all flushed cheeks and bright eyes. My stomach is still hosting a gymnastics competition and my heart is beating fast enough to take flight. Within the hour, I'll be reunited with Harry. With my best friend. I've been waiting for this since the moment I opened those tickets.

John eventually comes to a halt in front of a sleek black car - the make of which I'm clueless of. The windows are tinted and there's a Dallas Cowboys charm hanging from the rearview mirror. I watch him haul my suitcase into the boot and then open the back door closest to me, gesturing with his free hand for me to climb inside. It's a surreal moment and I can't help wondering how long it took for Harry to become accustomed to private jets and chauffeurs.

"Thanks." I say and approach the back end of the car. I step around John - waiting patiently on the kerb with the stoic facial expression of the Queen's Guard - and swing my backpack off my shoulder and into the car. It lands with a thud.

"Ouch!"

What the hell?

I lower my head immediately so that I'm now eye-level with the vehicle's interior. There - perched on the cream leather of the furthest seat in a pair of pin-striped flares and cradling his right shoulder with his ring-adorned left hand - sits Harry.

"Harry!" I exclaim with my jaw hanging open. "What the bloody hell are you doing in here?"

John chuckles from behind me, quietly enough that I'm not sure I was really supposed to hear, and Harry's lips stretch into a wide grin. "Surprise?"

I throw myself into the vehicle and scramble across the seats until I can throw myself arms around his neck. Harry drops his shoulder and pulls me tight against him - laughing into my hair as I clutch at him desperately. "I thought you were at soundcheck?" I say when I've eventually leant away. He's wearing his tour sweatshirt again and his hair has been pushed off his forehead with a rolled orange paisley bandana. "I thought I was meeting you there?"

"And I thought you were a nonviolent individual?!" Harry exclaims, gesturing to his shoulder. He's painted his nails charcoal again. "You could have killed me with that bag!"

"Oh - quit whining." I grin and give his shoulder a poke. John shuts the door behind me and for a few short moments, the car horns and bustle of Dallas/Fort Worth is cut off - rendering Harry and I in complete silence. "I'm so pleased to see you," I tell him sincerely. "I was beginning to think today would never come."

Harry gives me his lopsided smirk. "Me too." He breathes. "Me too, Juni." We catch each other's eye and stay like that - staring at one another - until John opens the driver's side door and climbs in. I look away and shuffle across into my seat. There's a few seconds of awkward silence as we all plug our seatbelts in and John does the stereotypical driver adjust of the rearview mirror.

"Thanks for coming to meet me." I say when the car pulls away from the kerb. I keep my gaze on the tinted window, watching as the taxis are filled and replaced on a loop.  

"You didn't really think I wouldn't come and meet you, did you?" Harry asks in mock disbelief. "As much as I trust John here," John smiles in the mirror. "Some best friend I'd be if I let you ride with a stranger in a place you've never been before."

I turn my head and roll my eyes at Harry - but really I just can't find the words to tell him how perfect this is. I want to tell him how difficult the past few weeks have been - how Eve and I haven't spoken for so long and how my head's been a bit of a jumbled mess. I want to tell him that everything feels right now - everything feels settled and as it should be. But there's a lump in my throat and I'm not sure I'd be able to get the words out even if I wanted to.

"Hey - what's wrong?" Harry's eyes widen. "Is it the jet lag? Want me to drop you off at the hotel and then I'll come and get you before the show?"

I shake my head. Bless Harry, getting the completely wrong end of the stick. "I'm fine." I manage to tell him. "I just can't believe I'm really here."

It's not really a lie. Much like my "lie" about being unsure about what to pack on the phone weeks ago. Harry's bewildered expression relaxes into a relieved smile. "It's going to be great." He assures me. "It was my idea after all."

Way to ruin the moment, Harry.

"Ugh." I groan and roll my eyes for what feels like the millionth time in the mere ten minutes that we've been reunited.

Harry's infectious smile widens and he stretches his right hand across the middle seat until it's clasped with one of mine. And although not wanting to give him the satisfaction, I smile too, because in all honesty - it was a damn good idea.

author's note: Hey, remember me? Hope you enjoy :)  I've added a chapter at the beginning of the story which includes an aesthetic - check it out and let me know what you think!