I Do

Chapter 2

Chapter 2 *November 27, 2010*

-Arabella-

The familiar boy's eyes lock on mine, and I blink, soaking in that electric shade of green. His face is full and overjoyed, decorated with a brilliant smile that barely expose his dimples. The navy blazer he's clad in is just incredible and effortlessly stylish. In a word, he looks unbelievably... different.

I gape, my blue eyes widening, astonished at how drastically he's changed over just a few months.

The camera cuts away from his face back to the rest of the group, who are beaming as they belt out "Summer of '69". They're all quite fit, but I can't take my eyes off Harry.

Harry Styles, that odd, gawky boy who asked me on a date months ago. That odd boy who I scowled at and told I didn't fancy a bit. That odd boy who is now onstage surrounded by handsome lads while frantic girls scream in the audience. I'll admit it. I'm intrigued.

Growing bored, I shut the flat screen off and sink back into our black leather sofa. I'm still in shock of how different Harry seems. He was always a ladies man (though not attractive to me, since I have extremely high standards) but now it's magnified. As though he's unstoppable.

Grabbing my hot pink iPhone off the coffee table, I dial Hallie. There's no point in celebrating the fact that a famous guy asked you out if there's nobody to brag to.

On the third ring Hallie answers, "Hello?"

"Did you know Harry was famous?" I demand.

"Didn't everyone?"

"Not me. Well, he's in this boy band and they're all over the X-Factor," I reply giddily.

"I know," she informs me shortly.

"But remember, a few months ago, in the bakery? A famous person asked me out," I say, beaming.

"I know," Hal repeats. "Have you watched their video diaries?"

"Diary?" I wrinkle my nose. "Do boys even keep diaries?"

She heaves an exasperated sigh. "It's a way to talk to their fans. Look it up, they're hilarious. If you're not in love already, trust me, you will be."

"Mmmkaay," I answer offhandedly, inspecting my French manicure. Oops, there's a chip. I better fix that. "Listen, I have to go. Call you later?"

"Sure. Bye, Ar."

I scurry upstairs and apply a fresh coat of nail polish before settling in at my crisp white desk and popping open my laptop. It's about a half a decade old and frustratingly slow.

I impatiently fidget with the mouse, glaring daggers at the screen. I've begged for a MacBook Air for ages, but my parents are convinced an iPhone is enough technology. Chances are, it'll take until next Christmas to persuade them, but I'll be able to, no doubt. If I've learned one thing about myself, it's that I get my way, no matter what.

Finally, my user flashes onto the screen and I double-tap Internet about twelve times. When it loads, I type in YouTube.com and groan after three minutes of waiting. At long last, I click on search. 'one direction video diary'. A video of five boys beaming at the camera pops up. Recognizing Harry's dashing new look, I play it.

After about two minutes of listening to the boys blather about moving into some house and a performance, I roll my eyes in boredom---Hallie thinks this is entertaining?---and scroll down to the comments.

Jacqueline297: MARRY ME. HARRY? ZAYN? PLEASE?

Directioner4life7: they're so hot it kills me.

Brokenhearted6: I would love to have a harry.

kneirns: why are you all so adorable?

Hmm. Looks like Harry's more desirable than I remember. Gazing at him, the way he smiles, half devilish, half charming, into the camera, I make up my mind.

Picking up my phone, I carefully click on contacts, using my fingertips in an effort not to smear paint across the screen. Chewing on my lip, I type H-a-r and his name appears. Harry Styles.

I bound across the room and leap onto my lavender duvet, snuggling into it. Inhaling deeply, I tap 'call'.

The phone rings repeatedly and just as I'm about to sigh in frustration and toss my phone to the floor, Harry's slow, deep voice says, "Hello?"

I grit my teeth, collecting all my confidence. Time to be at my best. "Hi, Harry? It's Arabella."

-Hallie-

I cradle the phone to my ear, numb with shock. Arabella chatters away happily, not suspecting that I'm not paying a speck of attention to her. "Harry... wants you to get together?" I squeak.

"Of course," she replies confidently. "I called to congratulate him and we started talking, and he-"

"What about that day in the bakery?" I interrupt. I mean, I would have expected him to blow her off, like I would do to bullies if I were a celebrity. That, in my opinion, would be one of the best parts of fame. I frown, practically hearing her scowl in return.

"We didn't mention it," she snaps defensively. "Obviously, it didn't affect him that much. And besides, a lot had been going on and I was in a bad mood that day, so you can't blame me."

Remembering the devastated look in his eyes, that's unbelievable. But, of course, love forgives and forgets; and in Arabella's case, every guy is 'in love'. Barf. I glare at the wall, wishing I could punch something. I settle for the stuffed pig Ara left behind after our last sleepover. Apparently Brandon, her ex, bought if for her.

Ar has a load of exes who lavished her with gifts. Necklaces, clothes, stuffed animals. Once, when she was dating a ridiculously wealthy boy from London, he practically cleared out Maybelline and sent it all to her because she mentioned how expensive make-up was getting. Now, I guess, the presents will be pouring in from Harry.

The pig's buggy eyes gaze up at me accusingly as I snatch it off my bed. Stupid pig. Stupid guys, stupid presents, stupid perfect Ara. "Well." Thump. "That's." Thud. "Great." Thwack.

"I know. He looks so good now, right?" she squeals. Clenching my teeth, I pummel the animal. Now? "What's that noise?"

"Um..." Without thinking, I toss the toy at Molly, who lounges on the floor. She sniffs it and begins chewing. "Molly's attacking a stuffed animal. So, um, are you two officially together?" Dear Lord, say no.

"Soon," she promises, giggling. "I've got to go. Mum's yelling at me for God knows what. Text me babe."

"Sure," I say halfheartedly, hanging up. I flop back onto my flowered pink comforter, sighing heavily. As I stare at the creamy white ceiling, my eyes begin to sting with tears.

I should have predicted this happening, of course. Ara's been stealing guy's hearts from the second I met her. She's strikingly pretty, effortlessly flirty, not to mention she radiates confidence, whereas I'm just her friend. The other girl. The girl guys would only pay attention to in the hopes I could win Arabella over for them.

Of course, I'm the one who compulsively watches the X-Factor, whose thumb is blistered from voting for those boys. I'm the one who cared for Harry before he was famous.

It's not fair, obviously. But life's not fair. The prettier girl is bound to be the princess, after all. And that's Arabella.

I trudge over to my dust-colored German shepherd, who's contentedly slobbering onto her new favorite chew toy. Penny the Pig is now mangled beyond repair, shredded into tiny pieces. Just like my heart.

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Hope you liked it. Vote and comment for EVERY chapter, if you like them. Love you all, my darlings!x

-Rosemary