One Thing Led to Another || Harry Styles OU

Part One

O C T O B E R

I have a little bit of a crush on Harry Styles. I was brought to that conclusion on a bright sunny day about a year ago, when I couldn't stop smiling after he left. I could lie to you about it, as I do to my friend Amy, who asks me about him every two days. But I reckon we should make that clear from the start.

It isn't like I planned it. I swear it just happened. In fact, if we're going to blame someone, we should blame him. The guy is just too nice (and handsome, if I'm being totally honest) for his own good. It was him who walked into Memory Lane like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he had been coming into this very vintage store since he was little and was just making yet another visit.

Let me tell something, he hadn't. Because if he had, I'd known. And if I knew, I wouldn't have been taken by surprise and acted like a fool.

Memory Lane is my aunt's pride and joy. She opened the store when she was thirty years old, with a toddler to care for and no job in sight. I've always admired her for having the courage to do something by herself, with no guarantee it would work out and, if we're honest, a very high risk of failure. Fortunately, she was successful and now, twenty years later, she's thrilled to have me help out on afternoons so she can take care of her grandson, Max (who's the happiest and cutest child in earth and, also, my godson).

Right. Back to Harry.

What I mean is, if he had been coming in, my aunt would've told me. She's a huge X Factor fan and has known about him since he was on it. Also, Danny Jones from McFLY once came in and she talked about that day for months, repeating over and over again how awesome it was that her store had the same name as one of their songs. I already knew that, as my first concert was one of theirs, so I just pretended to be surprised for as long as I could to keep her enthusiasm going. The point is, she would have raved about it and I would have been prepared.

Instead, on that rainy day in early 2016, I had my nose buried in a book and a pencil pressed hard to my forehead (I am, unfortunately, sure of that because it's my thing – I've been studying like that since I was a child) for about fifteen minutes before I realized there was someone else in the store. Granted, I only noticed because he cleared his throat to get my attention. When I looked up, he was closer than expected and I was startled for a second, which resulted in a frightened little jump, an oh sound, and my pencil falling on the floor with a loud thud. Harry was too nice to laugh at me, apologizing instead for being too quiet (that's what I mean when I say he's too nice), and I probably blushed as red as humanly possible. I don't even think my reaction had anything to do with his celebrity status. No, it was honestly because he was the most gorgeous human being I had ever laid my poor eyes on and, thus, I wasn't prepared for the impact.

Oblivious to my racing heart, Harry proceeded to ask me if we happened to have any old Rolling Stones tour t-shirts and I could have cried when I told him we didn't. He didn't seem too bothered, though, and proceeded to wander around the store, telling me one of his friends had recommended Memory Lane and he was glad they did. I probably muttered something affirmative (which I do not have any memory of) and he found a few knick knacks to buy. That day, he said goodbye with a smile and I probably didn't say a coherent sentence until the day after.

That was how my little infatuation began and, to be honest, I didn't even notice until I realized I was looking forward to seeing him again. A few months later, after following him on Instagram and half believing he wouldn't ever come back, I found a t-shirt from The Rolling Stones 1975's tour of the americas and saved it religiously anyway, just in case.

With a recent haircut, Harry came back to Memory Lane five months later, when my hope had long died.

From that moment onwards, he kept coming back when I least expected him to.