Wrong Number [2018] Harry Styles

11. safe [narrated]

Am I supposed to trust Harry?, I wonder, standing up from the stool and looking for my ex friends in the crowd.

I already sent Harry my location, knowing how dangerous it could be. I actually have no idea who he is, I just know his name and his zodiac sign, which I can't do much with if the police asks who the hell kidnapped me. I guess I wouldn't be alive to tell anyone anyway.

But I'm drunk and upset, I just want to get out of here.

Although I want to convince myself I'm fine with it, the weight of anxiety sits in my belly.

Monica's head pops up in the middle of the dancing crowd as she approaches me. She sees my intention to leave and hurries up to meet me next to the bar stools.

"You're leaving?" She asks with a worried look.

When she invited me, she was genuine and friendly, but she probably didn't think of how I would feel watching my ex kissing my ex friend, who he cheated on me with.

"Yes," I say while nodding at the same time, "Thanks for inviting me, though."

"Is someone picking you up? I know you don't have a car and I don't want you to walk home all alone."

"Don't worry," I smile trying to look calm, "A friend is picking me up."

"Is it safe?"

The doubting increases.

I can tell her, but what would she do about it? She is one of the many friends that chose Jaden's side of the story, it doesn't feel like she would do much, if she even cared.

"Yes," I reply. "Can I share my location with you? Just to be safe." I shrug one shoulder.

"Okay," she looks at me warily. After we make sure my live position is shared, she smiled awkwardly at me. "Well, see you, I guess."

In a drunk haze, I shrug her like we might not see each other again and say goodbye, heading to the exit door right after.

It is 1 a.m., so as soon as I step out of the club, I notice the freezing cold coming my way. I try to get some warmth by hugging myself and shrinking in my place, but it isn't doing much. In front of me there is a really long queue of people waiting to get in the club, so I walk to the side of the street, where everyone can still see me if someone tries to hurt me.

By the road there is a black jeep parked and a tall man comes out of it, looking for something. Someone.

I know I should approach him, in case he doesn't know exactly who he is picking up. Harry only could've told him I'm wearing red.

Terrified and cold, I cross the road to the other side, the man's eyes on me.

"Ariel?" the man asks raising his eyebrows.

He seems to be between the ages of thirty and forty, he has greying hair and a friendly smile.

"Yes. Chad?"

"The one and only," he says jokingly, probably seeing the fear and doubt in my face. "Harry sent me to pick you up."

I nod nervously and sigh shrugging. Whatever.

Monica has my location. Friends or not, she would check on me until I confirmed I was home, photo included.

I get in the car after the man opens the back door for me. The seats are so freaking comfortable I almost moan, if it wasn't for the fact that I am getting in a stranger's car, trusting someone I texted for two weeks.

Maybe Chad could tell me more about him. Or maybe he was the actual Harry.

"So you're, like, Harry's driver?"

"Yes, I am", he replies, starting the car.

I have so many questions that I can't even pick one.

But what if this is all fake?

"Ok, uhm, Chad," I say in a low tone, kind of nervous. He looks at me through the rearview mirror. "You know, since I was little everyone trusts me. I'm even majoring in Psychology now, I will be harboring people's secrets for a job." I smile confidently, but when Chad returns a doubting expression, I realize I should be more straightforward. "What I'm trying to say, Chad, is that I can be trusted."

When I'm nervous I tend to talk unnecessarily and try to joke to change the tone of the conversation, which is what I feel myself doing now.

"So, the question is," I talk again, thinking immediately that Chad could laugh at me, "is Harry the actual Prince Harry?" Maybe after laughing at my ridiculous question he spits out information. Anything.

Chad smiles trying to contain a laugh, and then looks at me with slightly frowned eyebrows.

"You don't know who he is?"

I shake my head, keeping my eyes on the driver through the rearview mirror.

"At all?" He asks emphatically.

I shrug. "All I know about him is that his name is Harry and his zodiac sign is Aquarius."

Chad laughs again, but still keeping his composure. This might really be his job for Harry.

"He's a good guy, that's all I can tell you," he concludes, making me feel like the conversation is over.

Crap, I missed my opportunity.

"Yes, despite the fact that he can't tell me who he is, he is a nice guy," I say looking at my lap, nervous. That last part was a little creepy.

The driver doesn't say anything else, he just asks where he must take me, and even though I mumble nervously the address for not realizing before, I manage to tell him. Then I regret it, because now Harry and his driver know where I live.

I don't remember drinking those many shots to absolutely ignore common sense.

I take my phone out of my purse and dial the emergency services number right after Monica to continue checking on me for a few more minutes, just in case something goes wrong.

However, I feel stupid when I see my house right in front of me.

Maybe I should have actually trusted Harry.

"Thanks for the ride," I say to Chad before opening the door.

"Have a nice night, Ariel," he says before winking at me, not in a creepy way, but quite the opposite, friendly.

Chad is so nice. It would be a pity if he turned out to be Harry's hitman or something.

"You too, Chad."

I close the door and walk the path to my front door. When I look over my shoulder I notice Chad is still there, making sure I am safe —I hope. When he guarantees my safety, he drives away.

Once inside my house, I sigh in relief.

I could have been murdered, kidnapped or so many other terrible things, but I'm safe. I'm home.

I go upstairs to lock myself in my room, thinking about Harry and if he has texted me.

I didn't see any message while I was in the car, which makes me think that Chad is actually Harry. Maybe he kind of grew some attachment towards me and didn't want to leave me hanging by myself at that party, so he picked me up with an excuse.

I should spend all this creativity in something useful.

I change into my pajamas and lie on my bed face down, unlocking my phone to send Monica a text and picture of my room.

I can't help but smile when I see his text, forgetting about all my hypothesis and crazy ideas of who he really is.