Forgive and Forget

Harry (present day):
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“Harold?” I gasped, finally finding my voice. I thought I saw some kind of emotion flash across his face but it was quickly replaced with a frown.

“It’s Harry, actually,” he said crossly. Harry. I thought. I wondered why he changed it. “And what should I call you, sweetheart?” Harry said, his cocky manner returning as he lazily looked me up and down.

My heart sunk as I froze in shock. He didn’t remember me. I had thought that maybe he would be hurt, or maybe not want to be friends again, but I thought that our past meant too much for him to just forget about it. Well, I thought, if the jerk doesn’t remember me, I sure as hell won’t be reminding him. I suddenly recalled that he had asked me a question and crossed my arms stubbornly. “I don’t really give a damn what you call me, as long as it’s not sweetheart,” I said coolly, walking away before he had a chance to respond.

I swiftly brushed past the mass of people headed to lunch, not wanting anyone to see my eyes brimming with tears. I couldn’t believe that the person who was once my best friend had turned into such a monster. I thought I knew Harold- I mean Harry- better than that. I couldn’t help but wonder what had made my Harold turn into such an asshole.

After quickly fixing my makeup in the bathroom mirror, I walked into the cafeteria, desperately looking for a familiar face. I was relieved to see Charlotte, a girl who I had met this morning in art class, sitting at a table across the room. I walked over and greeted her. She smiled at me and introduced me to her friends between asking me to sit down.

We chatted easily about school, and they asked me questions about New York. I was glad to find people that I got along with so quickly. The girl with red curly hair- Lucy I think- stopped abruptly in the middle of talking about some party this weekend to stare at something behind me. Her eyes grew wide with fear and surprise.

“Umm…Macy?” she gulped nervously. “Don’t look but… Harry Styles is staring at you.”

“Who?” I asked quickly, deciding to play dumb. I didn’t need anyone to know about my all too real past with Harold Styles. I turned around slightly, and sure enough Harry was boring his green eyes into mine with an intensity that both frightened and intrigued me.

“Macy, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Charlotte whispered seriously, prompting me to turn back towards her. I wonder if he was still looking at me. “And why not?” I breathed. “I mean…who is that guy?”

Charlotte sighed before answering me. “He’s dangerous, that’s all. He and his crowd are always partying or fighting, and I swear no one has ever seen him with the same girl twice.” I frowned, letting this new information sink into me. This didn’t sound at all like the sweet, sensitive best friend that I had left behind when I went to New York three years ago. I could feel the pain in my chest as I realized that it wasn’t the same. Harold was a totally different person. A person who had no idea who I was.

My mind returned to the present as Charlotte made me promise not to get mixed up with him, her friends nodding along with her. It was almost too easy to agree when I pictured Harry’s harsh words or penetrating stare. I admit that he intimidated me and I definitely didn’t want anyone – especially him - to find out about our history.

I spent the rest of lunch getting to know the sweet group of girls that I sat with, but my mind kept returning to Harry. How was it possible for someone to change so much? And why didn’t he remember me? I was pathetic. I was the one who rejected him that day in the trees, and now I was paying for it.

The rest of the day went by quickly, and I was excited to get to my last class, history. It was one of the subjects that I always did well in, and I was proud of myself for getting to the room a few minutes early and grabbing a seat near the front. I started to write in my planner, becoming absorbed in my assignments for the week. I didn’t even look up as someone sat in the seat next to me. That was my first mistake.

“Well, hello love,” I heard a familiar voice croon. I groaned, finally noticing my seatmate with his curly brown mop and black skinny jeans. “Please don’t. You’re annoying me,” I scoffed, trying not to eye the toned arms that showed through his shirt as he slowly took his jacket off. Harry chuckled, as if he had read my mind. “Ouch…” he said mockingly. “That hurt, babe.”

I rolled my eyes, and turned to the mostly full classroom, trying to spot another seat. “You know…if you want me to stop calling you sweetheart, all you have to do is give me your name.”
I sighed in defeat, finally meeting his eyes. “It’s Caroline,” I said hesitantly. If he didn’t even recognize my face, then he definitely would not remember the middle name that I hardly ever used.

“Ah, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Harry smirked. “Well Caroline…” he said making sure to draw out every syllable, “You’re coming with me to the party this Friday night,” he drawled confidently.

I actually snorted when he said this. I couldn’t believe him. I couldn’t believe that my ex best friend, who had once been in love with me, had totally transformed in three years into a cocky, pretentious pig who completely forgot about me and was now apparently hitting on a girl he knew nothing about?

I think I need some ibuprofen because this whole thing is giving me a headache.

Notes