Chapter 35: Grape Soda
Harry’s POV
“Hey, Nell are you okay?” I walked into her room, seeing her lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone. It was ten at night, and her light was out, her face the only thing visible from the dim glow of the screen. After we got back from Nando’s that day, she had seemed off.
“Yeah, Harry, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
She sighed and threw down her phone, making the whole room dark. I was leaning against the doorframe, blocking the small amount of light coming from the hallway. “Yeah, Harry, I’m fine.” She repeated.
“Okay, fine. Well, Niall told me that it was your birthday the other day, so I wanted to—”
She sat up quickly, her eyes widening. “Harry, what day is it?” She asked in a wavering voice, sounding as if she was trying to stay calm. Before I could answer, she said, “It’s the 29th of June, isn’t it. Oh my god, Harry, what time is it?”
I glanced at my watch, frowning. “It’s 10:07.”
She jumped out of bed, walking over to me and flipping on the light switch. The look on her face was one of complete fear. “Oh no, no, no, I can’t believe I forgot, no, no.” I heard her start to cry.
“What’s wrong?” I walked over to her slowly. She was digging in her suitcase for something, and she pulled out a blue flannel button-down.
She didn’t answer, just kept babbling to herself. “No, no, no. The train left seven minutes ago. I can catch the next one but I won’t make it in time, I have to go to the store first, oh no, no, no, I can’t do this to him—”
I put a hand on her shoulder. She was scaring me at this point. “Nell, tell me what’s wrong.”
She shook herself free of me. “Harry, let go! Go away. I need to get home. I need to catch the next train.”
“Why do you need to get home? Nell, answer me!”
She pulled out a plastic Tesco bag and threw it on the floor next to the shirt, where it made a clattering noise. She kept digging in the suitcase, crying harder. “Oh, god, where is my wallet?” She eventually pulled it out and stood up, turning around to face me. Before she could push past me, I grabbed her shoulders and looked her right in the eye.
“Nell, tell me what’s going on.” I said, trying not to make my voice shake.
It seem to break her out of her daze a bit. “Harry, I have to get home. I’ll be back later.” She grabbed her bag and the shirt off the ground and ran past me out of the room.
“Nell! Come back!” I yelled as I followed her into the living room. She was just closing the door behind her. Without a second thought, I sprinted over there, grabbed my keys off the counter, slipped on the closest pair of shoes—Niall’s high tops—and followed her. She was waiting for the elevator, pacing back and forth, when I caught up to her. She wasn’t wearing any shoes, and there was a wild look in her eye. “What are you doing?” I asked from behind her, making her jump.
“I’m going to the train station, I have to get home, I can’t believe I forgot…” She started sobbing, now, putting her head in her hands. The elevator dinged and we wordlessly got into, me trying to process what was happening.
“I’ll drive you.” She looked up at me, her ice-blue eyes searching mine.
“Harry—look, you don’t understand. It’s far and I don’t want to trouble you—”
“I’ll drive you.”
She sighed. “Okay. I…I have to get there before midnight…” She seemed to have calmed down, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes were puffy, but otherwise, she just looked normal. I wanted to ask questions, but I knew that she wouldn’t answer either way, and there was no use trying for now.
We got to the ground floor, and she grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door. We were in a full sprint to the parking garage. I winced at the thought of her bare feet, so I slowed to a stop, and wrenched her back. “Harry, what are you doing, we have to get back—”
She was getting hysterical now. “You don’t have shoes.” I kicked off the ones I’d taken from Niall and pushed them towards her. I was just in socks.
She looked at me, as if deep in thought, and shook her head, sighing. “Harry, put them back on.”
“Either you wear them or I’m carrying you.”
She closed her eyes and slowly opened them, finally stepping into the shoes. I knew that they would be big on her, but it was better than nothing. We kept going towards my car (albeit at a slower pace, due to our footwear), and eventually hopped in. I checked my phone for the time before starting the time. “It’s 10:14. We’ll get back in plenty of time. Don’t worry, okay?”
She nodded. “Just drive, please. I just…oh, my god, I can’t believe I forgot…”
As I pulled out onto the streets, which were mostly empty thanks to the time of night and our location in a smaller corner of London, I decided to try to get some information out of her. “What did you forget?”
“Something I shouldn’t have.” I didn’t press any further, just nodded and kept my eyes on the road.

-1:30 later-
She was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, silent tears making their way down her face. “Stop in here. Oh, no, it’s 11:45.” She pointed at the Tesco that was over to our left. I made the turn, and she jumped out as soon as we were stopped, me following. We had hit an awful patch of traffic on our way out of London, so it had taken us and hour and half to get back. I could tell that she had been trying not to panic. She must have heard me following, because I heard her yell over her shoulder. “Harry, stay in the car, I just have to pick something up!”
I obliged and waited in the car. She hopped in five minutes later, carrying a bag. “Oh my god, it’s 11:50. Okay, pull onto this road…oh no, we’re not going to make it.” She started crying again.
“It’ll be okay.” I tried to keep my voice level, but in all actuality, she was scaring me. After six minutes of directing me around, through sobs, she had me pull over to the right. “Harry, this is it. I can still make it, I can still make it, I can.” She threw open the door and sprinted into the place. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She yelled, and somehow I knew that it wasn’t for me. She was clutching the bag that she’d brought from home and the one with her new purchases, and wearing the blue flannel. It was much too big for her, and obviously meant for a man. It flew behind her as she ran. I closed my door and sprinted after her, realizing just as I went through the gates that it was a cemetery. I gained on her until I was right behind, and she finally stopped at a gravestone.
Panting and crying, she threw herself on the ground in front of it. “Happy birthday, Greg.” She said to the headstone in front of her. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the time—11:59. “Oh my god, I made it.” Rifling through one of her bags, she pulled out a box of sharpies. She took one out of the package, and uncapped it, drawing a small line towards the top on the left. When I looked closer, I saw that there were two other marks right next to it, and it dawned on me.
It was her older brother Greg’s birthday. She had to get home to be at his grave for his birthday. Three tally marks—three years. Three years she’d been without him. Three birthdays he’d missed.
I sat down on the grass next to her. She seemed to remember my presence only when I put a hand on her shoulder. “Thanks, Harry. I—we made it. It’s okay.” She seemed to have calmed down, and when I brushed my thumb lightly over her cheek, I realized that she wasn’t crying anymore.
“Are you alright?” Her eyes were wet, but she had a slight smile on her face.
“Yeah, hotshot, I’m fine.” She laughed turning to me. “I’m sorry I was so…you know. I just—I had to get here. I had to tell him happy birthday. And I couldn’t be late. His birthday was today, well, yesterday, I guess.” She pulled the bags towards her. “This shirt I’m wearing is his. Every one of the birthday’s he’s had that I’ve been alive for we’ve celebrated together. Even the ones I don’t remember. I almost missed. I almost didn’t do it, but I made it. I made it with a minute to spare, but I told him before it was too late.” She opened the bags and pulled out a six pack of grape soda and three superhero action figures.

Nell’s POV
I absentmindedly placed the action figures—Iron Man, Captain America, and the Hulk, Gregory’s three favorite superheroes—in front of his headstone. I opened one of the drinks and offered one to Harry. “Do you want one?”
He looked at me with the strangest expression—a mixture of shock, worry, and amusement. “We stopped at Tesco, almost not making it in time, because you had to buy grape soda and sharpies? And you brought superheroes?”
“Flowers are lame.” I answered, laughing a bit. I felt the most alarming sense of relief wash over me. The whole time in the car, I had been beating myself up about forgetting, but now all I could think about was that I made it. We were together, if only for a minute right before midnight, on his birthday. ‘Together’ was a relative word, but I had spent two June 29th’s in this very spot, in front of his grave, and I knew that this was as close at it would ever get.
He took the soda from me, smiling and shaking his head. “So…grape?”
“His favorite. My favorite. We always had it.”
“That makes sense.” He turned his attention to the grave. “Happy birthday, Greg.”