March 2018
Maggie didn’t talk to Harry for almost a week after their little spat in the studio – and he didn’t talk to her either. Besides a polite hello if they saw each other in the courtyard, they didn’t have anything else to say. It was as if they were being polite to each other for the child – the child being Hemmy, of course. Maggie still needed Hemmy in her life and that dog would be mush without her.
It wasn’t until Saturday of the following week – nine days since their little quarrel at the studio – that Harry showed up at her door. It was the same day she found out the worst news of her life – she received a B on her Environmental Law exam and it brought her GPA down to 3.8. She was devastated.
“What do you want, Harry?” Maggie asked, annoyed to see his face that night of all nights.
“Kendall broke up with me,” he blurted out. She looked straight into his eyes and she could see he was seconds away from falling apart.
“Come in,” she said without hesitation.
He fell into her arms and she wrapped him into a hug. She felt bad for him. That heartless bitch. She could hear the faint sounds of him crying against her shoulder. Oh, God. He was breaking down in front of her and she didn’t know what to do. She wanted to cry with him – for him and for her.
“If it makes you feel any better, my GPA dropped to 3.8,” she told him.
“No!” He gasped, pulling away, looking straight into her eyes. She nodded weakly as her tears began to pool in her eyes and he pulled her into another tight hug. Her GPA meant so much to her and all that work was now tainted.
“Look at us, we’re pathetic,” Harry said, wiping his eyes.
“We kind of are,” Maggie chuckled as she wiped her eyes as well.
“We should go out. Get some food or something. Get really drunk,” Harry suggested. That idea didn’t sound half bad to her at all.
“That sounds perfect,” she said, perking up a bit.
“Go on. Get ready,” Harry said, nodding toward the stairs.
“Okay,” she smiled and walked up toward her bedroom.
She changed out of her sweats that she was sulking in and put on a pair of denim skinny jeans and an old Hurley hoodie she had from high school. It was beat up, but so were her spirits and she wasn’t really looking to impress anyone. She was, after all, going out to get blitzed with her neighbor who she had a secret crush on, but could never have. She was pathetic, a lost cause.
“Are you almost ready?” Maggie heard Harry at her bedroom door.
“Yeah… uh, I just have to grab my purse,” she told him.
“Your house freaks me out,” Harry said from outside her doorway.
“Why’s that?” She asked curiously.
“Because it’s exactly mine, but backwards. My bed is even in the same place. We’ve slept head to head with just a wall in-between us for months,” he chuckled. Ah-ha! She suspected it all along.
“That is kind of weird,” she chuckled.
They walked out together and headed toward the front yard.
“Do you just want to go to Hoolihan’s down the street? That way neither of us has to drive and we don’t have to worry about getting home,” Harry suggested.
“Sounds good,” she told him.
All she knew about Hoolihan’s was that it was an Irish Pub in the neighborhood. She was never much for going out. Her now tarnished 4.0 GPA didn’t allow it. Thinking about it again almost had her in tears, but then she remembered that Harry’s heart was broken and she didn’t feel so down on herself.
She looked up at him as they walked down the sidewalk, he looked so sad, staring at his feet. He usually walked with more authority, with more confidence – but she could see that his confidence was shattered.
“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you for a week,” she told him.
“Why didn’t you?” He asked, looking up at her.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” she asked, turning the question back on him.
“Because you weren’t talking to me,” he said simply.
“I wasn’t talking to you because you seemed angry with me for some reason when I left the studio with Liam,” she told him.
“You seemed angry at me when you left the studio,” Harry countered.
“I said goodbye to you,” she told him.
“I said goodbye to you!” He shot back.
“No, you didn’t. You asked me why I was leaving in a very pissy tone,” she told him.
“I just didn’t see why you wanted to leave so early. We weren’t even there that long. I mean, I invited you to hang out and you didn’t even want to,” Harry explained.
“I was tired. I’m sorry,” she said, deciding that hiding the truth would be best for both of them.
“I’m sorry, too,” he said quietly.
They fell into a comfortable silence for the last couple blocks of their walk before they finally arrived at their destination. Harry held the door open for Maggie and pulled out her barstool at the bar. It was ridiculous how nice he was being.
“Are you ready to get pissed?” Harry asked as the bartender came their way.
“I guess so,” she smirked at him, really appreciating his British accent in that moment. Pissed meant something completely different in America.
“You guess so? Let me hear the enthusiasm, Maggie May!” Harry said excitedly. He was acting giddy and it was endearing. Maggie let out a laugh.
“Bring it, Styles!” She told him enthusiastically.
“Yeah, that’s more like it!” Harry said, grabbing her wrist and throwing it in the air.
“What can I get you?” The bartender asked.
“Four double shots of tequila and two of whatever beer you have on tap,” Harry ordered.
“Coming right up,” the bartender said and went to getting their liquor.
“Four double shots?” Maggie asked Harry.
“We’re getting plowed tonight, baby!” He laughed.
“Oh, Jesus,” Maggie laughed.
Once the shots were in front of them – two in front of Harry, two in front of Maggie – Harry was practically bouncing up and down on his stool. For someone who just got his heart ripped out, he sure as hell was acting goofy.
“Ready?” Harry asked.
“Are we doing both of them right off the bat?” She asked.
“Hell, yeah. Come on,” Harry said, slamming his hand down on the bar top.
“Are you joking right now? I don’t drink like this, Harry. I have the tolerance level of a cat. I will probably die from one of these shots,” she told him seriously.
“Maggie May, you better drink with me right now!” Harry coaxed.
“Ugh, Harry!” She whined.
“Now!” He demanded.
“Damn it,” she grumbled, grabbing her first shot.
“Ready? 3, 2, 1,” Harry counted down and the two of them took their shot and chased it with their beers. Down the hatch.
“Oh, Jesus Lord,” Maggie hissed, shaking her head, making a sourpuss face.
“Ooh, feel the burn,” Harry hissed, breathing in deeply.
“Yeah, it’s burning a hole right through my esophagus,” she told him.
“It’ll put hair on your chest,” Harry laughed.
“Yeah, just one more unflattering quality to add to my expansive list,” Maggie said, rolling her eyes.
“What are you talking about? You’re beautiful,” Harry scoffed at her and she rolled her eyes again.
“Has that tequila already gone to your head?” Maggie laughed.
“Maggie May, you are completely mad if you think you’re not beautiful,” Harry told her seriously.
“Pssssh,” Maggie said and this time, Harry rolled his eyes at her.
“Next shot,” Maggie said, trying to change the subject.
“’Atta girl!” He laughed as they both grabbed their next shot.
“What should we toast to?” She asked.
“To our shitty lives!” Harry said, holding up his shot glass.
“Ha, okay! To our shitty lives!” Maggie laughed, clinking her shot glass with his.
“3, 2, 1!” Harry counted it down again. Cheers. Swig. Ahh.
“Burn baby, burn,” Maggie breathed.
“Most definitely,” Harry hissed, taking a swig of beer. Maggie couldn’t help but look over at him and smile.
“It’s good, right?” He asked, nudging her.
“Oh, yeah,” she said sarcastically, realizing then that Harry Styles might be the devil in sheep’s clothing.
Maggie could already feel the alcohol taking effect. Her cheeks were red from the blood pooling in them and her eyes were fuzzy, feeling warm and weird. She’d gotten drunk off of wine before, but never hard liquor.
“Harry, I really don’t want to spend the whole night puking. So please, let’s hold off on the shots,” she told him.
“Sure thing, Maggie May,” Harry smiled at her, looking goofy and she knew he was feeling the alcohol too.
“You’re funny,” she told him.
“You’re funny,” he told her back as Maggie took another sip of her beer.
“So Maggie, how come you don’t have a boyfriend?” Harry asked and she almost choked on the beer she was trying to swallow.
“Uh…” She stammered, wiping her mouth, unsure of how to answer a question like that.
“I’ve never even seen you with a bloke,” Harry said, looking at her for an answer.
“A 4.0 GPA doesn’t leave me much free time,” she told him honestly.
“But you’ve dated, right?” Harry asked curiously.
“Well, yeah. Who do you think I am? A nun?” She laughed.
“Well no, but… I don’t know,” he said with a shrug.
“I had a steady boyfriend all throughout high school – Jamie. But once I got into college and moved six hours away, he started cheating on me with high school girls. It really does awesome things for a girl’s self-esteem, ya know,” Maggie told him.
“What a wanker,” Harry said, taking a sip of beer.
“Yeah well, I’m over it,” she said, drinking her own beer.
“Did you date anyone after?” Harry asked, continuing the conversation.
“Oh, yeah. A couple of one night stands – and I didn’t get the nickname ‘the blow job queen’ for nothing,” Maggie joked. Harry’s eyes widened and Maggie was sure they were about to pop out of his head. She burst out laughing.
“I’m kidding!” She giggled.
“Oh, Jesus. Ha,” Harry laughed.
“No, I didn’t really date. But I did have a couple of one night stands. Eh, it was college,” she said, shrugging her shoulders and Harry nodded.
“Do you regret not dating more?” He asked.
“Not really. I never really met anyone that tickled my fancy,” she smiled at him, thinking in her mind that she’d like him to tickle her fancy.
“Tickled your fancy, huh?” Harry smirked at her.
“Oh, are we being perverted now?” She laughed, quirking an eyebrow.
“I don’t know. Are we, blow job queen?” Harry joked. Maggie burst out laughing again. She was drunk – she was definitely drunk.
“You’re fun to be around, Mags,” Harry said seriously.
“You’re fun too, Harry,” she told him, practically staring at him because she couldn’t stop herself anymore. God, she loved him.
Their conversation never stopped as they sat at the bar drinking beers and enjoying each other’s company. And it was even more fun when Maggie went to the jukebox and put on ‘Drag Me Down’ by One Direction. She eventually persuaded Harry to get up and dance with her. He was embarrassed at first, but slowly got into it.
“I’ve got fire for a heart. I’m not scared of the dark. You’ve never seen it look so easy. I’ve got a river for a soul and baby, you’re a boat. Baby, you’re my only reason,” Maggie belted out over Harry’s pre-recorded voice.
“I had no idea, Maggie. I had no idea,” Harry smirked as he shook his head.
“What?” She smiled at him.
“That you were a closet One Direction fan,” he smirked at her.
“I’m a Harry Styles fan!” She said drunkly as she grabbed his wrists and moved them to the music.
“All my life you stood by me when nobody else was ever behind me. All these lights, they can’t blind me. With your love, nobody can drag me down,” Maggie belted out as she grinded her body against Harry’s. And then, finally – finally, Harry started singing with her.
“Nobody, nobody. Nobody can drag me down. Nobody, nobody,” they both sang.
They continued dancing and singing through the whole song, having a total blast with each other. Maggie couldn’t help but press her body against his while they danced. For one, it was Harry Styles and for two, she was way beyond drunk and couldn’t stay upright very well.
As the song ended and Harry’s pre-recorded voice hit the high notes, so did the two of them. They both nailed it and then laughed out loud as the final notes of the song played through.
“You wanna get out of here?” Harry whispered in her ear when the next song started on the jukebox.
“Yeah,” she said immediately, looking into his eyes.
The two of them walked to the bar to drink the rest of their beer and pay the tab.
“That was the most fun I’ve ever had singing ‘Drag Me Down’ and I’ve sang that song a lot,” Harry said, smiling at Maggie.
“Aww, I’m glad,” she said, smiling widely at him.
“You’re so much fun, Mags,” he told her.
“Let’s do one more shot, Hazza,” Maggie insisted on a whim.
“Are you sure?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Yep,” she nodded, sitting down on her barstool again.
“Okay. Tequila?” He asked.
“TEQUILA!” She cheered.
The bartender was all over that, pouring out two more double shots for them.
“1, 2, GO!” Maggie said, counting it down that time. She was completely plastered.
“Mmm, it never stops burning,” Harry laughed.
“Ah, this tequila can’t drag me down!” Maggie belted out again. Harry laughed as he pulled a one hundred dollar bill from his wallet and threw it down.
“A hundred dollars!?” Maggie laughed.
“Shh, let’s go,” Harry said playfully.
“Did we seriously drink a hundred dollars in alcohol?” Maggie asked him seriously.
“Let’s go Lushy McLusherton,” Harry laughed as he guided her out of the bar.
“Lushy Mc-whaty-what?” Maggie laughed hysterically.
“Lord, you are out of control,” Harry laughed.
“Outta control!” She laughed as they exited the bar out onto the sidewalk.
“Holy shit. We have a long walk,” Maggie said, taking a deep breath.
“Do you think you can make it? I can call an Uber,” Harry offered.
“How far is it?” She asked.
“Six blocks,” Harry told her.
“Psssh, that’s nothing,” Maggie laughed and started walking, but it was more like stumbling.
“Alright,” Harry laughed and fell into step with her.
They got about two blocks before Maggie needed to sit down on a bus bench and take a rest.
“Why don’t I give you a piggyback ride?” Harry offered.
“Mmm, YES!” Maggie said, jumping on his back without warning.
“Jesus, Maggie May! A little heads up, next time,” he said, grabbing onto her thighs to keep her up. Maggie wrapped her arms around his neck and he started walking toward home.
“Onward my trusty steed!” Maggie laughed.
“You better watch it, or I’ll buck you right off,” Harry laughed as he hopped around a little with her on his back.
“Harry Edward Styles! You better not!” Maggie scolded and he laughed.
Once they made it back to their gate, he put her down so he could unlock it. He let Maggie in and then made sure it was shut behind him.
“Harry, I don’t want this night to end,” she said, giving him a pouty lip.
“Well, what do you want to do?” He asked, looking at her curiously.
“I wanna see Hemmy,” she said, still giving him the pouty lip.
“Come on,” he said as they headed to his door.
“Yay!” She said, clapping amusingly. She had no idea how annoying she was being – sober Maggie would probably slap the shit out of drunk Maggie.
Harry unlocked his door and let her in first, turning on the entryway light in the process.
“This is weird. It’s all ass-backwards,” Maggie laughed at Harry’s previous comment about their houses being the exact opposite. It wasn’t like she’d never been in Harry’s house before, she had – it was just the bedroom that she hadn’t seen.
“I told you,” he smiled proudly.
“Isn’t it weird how just a few hours ago we were standing in my entryway crying?” Maggie asked him.
“Mm-hmm,” Harry hummed, staring at her.
“I’m glad we’re feeling better,” she said quietly, her giddy mood fading as his eyes bore into hers.
“You know what I’ve always wondered, Maggie May?” Harry asked, inching incredibly close to her. She could spot that glazed, glassy look in his eyes a mile away – lust.
“Hmm,” she breathed, and suddenly she felt her back meet with the foyer wall.
“If you’re anything like the Maggie May from the song,” he said, moving in closer and closer.
“I don’t know,” Maggie said, swallowing hard.
“You turned into a lover and mother what a lover, you wore me out,” Harry sang seductively as he put his hands on the wall on either side of her.
And then his body was pressed against hers – and then his lips.
Oh, God. This might be worth it.

Notes