Summertime & Butterflies

Olivia stood in the doorway, surely gawking at the leggy popstar as any bit of social etiquette she may have had flew out the window. It wasn’t until Taylor scoffed impatiently that Olivia turned her head, calling for Harry. Taylor let out another snicker, easily shoving her scrawny body past Olivia into the house. Olivia stumbled backwards, her eyes widening at Taylor’s audacity.

“Sorry…” Olivia looked up, noticing just then that Taylor had a giraffe-like friend hiding in the shadows behind her. The friend whispered the apology as she stepped into the house behind Taylor, a sheepish look on her face. “She insisted…”

Olivia crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at the two girls as Harry rounded the corner into the entry way. His jaw dropped as he found himself face-to-face with his ex-girlfriend, but he quickly composed himself.

“Hello Taylor,” he greeted politely, after a few beats passed. “Karlie,” he added, directing his comment to Taylor’s friend. “What’s, uhm… what are you two up to?” he asked, stepping closer to Olivia and tucking his arm around her waist, squeezing reassuringly. Having her fat rolls squeezed while in the presence of two women who, combined, were still smaller than Olivia, was far from reassuring, and she felt her back stiffen at his touch.

“Oh, you know…” Taylor answered airily, letting her hand trace along a painting on the wall as she stepped closer to Harry. “Saw you were having a party, and… well, we always had such fun together, didn’t we?” she asked, widening her eyes innocently and looking up at Harry from under her lashes. “Thought we’d come see an old friend… and see his… new friend…” Taylor added, the words caked with distaste as she voiced them. She let her gaze wander slowly from Olivia’s head to her feet and back again, her eyebrows raised as though to question Harry’s choice.

Olivia let out a quiet scoff, rolling her eyes as the little girl attempted to intimidate her. Harry echoed Olivia’s snicker, though there was no malice behind his. “This is Olivia,” he said to Taylor and Karlie. “My girlfriend,” he added, turning and beaming proudly at Olivia. “Liv, this is Taylor and Karlie,” he told Olivia.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Karlie said pleasantly. At least she didn’t seem wretched.

“Mm-hmm…” Taylor hummed, looking back and forth between Harry and Olivia. “So you’re the food blogger then?” she asked, the distain still evident in her voice.

“That was just a rumour,” Harry interjected quickly. Pictures and stories had filled social media just weeks prior, insisting a blonde food blogger from London was Harry’s new girlfriend. Even though Olivia knew it wasn’t true, it was still difficult to see stories about her boyfriend with another girl. Not to mention, Harry’s so-called “fans” tore this girl apart. It showed her exactly how they would react when they found out about her, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“Hmm…” Taylor hummed again, sounding bored. “My bad. You just… look like a food blogger…” she added, her tone sounding kinder, but her gaze settling on Olivia’s stomach, as if to say you look like you eat a lot.

“Olivia’s a teacher,” Harry corrected Taylor, clearly not picking up on Taylor’s subtle dig. He gave Olivia’s side another squeeze – though she knew he was trying to be comforting, she felt anything but comforted as he drew attention to her food-loving belly.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Olivia announced, shaking herself from Harry’s arms. She didn’t need to stand patiently while being scrutinized by Taylor Swift, and if Harry was going to allow the party-crashers stay –which Olivia could almost guarantee he would – she would need more alcohol.

She stalked into the kitchen, unnecessarily making a racket as she pawed through the cupboards for a glass. She felt agitated, the unwelcomed visitors clearly having an effect on her. She pulled open the fridge and grabbed a new bottle of wine before shoving her hip against the fridge, forcefully closing it. She slammed the bottle onto the counter, rooting through the drawer for the corkscrew.

“You alright?”

Olivia looked up, huffing out a breath. Harry was standing in the kitchen doorway, watching Olivia fluster about the kitchen. He leaned against the wall, an amused smirk on his face, which irritated her more.

“Just trying to find the fucking corkscrew,” she snapped, rifling through the drawer with such speed, she wouldn’t have seen the tool even if it were in the drawer. Silently, Harry stepped beside Olivia and handed her the corkscrew from the counter beside her. She glanced at him, the irritating smirk still on his face. Wordlessly, she snatched the tool from his hands.

Harry chuckled, clearly unfazed by Olivia’s tantrum. “They’re not going to be here long,” he told her, taking the bottle from Olivia’s hands and effortlessly popping the cork. “Just a drink. I promise.”

Olivia took the bottle back from Harry, holding it close to her chest. “This is my wine,” she told him stubbornly, knowing she sounded like a brat. She didn’t want to share with those girls. They were rich; they could drink their own wine.

Harry laughed loudly, stepping behind Olivia and taking two more glasses from the cupboard. “Oh, God,” he teased with a roll of his eyes. “Didn’t your mom teach you how to share?” he wondered, gripping the neck of the bottle and tugging it away from her.

Olivia crossed her arms in a huff. “Didn’t your mom teach you to not have old girlfriends around new girlfriends, especially when said old girlfriend is kind of a bitch?” she asked him, watching him pour a small amount of wine into each of the glasses.

“Oh, come on…” Harry answered, pulling Olivia’s glass to him and filling it up. “I’m just trying to be nice!”

“To who?”

Harry let out a sigh. “Don’t be mad at me…” he whined softly, linking his arm around Olivia’s back and nuzzling into her neck. “I don’t want them to be here either… I don’t want anyone to be here… just me… and you…” He trailed off, letting his lips dance against Olivia’s neck. She sighed, letting him kiss her for just a moment before pushing him away.

“Stop being so cute and charming,” she told him, trying to sound gruff, but it was impossible to stay annoyed at Harry. She pointed a finger at him warningly. “And don’t let them stay for more than a drink,” she added with a roll of her eyes. “Be nice to me, not them,” she told him, her lip jutting out into a small pout.

Harry snagged Olivia’s pout with his lips. “Give me a couple hours and I’ll be real nice to you,” he promised teasingly, nudging Olivia’s wine glass towards her. Olivia rolled her eyes but smirked at Harry’s comment.

“Better be,” Olivia told him, picking up her wine glass and swatting his bottom with her free hand as she followed him into the living room. The room was awkwardly silent, with Taylor standing in front of the fireplace, hand on her hip as though she was posing on the red carpet. She caught Olivia’s eye and rolled her eyes at the girl before holding her hand out to accept the glass of wine from Harry.

“Thank you so much, Harry,” Taylor cooed, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. “This is so kind of you… You’ve always been so thoughtful.”

“Uhh, well… thank you…” Harry answered, his cheeks pinking.

Olivia rolled her eyes as she plopped onto the couch next to Glenne, taking a big sip of wine. Glenne glanced sideways at Olivia, the guilt still apparent on her face.

“I’m so sorry they showed up,” she whispered to Olivia. “Karlie saw my Snap, and… I guess Taylor’s kind of drunk, and insisted they come! She even remembered the lock code from… before…” Glenne added abashedly. “I’m so, so sorry!”

Olivia waved her hand dismissively. It wasn’t Glenne’s fault. “It’s okay,” she assured her. “Let’s just hope they leave soon…”

~*~*~*~

It was wishful thinking on Olivia’s part. The girls didn’t leave soon. Taylor had gulped down her wine and then insisted Harry get her a refill. Much to Olivia’s chagrin, he obliged. She made sure to show her displeasure with a scowl in his direction, but he hadn’t noticed, which frustrated her more. She didn’t want to play the role of jealous girlfriend, but it was impossible not to, with leggy Taylor blatantly flirting with Harry right in front of her.

“Having fun?” Harry asked, finding a seat beside Olivia when Taylor and Karlie disappeared onto the deck to share a drunk cigarette. He’d spent the last glass of wine standing by the fireplace with Taylor and Karlie, seemingly sharing old stories and a couple of laughs. With every laugh that echoed through the living room and every glance that Harry didn’t cast in Olivia’s direction, the more upset she became. When Taylor reached over and rested her hand against Harry’s arm, as though to use him for support while she laughed at something oh so funny, it took every ounce of strength Olivia had to not jump up and slap the bitch straight across the face. But, she knew that would only make matters worse, so she was relegated to sit and scowl.

Olivia frowned at Harry as she took a drink, not answering him. What a stupid question.

He tried again, reaching out and touching her knee. “Come on, honey… I’m trying to get them to leave…”

Olivia snickered. “Really?” she asked, her voice sounding more hurt than angry. “Because it looks like you’re pouring them drinks and gleefully skipping down memory lane.”

“That’s not what it is…” Harry argued quietly. “It’s just… easier to be kind to her than to be in her bad books, you know? We’re just talking…”

Olivia scoffed, shaking her head gently. It wasn’t like Harry to completely disregard her feelings, and it bothered her. She reminded herself that she was a grown woman and attempted to tread on the situation lightly. “I would appreciate it if you asked them to leave,” she told Harry, struggling to keep the whine out of her voice.

Harry sighed. “I’m trying, hon!” he insisted, sounding exasperated. “I can’t just say ‘okay, leave!’”

“Why not?”

“Because!” Harry exclaimed. “It’s rude!”

Olivia scoffed again. Hearing Harry care more about Taylor’s feelings than her own was upsetting, but as they were still sitting in his living room, surrounded by his friends, she didn’t want to make a scene. “Well… I guess if they won’t leave, maybe I will,” Olivia said, standing up.

“Honey, sit down…” Harry told her quietly as Taylor and Karlie returned to the living room. Olivia looked back and forth between her boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend, her eyebrow raised. She assumed he would tell Taylor to leave right at that moment, but when Harry’s head dropped slightly, Olivia knew he wasn’t going to.

“Okay then,” Olivia told him, turning on her heel and stalking up the stairs. When she got to the top, she looked down into the living room below and was livid at the sight of Taylor taking her vacated spot on the couch next to Harry. If Harry was a smart man, he would be jumping up and chasing Olivia, before insisting Taylor and Karlie find another party to crash. If Harry was a smart man, he wouldn’t have refilled their drinks and continued to share anecdotes of the past together. But as Olivia slammed the bedroom door and didn’t hear footsteps on the stairs, she realised that her wonderful, sweet boyfriend was, in fact, a very stupid man.

She paced in the bedroom for ten minutes, feeling her anger build with every minute that passed. She reassured herself that she was not being dramatic, and wondered how Harry would feel if she invited her ex boyfriends to hang out. She knew she could have reacted differently – she could have stood beside Harry with her arms around him, matching every squealy giggle Taylor emitted with one of her own, killed Taylor with kindness. But the phony bologna attitude wasn’t in Olivia’s repertoire. It was impossible for her to hide her poker face and she had no desire to. She wanted her boyfriend to respect her, acknowledge her discomfort and have the two girls leave. She really didn’t think it was asking too much, but as the minutes ticked along and Harry still hadn’t come upstairs to see Olivia, she decided he would rather spend time with Taylor than Olivia… and she was fuming.

She stomped around the bedroom, grabbing her pajamas and phone charger. She knew she was being loud, and hoped everyone downstairs could hear. Perhaps she was being a tad more dramatic than necessary, but kept the noise up as she pulled open the master bedroom door and stomped down the hall to the guest bedroom, ensuring the door slammed behind her.

As she was throwing her tantrum, Olivia realised suddenly that her disagreement with Harry would be resolved. It was a stunning understanding – with any past relationships, little fights were the catalyst for the end. Although she was annoyed with Harry and would make her frustrations known if he ever wised up and joined her upstairs, the fact that they would hash it out and settle was absolute. She liked knowing that the fight wouldn’t jeopardize their relationship – if anything, it would likely help strengthen their union.

Regardless, though, she was still pissed off.

She curled up on the spare bed – nowhere near as comfortable as the bed they shared down the hall – and fiddled with her phone, absentmindedly scrolling through Buzzfeed and wondering if she was a true hipster based on foods she ate. She wasn’t.

Seven ridiculous quizzes and countless exasperated sighs later, Olivia heard footsteps coming down the hall. She quickly rolled over, ensuring her back was to the door when Harry quietly pushed it open. She heard him step into the room and shut the door behind him, though his footsteps remained silent as he stayed pressed against the door.

After a few moments, he spoke. “What are you doing in here?”

“Making a middle school dance playlist to see if my crush likes me,” Olivia answered, her voice sounding dull as she kept her back to Harry. She wondered if he thought waiting half an hour to come upstairs to talk to her was acceptable.

He let out a quiet chuckle, stepping across the room towards her. “I do…” Harry told her, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Who says you’re my crush?”

Harry reached over, touching Olivia’s bent knee. “Cause you’re mine?” he tried, tugging on her knee in an attempt to get her to roll over and look at him. “Come on, love…” Harry said in a quiet voice when she didn’t roll over. “They’re gone now,” he added, sounding hopeful.

“Sorry ‘bout your luck,” Olivia told him sullenly.

“Fuck off…” Harry muttered with an exasperated sigh. He tugged on Olivia’s leg again, this time pulling her onto her back. His eyes looked sad as he gazed into hers, brushing her hair off of her forehead. “I’m a dumbass,” he confessed sheepishly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have let them come in. I just… I haven’t had feelings for this girl since I was eighteen years old. I didn’t think it would matter…”

“But it did…” Olivia reminded him. “To me. You seemed more concerned about appeasing her than caring about my own feelings. Maybe there’s no reason for me to feel jealous, but I fucking did. And then you stupidly wait, like, half a fucking hour to come and see me? You are a dumbass…” she added, though her voice soft.

“The dumbest…” Harry agreed, leaning over Olivia and letting his hand rest on the other side of her body. “I can’t tell you not to feel jealous… but… honey, you don’t have to be. I love you… and only you… and always you. You’re stuck with me,” he added with a teasing smirk.

Olivia rolled her eyes but smiled at his words. “You’re stuck with me, too…” she told him, letting her fingers dance along his tattooed arm. “So, unless you want me to be a miserable bitch sleeping in the spare room… no more ex-girlfriends. I mean it,” she added seriously. “I wanted to punch that chick out, and if she shows up again, I fucking will…”

Harry laughed. “Okay, Rambo…” he teased gently. “And if she tries to kiss me again, I promise you can knock her out.”

Olivia furrowed her brow and sat up straighter. “What do you mean, tries to kiss you?” she asked him. “She tried to kiss you?”

Harry shifted, looking uncomfortable. “Well, yeah but… I mean, I didn’t kiss her back or anything…”

Olivia pushed Harry’s arm away from her, sitting up and crossing her legs. “Wait,” she said, holding up her hand to silence him. Her stomach was knotting. “Did she actually kiss you?”

“I didn’t kiss her back,” Harry repeated quietly, his voice taking on a defensive tone that didn’t sit well with Olivia.

“Did you push her away?”

Harry didn’t answer Olivia, and his gaze fell to his hands. Olivia’s stomach was nauseatingly twisting. “Did you push her away?” she asked again, her voice pitching as she realised he hadn’t. Olivia drew in a shaky breath, wanting to vomit as she thought about her boyfriend, her love, kissing another girl just a room away from her. She stretched her leg out, pushing on his leg with her foot. “Get away from me.”

Harry didn’t move. “Honey, I didn’t do anything –“ he tried to explain. Olivia kicked again, connecting with Harry’s leg harder this time. She hoped she left a bruise.

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, her voice cracking. “Get the fuck away from me! Get away!” she shouted, kicking him again. She couldn’t believe he had told her she had no reason to be jealous, while he was letting Taylor put her lips all over his, lips that were Olivia’s now, not hers. If it hadn’t got brought up, would he have even told her? Something about the look on his face told her no.

“Stop fucking kicking me!” Harry yelped, grabbing Olivia’s ankles. “It wasn’t even a big deal!”

Olivia kicked her legs out of Harry’s grasp. “I said, get away from me!” she shrieked at him. “I don’t want you anywhere near me after you’ve had your mouth all over hers! I can’t fucking believe you, Harry! You’re fucking disgusting! Get the fuck away from me!”

“It’s my fucking house!” Harry shouted back, catching Olivia’s anger.

“Fine!” Olivia snapped, hoping off the bed and grabbing her phone. “Enjoy your fucking house, then.” She stomped out of the bedroom and down the stairs to the empty living room – Harry’s friends clearly had overheard the shrieks and saw themselves to the door. She slipped on her flip-flops and slammed the front door behind her. She didn’t know if Harry would follow her, but this time, she didn’t want him to. She was so disgusted by him; she didn’t even want to see his face. Maybe this fight would jeopardize their relationship after all.

Notes