Day 5

Summer Love

The moment I open my eyes I know it's morning. Outside the rain's once again drumming against the windows, and even though everything's still swirling, my body are stuck in a state of ecstasy. Whatever happened between Harry and I was real. Even if he can't remember it.

I quickly get up, my brain beating against my scalp. Apparently alcohol's still rushing through my blood even though it's several hours ago. I start putting on my jeans, and soon I'm in the hallway fully dressed. I'm wearing the same T-shirt I wore a few days ago when Harry and I spend the day in New Orleans, not that he remembers. But maybe I'm lucky.

The moment I enter the laundry room, it's obvious they're there. After all who else would fighting with towels.

"Besides you went first yesterday," Louis ends.

"In other words," Harry replies, spanking his friend with a towel. I watch them fight for a few seconds, wondering what I should do when something crosses my ming. I step forward.

"Boys," I say. "I do think, it's my turn to go first."

They both look, staring at me startled.

"After all, we wouldn't want the manager, your boss, to find out, would we?" I send them a daring glare. Luckily, Louis is the first to stand up.

"And why should we believe you?" He steps closer, a towel in hand.

"Because," I face him. "My parents are getting married."

I don't have to say anymore. The message seems to have seeped into their heads instantly. Harry quickly gets up, giving me an admiring nod before motioning towards the cart.

"After you, darling," He says, making me involuntarily blush. I try to ignore it, almost running towards the cart. But just before I reach it Harry steps in front me.

"Haven't I seen you before?"

"Yes," I admit, stepping around him to climb into the cart.

"Good," Harry answers, jumping in beside me. "That means your in for wild ride."


I don't know why, but three hours later I find myself in front of my parents door. I can hear them bustling inside, packing up their stuff. My head's still hurting, but this time it's not the wine. This time it's the guilt finally overcoming me. The guilt and the anger there have been misleading me for days.

"Come on, honey," My dad starts, opening the door. "You can finish pac-"

He stops mid-sentence when he sees me, frozen in place.

"Dad," I say. "We need to talk."

He looks conflicted, frightened almost as he motions for me to get inside. I walk past him, knowing what I'm about to see won't make me happy. And I'm right, it doesn't.

In front of me are several gym bags, the exact same I cried over several days ago. The day Harry comforted me and we ran away. Some part of me wish I could do that again, but it's impossible. Especially when I know what's going to happen.

"Björn," My mom says, as she exits the bathroom. "What's going-"

She stops in front of us, her eyes locked on me.

"Honey, what are you doing here?"

"That," I take a deep breath. "Is something I think you should answer."

My parents quickly glance at each other before my mom sits down on the bed. My dad moves the bags and she pats for me to sit down beside her. Her hand is placed on my knee.

"Look," She starts, her voice fragile. "We were going to-"

"Don't lie," I interrupt. "I had enough of that. Tell me the truth."

She's silent for a moment, probably trying to make up the next line in her and my dad's grand scheme.

"Look," She starts again. "We are going to run away, tonight after dinner."

I thought I could handle it, but the moment it's out something inside me breaks. It's true. It has always been true.

"I know what you're thinking," My mom continues. "And it was never our plan to tell anyone."

"Why not?" I ask, frustrated through my tears.

"We thought would be easier this way."

"Easier for who?" I stand up. "Me? My sister? You seriously thought that not telling anyone were the best idea in the entire world."

"Benjamin, listen-"

"No. You listen," The anger from the last couple of days begins rushing through me. "I have been trying for days, DAYS, to make everything perfect. But all you and dad ever do is run away. Again and again and again. You never even told us why you got divorced in the first place. Was it so you could have this fancy 'vacation'?"

They're both staring at me, their faces covered in shock.

"Did you even think that Nadja and I things going on too? Like boyfriends?"

"Honey," My mom grazes my shoulder. "If that's the problem, I'm sure-"

"See," I back away. "You won't even answer one question."

I walk for the door about to head out.

"And FYI just because I may have a boyfriend doesn't mean I would ever let him come near you."

My hand immediately presses down the door handle, but before I'm able to exit my mom spins me around, looking straight into my eyes.

"You wanna know what's going on?" She says, clearly upset. "We're moving."

"Wait, WHAT?" I exclaim, completely taken aback.

"Your dad got a new job in Las Vegas. As for the divorce," My mom casts a glance back at my dad. "It's complicated."

I nod, still not able to grasp what's going on. Did my mom just say they were going to move?

"That's why you left the credit card," I feel myself collapse onto the bed. "I'm not coming with you?"

It wasn't supposed to be a question, but apparently my mom takes it otherwise.

"I'm sorry," She sits down next to me. "You're almost eighteen and we just thought you would rather stay with you friends."

"But," Tears slowly begin to return. "That means I'm going to live… alone."

My mom doesn't deny it, instead she pats my back, trying her best to comfort me.


"A bottle of whisky, please," I say, falling into the bar seat at the hotel's bar. I don't even know why I went down here. Especially not since I managed to convince my parents to leave as soon as possible. I even promised to tell all the guests.

"Here," A glass slams down beside me, but instead of being filled with whisky it contains some kind of brown, mushy liquid. I look up at the bartender.

"This is not what I ordered."

"Well," Harry replies, pushing it back towards me. "It's obvious you were a bit hungover this morning. Besides," He leans forward. "We're not allowed to serve alcohol to minors."

"Garbage," I protest. Harry just smiles and continues to polish the glass in his hand. I stare at the drink in front of me for a few seconds before grabbing it. Harry's right, I do still feel a bit hungover, especially after the argument. Maybe a little taste wouldn't hurt. I was very wrong.

"Gross," I manage to choke out, putting the glass back down. Harry's laughing.

"I didn't say it tasted well," He says in between laughs. "So," He leans in again. "Who is he?"

"Who?" I say, still scraping my tongue with a napkin.

"Your boyfriend."

I freeze. How did he know? He couldn't, not unless…

"You heard?"

"Accidentally," He looks apologetically at me. "Sorry, 'bout your parents."

"It's for the better," I smile at him. "Besides the guy I was talking about, I don't really know what we are."

For some reason Harry's smile widens, making a curl fall down in front of his eyes. I try not to do the same, but the moment his eyes meet mine, I know it's impossible. I move the hair away with my hand.

"You're done with that?" He motions towards the glass.

"Yeah," I say, immediately scrambling for tips in my pocket. "It' all yours."

He's about to take it away when something sharp cuts my finger. I grab it. It's the business card.

"Hey, can a burrow your phone?" I ask, waiting for him to fish it from his pocket

"Don't talk too long," He hands me the black cell and leaves with my drink. I quickly unlock it, entering the number from the card. I press call and it goes through. Soon a woman picks it up.

"Syco Records, how can I assist you?" I quickly start explaining how I got the number and soon without noticing she forwards me to the producer's personal assistant, who arranges a lunch meeting in New Orleans in about two hours.

I hang up, just as Harry returns.

"Need anything else?" He asks.

"A lift," I reply, handing him back the phone. He stares deviously at me.

"On one condition…"


How I managed to swallow the disgusting drink I have no idea. All I know is that the bitter aftertaste still hasn't left when we reach midtown. Harry has been laughing all the way along with Niall, who voluntarily joined after I told him he could devour the wedding cake once we got back.

"So who are you meeting again?" Harry asks for the twentieth time.

"Just someone I meet a few days ago."

It doesn't take long until we finally reach the right street. The assistant told me to meet him at an old French bakery, and sure enough only a few blocks down is an old, rustic building with small cafe tables standing in front of it. Across from it is the pavilion.

"All right," I make Harry stop the car. "I think it's here."

"A bakery?" Niall exclaims. "Can I come with? Please, I love pastries."

"Maybe next time, Nialler," I'm about to exit, when Harry let's out a surprised gasp.

"No way, that can't be," He stares starstruck at the man who enters, but before he can ask any questions I slam the car door behind me and walk across the road. The smell of old homemade buns and chocolate greets me as I enter the bakery. I smile, knowing Niall would have loved this, before making my way to a man at the far side of the room.

He looks the same as he did the last time I saw him. He still wears the frizzy black-grey hair, a sweater, and when he sees me his face contracts into several layers of wrinkles. He stands up, holding out a hand.

"Simon Cowell."

"Benjamin," I shake his hand. "Benjamin Parker."

"I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty to order," He studies me, waiting for a reaction.

"Not at all."

"Good," Simon seems pleased. "So tell me, you told my assistant we met, why?"

"It's…" I'm about to say complicated, but quickly stray away from it. "Surreal."

"Excuse me?" He stares confused at me as a waitress delivers two cups of coffee, each with a pastry. I almost consider saving it for Niall. Almost.

"Explain," Simon finally says after taking a sip of his coffee.

"You know," I take the business card out and start writing on the back of it. "Why don't you come see for yourself."

I hand him the card. He studies it for a few moments before finally putting it into his pocket.

"Why are you doing this?" He asks, looking me over.

"Because I'm not ready," I stand up. "Thanks for meeting me, Simon."

He nods, but as I'm about to walk away I notice the pastry on his plate.

"By the way, could you do me a favor?"

The moment I jump into the car Niall's all over me.

"You got something for me?" He asks, and I throw him the pastry. Harry studies me.

"Did you just talk to who I think you did?"

I put on my seatbelt. "Maybe, I did."


We're not back at the hotel until the clock strikes six. We spent the entire day tracking down all my relatives and parent's friends to tell them the wedding was off. Not everyone, particularly my grandparents, took it well. Maybe, now that I think about it, I shouldn't have told them about the Las Vegas wedding I'd suggested. Oh, well, we all make mistakes.

The minute we roll into the parking lot, Niall starts jumping up and down. He has waited all day for the wedding cake and I think he deserves it. Especially after he pushed the truck out of that mud-hole we'd been stuck in earlier.

"Are we there yet?" He repeats for at least the hundredth time.

"YES!" Harry and I yell in unison.

"Wow, calm down." Niall falls back into his seat. "I was just-"

"WAITING FOR THE CAKE. WE KNOW." We yell in unison again. Niall looks down, but I know he'll forgive us. Just one taste of the chocolaty goodness and everything will be back to normal. Sorta.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, noticing I just went pale.

"Yeah," I push the thought of my parents away. "Just thinking."

"About me?" I laugh. Harry's been halfway flirting with me all day, and even though I've trying to ignore it, it's hard. Especially with those curls.

When we are finally parked, Niall immediately stumbles out the car, running for the kitchen. But before he can disappear entirely, Harry yells after him.

"Remember to take a shower."

"Okay," Niall yells back, probably more in response than an actual answer.

"He's not gonna do it, you know." I say, getting out next to him.

"Nah," Harry shakes his head. "But it was worth a shot."

We start walking towards the entrance, but before we reach it Harry stops me.

"Hey, wanna go for walk?"

"Aren't we already walking?" I joke, making him smile.

"Yes," He agrees. "But," He steps closer. "I was thinking more like the beach?"

I slowly nod, letting him drag me towards it.

I have no idea how long our walk takes. All I know is that it's blowing hard and the waves are still beating fast against the shore. Just like the night four days ago when Harry and I walked here together.

"You think too much."

"Huh?" I let out, not getting Harry's words.

"You," He points at me. "Thinks," He moves the finger to his head. "Too much." He spins it.

"I do not," I say, grabbing his hand. It feels warm in mine, like two pieces of metal melting together. He smiles.

"So," He starts, playing with my hand. "I wondered if you would, maybe, come tonight."

At first I'm surprised. It seems just like the first night, the night when he kissed me and asked me stay. The night that was a bit too perfect.

"I'm sorry," I hesitate. "I can't."

He looks down, embarrassed. I want to say something, come up with some kind of apology, but can't. He lets go of my hand.

When we get back to the hotel my sister's in the lobby. She smiling and laughing and next to her is no other than Zayn. Her smile switches the moment she sees me, but before I'm able to move she comes towards me, embracing me in a bone fracturing hug.

"Benjamin Christian Parker," She lets go, finally letting me breath. "Did you ever think about telling me you cancelled the wedding?"

"I'm sorry?" I try, but she doesn't let me go that easy.

"Sorry," Her eyes are on fire. "You know, Benjamin, I expected more of you."

"Like telling me you had a boyfriend?" I fire back, making her blush.

"That's…" She tries to think of something. "That's different."

"Uhm," I nod. She hits my shoulder.

"Hey, don't give me that look. Can't we just say we both made mistakes?"

"Sure," I say, letting her me hug again. As we part a sudden yelp reaches my ear. I turn around just in time to see Liam and Louis enter the lobby, Louis yanking Niall's ear. He yelps again.

"Look who we found in the kitchen," Louis says, letting the Irishman go.

"But I was hungry," Niall complains, rubbing his ear.

"We got a little over two hours before the concert starts," Liam says, watching him. "And you decided cake was more important than," Liam brushes a few crumbs away from Niall's mud-covered shirt. "Our image."

"I told him to get a shower," Harry adds, putting up his hand.

"Which is why he'll be crashing at your place while we get ready."

Liam immediately turns, gesturing for the others to follow him. None objects and soon they're all on the way out the door. Or almost.

"Harry, wait," I yell, running after him. He stops. "Will you promise me something?"

He gazes at me, then nods.

"Sing an original tonight."

"But-"

"No buts," I grab his hand. "If you don't have one, write one. I'm rooting for you."

Before he's able to respond I do something crazy. Something I wouldn't have done four days ago. I lean in and kiss him.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He smiles, gently squeezing my hand before walking out the door. My sister appears behind me.

"Looks like I'm not the only one, who haven't told about their boyfriend."

"Shut up," I turn around and grab her arm. "Now, let's go have some cake."


It's less than an hour till I have to be at the airport. I know that. What I don't know, on the other hand, is why I ended up in my sister's truck on the way to the guys's gig right before. I already said goodbye to Harry, I don't need another reminder. Apparently, my sister thinks otherwise.

"When do I have to turn?" Nadja asks, focusing on the road. She's been using me as gps ever since we entered the city.

"Two more blocks to the right," I answer. "So tell me again, why you're not coming home with me?"

"I want to stick around for a bit," She stops, waiting for the light to turn green. "See if it works out."

"Between you and Zayn?" I send her a disbelieving glare. She smiles.

"Yes," She hits my shoulder.

"Watch the road," I say, rubbing it. Maybe my sister doesn't look like it, but she's strong. "Beside this is not Canada. There's a difference between miles and kilometers."

"Sure," My sister replies, turning the car so sharp I bump my other shoulder into the door. Luckily, the trip's soon over and we park right across from the bar. Inside the music's already going. The guys are on.

"All right," Nadja turns owards me. "Let me see you."

"Wait, you're not coming?"

"No." She starts adjusting my collar. When she's done, she looks me over one more time.

"Good luck," She says, smiling. I smile back before climbing outside. Inside my chest my heart's racing. I try to ignore it as I walk across the square, but by the time I reach the door I feel as if I'm about to explode. I push it open and walk inside.

Up on the stage the guys just finished a number, I'm sure, since the crows erupts into cheer as I enter. I can see they've changed into other clothes and even Niall is now spotless. I smile, leaning against the door opening, watching Harry throw off his jacket. The girls go wild.

"So," He says. "We thought we would do something a little special for you tonight."

The crowd grows wilder as Niall returns onstage with a guitar. All the guys sit down

"We just wrote this song and," Harry hesitates for a moment. "And we would like to know what you think."

Niall starts picking, the crowd goes silent. After a few beats, Zayn starts,

Can't believe you're packing your bags, trying so hard not to cry.

It's the best time, feels like the worst time

But we have to say goodbye

Zayn glances at Harry. He takes over, smiling.

Don't promise that you gonna write

Don't promise that you call

Just promise that you won't forget we had it all

A tear slides down my cheek as Niall continues.

Cause you were mine for the summer

Now we know it's nearly over

Feels like snow in September

But I always will remember

You were my Summer Love

You always will be my Summer Love

I slide out the door. Inside I hear Harry join in for the last part and my back presses against the glass, tears streaming down my face. He doesn't need to see me like this. That's not why I came.

The music keeps playing behind me as I make my way back to the car. I try to dry them off, but they won't disappear. They're at the final chorus when I slam the car door. My sister touches my hand, smiling.

"Did you do it?"

"Yes," I reply. "I did."