Bring Me Home // Harry Styles
On this particularly nice evening I drove up to the station to see Seb. The sun will be setting soon meaning the golden hour before a lovely cotton-candy-like sunset is soon upon us, and my depressed ass wasn’t going to miss my chance for a moment of calmness. My car tire hits one of the big potholes and I curse this place for its dismissiveness of vehicle safety and my wallet. Getting out I see Seb inside filling the candy at the counter. I pull my supplies from my trunk and place the chairs near the door under the lotto sign. As I open the beach umbrella I hear a car pull up to a pump; I look to see if they need help but it seems they’re competent so I focus back on the task at hand.
“June, dear, what are you doing?”
“Ah yes, Sebastian, thank you for joining me here today,” I drag the cooler from my back seat and place it in front of the umbrella, between the chairs. “You see tonight is supposed to be a very special night,” I sit in one of the chairs and crack open a soda. Seb waits for me to finish but picks up a drink and takes a seat anyway. “It’s the night before summer.” I toast him.
He chuckles and sips his lemonade. “You know you could have bought these here and given the store money,”
“Where else would I have gotten them?” I tsk. “I bought them before closing last night.” We wave as the gas pumper drives off, then sit in silence for many moments while the golden sun creeps up on us. The rattling in my chest has turned into the slow drip of an hourglass. I’m not sure how much time it has given me but I’m determined to use every last grain.
“I am very proud of you and your friends, you know,” he says. “He was a good man.” My eyes are closed and I stay in this moment a little longer before responding.
“Thank you, Seb. He was.” We sit in silence again as I watch the waves roll softly in.
Moments before a black Range Rover drives up, Seb goes inside. Too much time spent in the sun thinking of loss can turn a person away. So he goes back into the cool shop where he can look at a picture of his wife and be distracted by a game show. The man waves, putting the nozzle in the tank and walking over.
“Yeah no, you really shouldn’t leave it like that,” I call. I hold my hand above my eyes, shielding the sun.
He turns back to the car and then back to me, “Eh, I think it’s probably okay,”
Why am I always telling this man what to do? “Ah,” I say when he’s in front of me, “It’s you,”
He laughs, “I hope that’s okay.”
I just shrug and offer him the other beach chair. “Unless it’s you know, not up to your standards,” He raises an eyebrow in defiance and takes a seat. I open the cooler and he picks out water. Boring. “I hope you at least turned it off,” I motion toward his car.
“Of course,” he holds up his keys. I’m taking a drink but I give an enthusiastic thumbs up for a job well done. “You seem better than the last time I saw you,” he says carefully.
“Yeah, well. Time heals all wounds,” I look back at the sea and play with the latch on the cooler. “That’s what they say at least,” I take another drink. He doesn’t say anything, and we spend a moment in silence. I wonder what L’s he might be remembering. His pump stops and I instinctively stand to take care of it. He catches my arm before I get far.
“We offer assistance to those clients who,” I pause for effect, “Need it,” I give a small but reassuring pout and rub his forearm. “And, well, seeing as how you left your pump unsupervised one can only assume this may be new to you,”
“Mm,” He hums, “Then by all means,” he steps out of the way and allows me to pass.
“Thank you,” I say courteously. I return the nozzle and cap his tank, closing the latch. To drag it out I take the squeegee from its holder and wash his window as well, making sure to get his lights. Then remembering this is a very expensive car, I pray I didn’t ruin anything by doing that. Putting the squeegee away I make a quick glance at him, he isn't angry so I let out the breath I've been holding. “Well there you are,” I say, trying to Vannah White his car but probably looking more like Will and Jada Picekett Smith at the red carpet.
“You’re very good at your job,”
“Well, to be fair, it is not hard,”
I stand near his driver side mirror as he walks closer. “Why don’t you get one that’s more challenging?” His question sounds sincere but playful.
“I already have that,” I counter. And I do, but it doesn’t pay well. Or at all. He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow questioningly. “Maybe I’m a hitman?” A lie too close to the truth. “Or maybe I’m not. You know I can’t really talk about it,” I give a defeated shrug.
“I suppose that’s not something one should reveal. But a very interesting secret indeed,” his eyes are too green, too intense. I fold under their weight so I refocus my energy. I look back at the sun giving me peak golden hour vibes, I smile and release some tension. “You like watching the sunset?” he asks.
“I do, I came up here for it,”
He frowns, “I don’t want to stop you enjoying it,” he turns slightly, giving me an exit that I take.
I smile at him and continue on my way. I get a few steps and almost turn but I hear his door open and close. His car starts driving as I get to the chairs; I go to wave but he’s gone.
“Okay, then,” I grumble and grab a book from my bag.
“You know he dies at the end?” He calls a few moments later.
I throw my arms up then slam the book shut. “Why?” I ask incredulously. “You were gone, you should have stayed gone,” his head dips as he laughs. “And a little rude without a thank you or goodbye, might I add,” I throw the ruined book back in my bag.
“I like the dramatics a little,” He takes the other chair again. “I think this would be nicer on the beach, yeah?”
A small shiver runs through me, “Yeah,” I manage out. We grab everything and take it down. As I set it up he disappears back up to the station, probably securing his car. I take that moment to enjoy the silence and the secret between Elijah, the Ocean, and I. If the three of us can work together we can make retribution happen. But for now I watch the pink and peach sky marry the water in a beautiful matrimony.
A can opening pulls me back as Harry hands me a beer. A beer? A gas station beer. I look at him confused. I make direct eye contact with his “You Booze You Lose” tattoo and give a small laugh.
“I thought it was the right occasion,” he sounds a little disheartened as he brings the can back to him.
I quickly grab it, “Thank you,” I rush out, not trying to seem ungrateful. “Thanks.” I take a drink. “Wait, what’s the occasion? The sunset?”
He looks instantly uncomfortable as if maybe this was all a bad idea. “Your friend, Seb, said it's the night before summer,” I nodded. “And that it's… also.. Uh,”
“Eli’s birthday,” I sit back in the chair and take another drink. I didn’t think he’d remember. That old man is full of surprises.
“Sorry,” he slides in the chair, still stiff and uncertain.
“Thank you for this,” I smile at him, making both of us more at ease. Funny to me that he’d be the nervous one.
We watch the sunset with easy conversation and laughs. It lights us up and gives our bodies warmth like we're old friends. I thank it in my mind, and I thank Seb for his words, I thank this beer for warming my mind, I thank Harry’s voice for it’s steadiness, I thank the waves. I watch him talk, a little rose tint to his cheeks, his dimples forming with smiles, he's happy and animated. I haven’t been his kind of carefree for a long time. The cold in the pit of my stomach threatens to ice over so I take another sip, and another, and another. I imagine my cheeks match his now. I rest my head back on the seat and for a time I don’t feel the coldness. He stops talking so I lazily turn to him. His smile reaches his eyes with curiosity so I have to admit that I may have drifted off in my own mind.
He laughs lightly and pats my hand, “It’s okay, June.”
The sun has left us, replaced by the moon. There’s no fire to keep us warm this time, no dancing or singing, no other friends. But there is a plan now. I stare back at the moon and dare it to tell me not to, naturally it doesn’t. It will keep my secrets.
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