#lightsup

Harry was a bright student. Harry was a flexible hip-hop dancer. Harry could name all of the books he had ever read and summarize each one like a jeweled ornament. Harry would spend hours in his room with his guitar. Harry would practice his vocals most times. Harry was the captain of the football team.

Y/N skills could be summarised into one word. None.

Harry’s skills could be summarised into a paragraph.

They were such dynamics, and hence in two completely different worlds. Harry would be the center of discussion, keeping everyone aligned, helping everyone out with whatever he could. It would be a godly occurrence if someone even looked at Y/N.

Y/N’s parents were busy being disappointed in her and being proud of their best friend’s son. She was sure, at one point, her parents considered adopting someone better than her.

They might have and she mustn’t know about it.

But as everyone was huddled around her house, her parents, their friends, she pressed herself into a corner, not wanting to be a part of any humiliating stories. She was sure her mother would come around to it and in a peculiar high tone say, “Aria, Mr. Miller’s daughter topped her exam” or “Ricky, Mr. Wilson’s son won a state-level debate competition.”

But most around, she knew her mother would come around to say, “Harry, Anne’s son, is so godly gifted. He has an amazing voice for singing, an amazing brain for exams, and an amazing set of muscles for the football team”

Y/N wished she was any of that. When she was sure no one is going to ask for her, she decided to walk upstairs, to her room. She wished she had any, some kind of hobby to pass time. Her feed was filled with boring repetitive memes and nothing. Her contact list was sort of empty. None except her parents and sister texted her ever. But her sister was busy somewhere around Arizonia, something about being a school teacher there. Her mother practically cried at the thought of having to leave her daughter in another country. But Y/N thought it was most likely because she would go crazy having to leave with a boring daughter. So they got Chickoo, a labrador.

Y/N stared at the ceiling going through her options when she saw a shadow by her door. She stood up from her bed and saw Harry smile near the doorframe. Her shoulders sagged and she fell back on the bed.

“I heard about the painting competition”, he spoke and Y/N rolled her eyes. “Well that’s the only thing that my parents can talk about now for a decade”, Y/N rolled her eyes. “Congrats on the second prize. It’s better than nothing”, Harry spoke, with a dimpled smile.

“It’s of no use though. I am just an average student who is going to get into an average college, marry an average guy by 30 and have average kids by 40 and die averagely. There’s no point in me doing anything extraordinary”, Y/N shrugged, settling on playing games on her phone.

Harry laughed. “What about memories? Don’t you want to reminisce some on death bed?”, Harry asked. “No”, Y/N shrugged again. “Prom is coming, are you prepared?”, Harry asked again. “Those must be your favorite things, not mine”, Y/N sighed. “I am yet to find a date though”, Harry played with his bottom lip. “You just need to say a yes to the thousands of emails, messages and calls you get. You can have more than one date.”, Y/N placed her phone aside looking at him. His green forest eyes, caught a hold of Y/N’s breath. “What about you?”, Harry asked, his voice dropping an octave lower. “Me? I am not going to the prom. I don’t have a dress, neither a date. I can just nap all day”, Y/N blabbered. Harry smiled. “No, Y/N, I meant, would you go to prom with me?”, it rolled off easily from his lips. “She most certainly will”, her mother’s voice came in and she gushed around. Y/N’s lips fell apart and Harry grinned.

Y/N didn’t want to.

“B-But-”, she was cut off in the middle as Harry was ushered downstairs. “There are no buts, Y/N, admit it, it is the best thing you can get in the world. With your standards, no one of average would even take you on a date, let alone people of Harry’s standards. So just go with the flow”, her mother strictly chirped.

Y/N shut up immediately.

This is why her sister left the house as soon as possible.

The next few days, her mother denied her three meals, rather one. “ You are getting fat, shred some weight”, her mother strictly told her. Her mother forced her salads on that one meal, had her go to gym, and parlours. She even picked out a sultry dress for her.

Y/N looked famished, nothing like the girl Harry had fallen in love with. She looked like a copy.

On the prom night, Harry was dressed in a black suit. He had gelled his hair and had brought flowers for Y/N. Y/N’s mother was enthralled. She helped Y/N put on her make up, ornaments and make her hair.

Harry’s face fell on seeing Y/N.

She looked like she hadn’t eaten anything, her pale skin on her hands said well and the makeup on her face said another story. Her distant eyes, never meeting his, when he assumed, they were good friends.

He took her hand, kissed it and led her to his car.

Halfway, he asked. “What’s happening, love? You look like you could pass out any moment”, Harry commented.

“I thought you were going to stand me up”, Y/N said, without looking at him.

“Why’d you think that?”, Harry asked. “Are you sure, this isn’t a prank? Are you sure you really wanted to take me to a date?”, Y/N asked.

“I am positive, cent percent”

“Good because all these days of torture could’ve gone to waste”

Screech.

The car was stopped in the middle of the road.

“What’d you mean by days of torture?”

“Are you aware how perfect you are and how out of line, I am?”, Y/N asked. The nights she had cried to sleep, creeping in.

“Y/N I don’t understand”

“Compared to you, I’m like pond scum. You’ve got looks, grades, grace, every single thing, I got nothing. I got ugly acnes, a measly C in most my subjects and it’d be a miracle if a day went by when I’m not tripping on my leg. It’s really impossible to think that you’d choose me. That’s where changes need to be made. That’s where I needed to be near-perfect to match your charisma”, Y/N spoke crying to herself.

Harry’s warm hand went to hers. His throat constricted. “I’m sorry, love. If I’d known…”, he trailed off.

“You still don’t know, Harry.”, with that Y/N chanted everything out of her body cells not wanting to keep anything inside.

“I--I’m sorry”, Harry said as he held her close, swallowing tears of his own. “Do you want to skip the prom?”, he proposed. “But prom was the sole reason you asked me out”, Y/N peaked from under his hold. “The sole reason was to spend time with you, wanna go to McDonalds?”, he asked. Y/N grinned. “Sure”, she smiled. “But aren’t we overdressed?”

“Well, after that we can find a common ground between McD and our dresses. Somewhere in between, there must be a line for us to meet.”, harry gave a cheeky smile.

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