snitch

16

This is a peony for anyone wondering. It's a type of flower. The picture is from google:)

Stella Flores

Tuesday turned to Wednesday and Wednesday turned to Thursday. Before I knew it, it was Friday. After school today I'm meeting with Harry at the park. Our park, in his words.

I rush out of my last class, nervous to see Harry. I hadn't seen him since the day in the parking lot when he said he can't let me get involved with him. I have no clue what that means but what I'm more worried about is why in the world would he want to meet up with me today. What was so important that he needed to plan a time to talk about it?

I walk out of the back gate and wave to Mrs. Avery who was always directing dismissal. She game me her lovely smile, forcing me to give her one back.

I'm not sure why I was so anxious to see Harry. I think it's because he was a straightforward person so if he had to reserve a time to talk about something, it was important.

I finally complete the short walk to the park we planned to meet at, and to my surprise he wasn't late this time. In fact he was sitting on the floor, in a criss cross position. He had one elbow on his knee, leaning on his face on his hand. He hadn't seen me yet. His attention was on his other hand, that he was spinning a single flower.

A pink peony.

I clear my throat softly. Holding my book, Little Women, in my hands in front of me. He looks up and stands. I had expected him to do his signature face, but he looked very serious. Maybe even sad.

With a hint of concern in my voice, "Is everything okay?" My eyes meet his and he licks his lips and looks down, avoiding my eye contact. Something was definitely wrong.

He nods his head, and brings the flower in between us, holding it out to me. I take it, smiling. I bring it to my nose, smelling it.

"Another to add to your collection." He half smiles, and takes a deep breath. Was he nervous?

I bring my gaze back to his face and he looked really upset about something. Not even necessarily angry, more like down or bothered. "Harry, seriously. What's wrong?"

He harshly throws his arms up in the air, and scoffs. Quickly changing the mood of this moment. "You're always asking questions."

Harry is officially the most confusing person I have ever dealt with.

I remained quiet, not a single word or emotion was displayed by me.

He takes a few small steps towards me, making our bodies almost meet. The top of his head, leaned against the top of mine. I kept my eyes open, studying his face as best as I can. His eyes were shut, as if he was in pain.

He looked like he was hurt, deeply hurt. I didn't know how to help, considering I didn't know what was going through his head.

He suddenly pulls away from me and sits on the floor. "Sit with me Anise."

I quickly sat next to him, hoping he would tell me what the hell was going on with him.

He placed one hand on his knee, making it very close to me and easy to study. His finger tips were stained red like always. It wasn't a very dark or bright red. It was a subtle shade.

I decided to make small talk, "Why are your finger tips always stained red?"

He looks down to his hand, flipping them so his palms were facing upwards. He examined his hands before murmuring, "Another fucking question."