Hopelessly Devoted

11

I never did call Harry.

Maybe I didn't want to sound clingy, maybe I was too scared, I don't know.

I debated in my mind calling him, never once being able to bring myself to do it. It was later that afternoon as I walked through the local vinyl record shop, looking for something new.

Music was definitely a hobby of mine. Not making it, but to collect and listen.

My finger traced over hundreds of vinyls. Every single one a different color or design, each holding inside their slip a piece of artwork someone had put out.

Every song was a story and every singer told their story through song.

As I look around glancing from record to record, questioning if my bank account can go through another splurge at this store.

That's the bad thing about college. You're broke as fuck.

I come here often, almost as much as the bookstore. I find peace and tranquillity here as well. Whether it being the soft music in the background or the minimal amounts of people, the copious amounts of music to choose from. It all gave me the same feeling.

Every record looks different, each catching my attention in their own way. As I shop, my mind can't help but go back to Harry and his number sitting there in my phone, waiting to be called.

His name runs through my mind as I look at every record that somewhat reminds me of him. The dark edgy covers, the red covers for his boxing gloves, the pinks for his personality at times.

Should I call? He did ask me too.

I never usually called. I did with Grayson at first, he just never answered so I stopped. What if Harry didn't pick up? What was I going to say?

Without a second thought, I pull out my phone quickly, swiping to the messages app. I open a new message and I start typing his name quickly into the search bar before I can back out.

Harry Styles:

Me: i miss you-

I type out, but decided to delete the message not wanting to sound clingy, or more importantly admitting to myself I missed him.

I start again with a simpler message.

Me: hi.

That was good. I think? Fuck, I hate this. I sent the message before I could chicken myself out. I watch as the message turns blue and then underneath my small text it says delivered.

Immediately I want to throw my phone across the room. Now here I am, standing in the middle of the record shop with a death grip on my phone waiting for a boy who I barely know to answer my text.

While in need of collecting myself, I calmly place my phone in the back pocket of my jeans I changed into from this morning. My ripped denim and tight black halter was all I wore today.

I didn't have any classes so my day was completely clear. Anna and I had gone separate ways after coffee. She was supposedly hanging out with some friends from her english class. She invited me, but I would have rather done something else.

Anna and I spent so much time together usually that it was nice for her to go and get out some other times. I'm really glad she's been spending a lot of time with Grant as well. He seems like a really good guy, and I need to get to know him better.

I felt my phone buzz in my back pocket a moment later, making my entire being freeze. I took my hand off the vinyl I had picked up, placing it back in its original position with shaky hands.