By Chance

10 - Harry

Even at 11 in the morning, Tom never took a break from interrogating me. He made Paddy look like a delightful angel.

"Did she text back?" he asked for the millionth time, and yes, I was counting.

"No, Tom," I groaned in agony, my voice giving out from saying it over and over, not to mention it didn't at all help my self-esteem. Why was it taking her so long to respond? It says she read the message, but why didn't she text back?

After an agonizing 60 minutes of Tom grilling me with questions about Genevieve every second (which made it seem like an hour multiplied by a thousand), we finally arrived at LAX, and I was anxiously looking for a moment of peace. I don't care where it happens, it just has to happen soon, or Hollywood will lose one of its most beloved actors.

I grabbed my suitcase out of the back of the car and fast-walked ahead of Tom to get my long-awaited moment of solitude. Dangit. I remembered that Tom had to have someone with him, so the fangirls don't kill him with their ear-shattering girly screams, which meant that my break from Tom would have to wait. I sighed and stopped walking, allowing Tom to catch up. I looked behind me to find him jogging up to me, dragging his plastic suitcase behind him.

"Try to slow up for the old people next time, okay?" he asked out of breath, still managing to let out a laugh.

"You aren't old if you can do 200 push-ups in one minute without breaking a sweat."

We brought our luggage to the drop-off area, which made me smile because that's where I met Genevieve, and Tom didn't cease to notice.

"I know what you're thinking of," he pried with a mischievous grin strewn over his face, causing me to let out a huff.

"Yeah, no kidding," I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I set my small suitcase on the conveyor belt.

We walked over to the waiting area and found a pair of seats that were a little away from everyone else so that we wouldn't attract much attention. Tom pulled out his phone and started scrolling through Instagram, telling me my time had come; I could finally get my moment of peace.

"Hey Tom, it seems pretty dead over here. I'm going to get a coffee. You want one?" I asked, begging him inside my mind to want one too. That way, it'll take longer.

"Yeah, sure, you know what I want, right?" he asked, waiting for a response.

I let out a slightly over-eager nod and walked away, getting one last glimpse of him tightening his hoodie and looking back at his phone screen. I breathed a sigh of relief, finally able to get some time to myself, even if it was only 20 minutes.

After looking at the airport directory for around five minutes, I finally located the glorious Starbucks. I took the escalator up to the second level and found it in minutes, which I wasn't too happy about. I took my sweet time thinking about what I wanted, even though I was already well aware of what I usually ordered, but I'll do anything to get away from Tom's pesky questions.

After taking enough time to be glanced at by a few curious bystanders, I decided to order. I got my usual: a Cloud Macchiato with chocolate and caramel drizzle and Tom's iced matcha tea. Now, I love tea, but I can make that at home. But at Starbucks, one must stick to the status quo. While I waited for my order, I opened up my phone and found myself in my Instagram inbox, checking to see if I had missed a notification. There were thousands upon thousands of unread messages from other girls, but none from the one that mattered. I was as bad as Tom. I glanced at the top of my screen and saw the call button. It was so cringy to call on Instagram, but I had no other means of communication with the girl. I had never thought of calling her before. London is eight hours ahead, so it's not like I'll be waking her or anything.