Mutinous

Chapter 6

All day Jen had been on my nerves. She simply wouldn't stop bothering me about Harry. She wanted me to call him though I had made it very clear that I had nothing to say. She suggested asking him on a date, but that was totally out of the question. In classes we had caught eye contact a few times with an occasional smile, however it had been nothing but that. No words had been shared since Friday night and not that I did not want us to talk, but I was too shy to take the step myself.

"If you don't go talk to him I will."

"You won't," I protested. I didn't want to make a fool out of myself.

"Well this whole 'I'm smiling at you, you smiling at me thing' without talking is creeping me out."

"I don't think you are making any sense," I laughed trying to hide the uneasiness this conversation was giving me.

"You laugh all you want, but you're missing out on something great. I know it."

"And how is it that you happen to just know?"

"Because I'm psychic."

Once again I laughed. "I'm serious, El. I don't really know him, but from what I can tell, this one is different."

"Different how?" I needed to know for sure, because I didn't trust my own intuition enough even if I had thought the same.

"A good different." Our eyes met, and I could tell she meant what she said. I was sure I had already known, but that did not make things any simpler.

"What about Louis?" I tried not liking her interrogation about Harry.

"First, I don't have his number. Second he doesn't look at me the way Harry looks at you, and third this isn't about me, this is about you and the hot guy staring in our direction." She pointed to the far corner of the room with my eyes following, and I made eye contact with the same boy all my thoughts had been haunted by for the past week.

I watched him as he slowly came towards us.

"Gotta go." Jen was quick to disappear before Harry came over and sat down next to me.

His hair was in a bun better looking than the ones I made myself yet, he looked anything but feminine. His left arm was covered in tattoos, and if someone had asked me two weeks ago what I thought of tattoos, I would have said I did not like them. But they suited him. Just like his wrinkled flannels, suede boots and shoulder length hair suited him.

"I hope this seat isn't taken." He smiled, and I felt my heart skip a bit. I liked how his dimples would show whenever he smiled.

"It is now," I heard myself say through my thoughts.

"You alright?"

"Yes. I'm good. How 'bout you?"

"Brilliant."

"Good." I bit the inside of my cheek not knowing what to say or do next.

"So-" he started while my heartbeat increased, "you never called."

I felt bad, as I saw the look on his face. "Sorry," I apologized with sweaty hands. "I didn't think you'd want me to."

He chuckled slightly making me feel uneasy. "Then, I wouldn't have given you my number."

"Right." I felt dumb and knew I probably resembled a tomato. "I thought you were just being polite. Didn't think you'd actually want me to call."

He licked his bottom lip. "I did. Mainly because I wanted to see you again."

My heartbeat was galloping in my chest, and I wanted to hit myself with a hammer for being so stupid. "I'm so stupid." I rested my head in my hands not wanting him to look at me.