(DISCONTINUED)

○ 1.3 :: Felicia and Anne ○

Dedicated to @conniematis for her comment like 69.69 decades ago

*

I lay on my bed staring at the blank conversation on my phone and hovering my fingers over the keyboard. Under Dylan's advice, I hadn't gone after Harry on Tuesday; I was abiding by Dylan's suggestion about giving him space. However, I had admittedly been purposely going out around campus - particularly over by the frat houses - in a vain attempt to catch a glimpse of him. Part of me was glad I hadn't because I probably would've done something stupid, like grovel for his forgiveness in public. So I hadn't seen or talked to him since he'd stormed out after seeing Dylan and I hugging. I'd read somewhere before that a lot of guys religiously followed the 'Three Day Rule', so I was hoping for three things:

1) That Harry was one of those guys,

2) That the rule worked for girls too,

3) That the pizza I'd ordered would take another seven minutes to arrive from now, because then it'd be free.

Honestly, not talking to Harry had been hell; all I'd wanted to do was go over to his frat house and bang on his door, and if he didn't let me in, I'd kick it down. Hopefully he hadn't gotten his door fixed yet so it wouldn't come to that.

Miraculously, I had managed to sufficiently talk myself out of that definite disaster, but in order not to give in to the pressure, I'd refrained from asking Niall for his number until yesterday night. That actually wasn't a good idea either, because I spent the whole night staring at my phone instead of sleeping. It was utter torture to know that Harry's number was there and I couldn't call it or text it - at least not yet. Eventually I'd actually picked up the phone and just stared at the phone number for so long I'd memorized it. I was thankful I had no classes on Fridays so I could catch up on all the sleep I missed. I'd eventually fallen asleep at around four am, and subsequently woken up at two pm (which was good, because it meant that I couldn't call Harry at the ásscrack of dawn). It was half past three now, because I'd spent ages daydreaming while I was showering and dressing, and then I'd spent the better part of an hour, hesitating, thinking, pacing and accidentally out loud talking to myself as I tried to figure what to text Harry first.

Sorry? No, that sounded like there was something really bad I was apologizing for. I didn't want Harry to think that what he saw was something it wasn't. Hi? No, too casual, like there was absolutely nothing going on. I didn't want to ignore the problem; I wanted to solve it and get past it. Hello was way too formal. Hey seemed kind of suggestive. It wasn't what it looked like seemed even more guilty than sorry. I needed something short and sweet, that acknowledged the problem but still let him know I definitely still wanted him around.

No matter what, I'm not giving up on you x

I pressed 'send' before I could begin to second guess what I'd typed. On second thoughts, it was kind if cheesy, but it was sweet, and it both acknowledged that there was a problem and specifically called on what he'd said a while back about people giving up on him. I let my hands fall to sides and lay spread eagle on my bed. All I could do now was hope for a reply.

And count down the seconds to free pizza.

*

I regrettably paid for my pizza and wished the delivery guy a nice day before I shut the door. I should've been rude to him instead, because he looked way too smug about showing up just on time. My wallet was starting to weep harder with every week that passed. My mother had given me money for the first month of college, but that was where her generosity stopped, and I was already three weeks into the term. I needed to find a job, and fast; I refused to accept Frida's charity as usual.