City of Angels (H.S.)

Chapter 5

"Hiiiii." He dragged the word out again. He grinned a wide, mocking smile at me. Still shirtless, I begrudgingly noticed. 

I tried to ignore him and went to scoop up an armful of water bottles newly stacked in rows on a series of folding card tables. He blocked me, placing his body squarely in front of the table. I blinked up at him, infuriated. "How did you even beat me here?" I challenged, trying to maneuver past him. He stuck one muscular arm out in front of me, blocking me from the table yet again. "Golf cart," he laughed, leaning backwards on the table. "I came around the back way."

I let out a strangled noise of frustration, running my fingers through my hair to push it back from my face. "You know, you really fucked me over with my boss in there," I hissed through clenched teeth. "You were staring at me," he shot back, crossing his arms over his well-defined chest. 

"No!" I practically yelled. This was beyond frustrating. Harry looked down at me practically burning a hole in me with the intensity of his stare. "You were trying to see what I was writing."

This was a clearly a sore subject for him. It piqued my curiosity, but I didn't want to push him. "I wasn't," I said again, holding up my hands in an innocent fashion. "I promise."

His eyes stayed on me for a moment longer. Finally, his gaze softened. "Okay," he relented. "I'm sorry. I'll talk you up to your editor later tonight, alright?"

I started to gather up the water bottles. "Fine," I sighed. I struggled to carry all of the bottles for the team in my arms, and three fell to the tiled floor with a crunch. Harry bent down and easily gathered all three in one hand. "Let me get these, at least," he said, nodding towards the door. I let him grab a few more off the table and followed him out the door and down the hall. 

"So are you still in school?" he asked, clearly trying to sound casual and conversational. 

"Yeah, but this is my last semester," I said, struggling to keep with up him. It took me three strides match one of his. 

"That's nice. I always thought it would be fun to go to university and study something interesting."

"What would you study?" I asked. 

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe philosophy. Or Art History. Or both."

His answered surprised me. "That does sound interesting," I agreed. I made a sweeping gesture around the hallway and said, "I bet this is more interesting, though."

He looked at me sideways, amused. "So you would think."

This really piqued my curiosity. "Are you, y'know, over it?"

He laughed out loud. "I'm not talking about this to a journalist!"

"Well, technically I'm a student, not a real journalist," I countered. "So it's all still fair game." 

He shook his head and laughed again. "Uh-huh, sure." We were just a few feet from the greenroom door now. "Are you coming back for the other show tomorrow?" he asked.

"Um, I think Dave is skipping tomorrow and--," I started, but he cut me off. "I asked if you were coming tomorrow."

"I wasn't planning on it," I answered truthfully.

He stopped outside the door and stretched, the water still in his hands. "If you want to come back tomorrow, come. I'll leave tickets."

I was confused as to why he would even want to do that. "You don't have to," I said. He looked at me quizzically. "I want to." And with that, he turned the corner and headed pack into the people-filled room, leaving me in the hallway to wonder what the hell had just happened.

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