Constant // Harry Styles

Chapter Four: "What does he see in her?"

It had been almost a full week.  It was Friday and I hadn't seen Cameron.  I hadn't heard from him.  The only reason I knew he was okay was because I had heard of him from two Sophomore girls fawning over him in the salad bar line in front of me at lunch on Thursday. 

It was damp and cold outside - cold enough to see your breath - but I had to be outside for most of the afternoon.  One of my psychology courses required that I did five observational studies before the end of the semester.  These were unobtrusive studies, meaning that I could be no part of them or do anything to manipulate any of my fellow classmates.  I was required to pick one variable, like how many students were wearing headphones, how many students were chewing gum, how many students were chatting on the phone, and record my observations without making it look like I was actually studying anyone.  In short, I was just watching people.  On this particular Friday, I was counting the number of males versus females that were sporting anything Holbrooke-related - hoodies, beanies, gloves, lanyards - anything with the Holbrooke rotunda or mascot on it.

I hesitantly lowered my bottom onto a chilly, metal bench along the stretch of sidewalk in front of the student union, plugged in my headphones, and pulled The Catcher in the Rye out of my bag.  On page 56, I had a small blank paper and a pencil to record my observations.  I began to tally each guy or girl that walked past me, each in their proper category of "guys with/without spirit wear" and "girls with/without spirit wear."  I shivered when a cold wave of wind blew past me.  The wave was caused by someone's body swiftly sneaking up on me and sitting beside me on the bench. 

"Rory."

"Harry," I said, tugging a headphone from my ear.  

"It's a bit chilly out here for people-watching, isn't it?"  He said, rubbing the black gloves covering his hands together and watching a group of girls as they passed us.   His hair was down today, the brown curls more pronounced than usual since there was no humidity to make them frizzy.  His slim-fitting peacoat didn't look as warm as he needed it to be.  The tip of his long nose and skin under his bright, green eyes were red from the nippy wind. 

"If you're cold, you can go inside," I said.

"I could," he said, leaning back and getting comfortable on the bench.  I gazed at another group of students that passed and counted two boys with dark blue Holbrooke beanies on, three girls with nothing.  "What are you counting today?" Harry asked, nosily peeking around the edge of my book.

"School spirit wear," I told him, turning the book so he could see my page of quick and crude marks. 

He grinned.  "Mark one more for the men," he told me, pulling the front of his coat open to reveal a long-sleeved burgundy Holbrooke shirt. 

"Gotcha," I said, putting a tally under the "men with spirit wear"category.

Harry swiftly tugged his coat shut and sat back against the seat, tapping his fingers along the edge of the bench seat and bouncing his knees.  

"Can I assist you with something?" I finally asked.  "You seem anxious." 

Harry pursed his lips.  "Not anxious.   Just want to make sure you're doing okay." 

I cocked my head at him.  "I'm fine," I said honestly.  Part of me was dying to ask about where Cameron had been all week, but I knew he wouldn't tell me if I asked. 

Harry looked surprised, to say the least.  "Are you sure?"

I glanced around, unsure about what was going on at this point.  I almost wished he would leave since I needed to do this study, anyway. "Uh... I think so?"