One week.
It's been one week since my last occurrence with Harry.
He hasn't tried reaching out to me not even once.
It was Saturday night. Zara, once again, was trying to convince me into going to another frat party.
I wasn't thrilled about it, not even a bit, but I did not have anything better to do than to watch horny young adults rubbing on each other on a Saturday night.
Zara showed up in my apartment at seven with a pizza from my favorite Italian restaurant in Flint — the only good one; not even close to the authentic Italian cuisine, but I had to settle.
"Not again," I complained.
We were currently sat on the sofa debating what to do on that dull night.
"Please," she begged. "I won't leave your side, I promise."
"Of course." I rolled my eyes at her oath. "Like last week. No thank you."
I stood up from the couch, not sure where I was heading but wanting to get out of the conversation.
Zara audibly followed me, remarking each step in the cracking floor.
She didn't open her mouth as I entered my bedroom and took a pair of torn jeans on the knees and a purple tank top.
"Thank you, thank you!" She said jumping in ecstasy. "You won't regret it!"
"I'm already regretting it," I replied before making my way to the bathroom and closing the door behind me.
The boisterous electronic music was ferociously beating in my ears as we entered the same doorway that just a few weeks before I passed with Harry.
Zara fastened her stride and walked towards a group of people in a circle, tagging me along by grabbing my arm.
"Guys, hey!" she shouted, trying to overhang the sound of the music.
A few guys turned their head facing us. Visages I've never seen before glanced at me as I stood up there, unsure of what to do next.
"Zara. Didn't think you would make it," a tall guy approached to us, swiftly hugging my best friend before turning his attention to me. "And you are?"
I looked down, noticing that he was wearing a pair of kaki jeans with a simply blue shirt.
His pale eyes shining against mine as I took all his beauty in once I lifted my head up again.
He then scanned my whole body with his eyes, making me nervous and in awe.
"She's Connie," Zara answered for me.
"Nice to meet you, Connie." His voice was so low that I struggled to pick up every word he said. "I'm Caleb."
I simply nodded. His attractiveness was almost frightening. He never dropped his gaze off me as I laid my eyes on everything but him.
"Do wanna you dance?" He asked gesturing the most-likely drunk crowd in the middle of the living room.
"Umh...I—"
"She doesn't dance," A voice behind me cut me off.
I shut my eyes as I recognized the unmistakable voice that belonged to the person I longed for the whole week.
"Ow, bro. Let me have some fun for once."
"Go get a whore in the mass there, Caleb."
Caleb didn't say a thing as stepped away, leaving me just with Harry.
"You okay?" He finally spoke when I turned around to face him.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Just try to avoid Caleb. He's no good."
I didn't answer as I contained my giggles at the sight of his hearted shirt.
"What are you laughing at?" He asked.
"Nothing," I answered biting my lower lip as he rolled his eyes.
"Really."
"Just...your shirt. I don't know, didn't know it was your style."
"You don't like it?" He seemed offended at my confession as he looked down at his shirt, checking if there was something wrong on it.
"No, I really like it. It's cool." I reassured him as he smiled back at me.
His hair was messy like any other day as tight ringlets fell around his face, entirely covering up his left eye.
"How do you always end up here when it's clear that you don't like it?"
I never specifically said that I hated parties to him, yet he knew.
Not that it was too difficult to realize, as I usually left after half an hour, didn't dance, and didn't interact with anyone.
"I let Zara drag me into this mess every time, and I regret it every time." I sighed.
He lets out a little laugh before saying, "Well, I'm not feeling very well. Do you want go home with me?"
I looked around in search for Zara, whom was nowhere to be seen, like always.
A ride would be most likely the best thing that could happen that day.
I nodded, "you'd make me a favor."
"Let's go then."
The car ride was quiet. Me being too caught up into my own thoughts to start a proper conversation, Harry clearly not in the mood to formulate any word.
I wasn't mad at him for not even trying to reach out to me the previous week. Mad was not the correct way to put it. Maybe hurt. I thought we had built a good friendship over the past few weeks, even if it was based on philosophical debates and Italian tutoring.
But that week showed me that he didn't want anything from me but help in his classes.
I unlocked my seat belt as he diverted into the parking lot of our building.
I was about to open the car door as Harry gently grabbed my forearm and said, "wait."
His tone was raspier than ever, thing that I just noticed just then as we weren't in the loud atmosphere of the party anymore.
"Yeah?"
"Would you...would like to go out tomorrow? With me?" He said, pushing his hair back on one side.
That's when I noticed his left eye. Blood and other fluids were collected in the space of the skin around the shiny eye, swelling and dark bruising in the tissue. I gasped, covering my mouth with the left hand in surprise.
"What the hell happened?"
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