Curls [H.S. A.U.]

Curls: Chapter 4

Harry

"It's five o' three. You're three minutes late."

"My shoot ran overtime and my ride was late."

"Being punctual is very important in adult life."

Her breathing stops for a second. "I know."

"How's seven tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Sunday."

"Yes," I draw out. "I am aware of that."

She doesn't speak for a moment, but I can hear rustling in the background. She must have just gotten into her home. Barking and giggles follow the closing of what sounds like a door.

"Sundays are my family dinners. How about Monday at seven?"

"Work."

"How about we do lunch, Monday?"

I think for a moment. Louis will be out with his boyfriend for lunch Monday, leaving me to fend for myself when it comes to food. I don't work until later, just paper work, and I'd like to see her as soon as possible.

"Sounds like a plan, how's the café on west 73rd street?" She agrees quickly.

Nobody speaks for a solid minute.

"All right, I guess I'll see you in two days."

"You're guessing right." She laughs at my little joke. We say our goodbyes and hang up.

Louis pops his head through the door and smirks. "Was that you talking to a girrrrrl?" He claps his hands excitedly. "Was it Kendall?"

My eyes roll at my roommate slash best friend. "No, you can say I've forgotten about Kendall Jenner."

His mouth becomes a perfect circle. "Then who was it?"

"Her name is Arabella Pérez and she's probably the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

"Barf." And he walks off.

➖✖➖

I adjust my beanie and send a quick text to Arabella telling her I'm in the café already.

Just as I pick a table she slides into the seat opposite of me. Her hair is pinned back on the sides to keep it from her face and the top is concealed in a matching black beanie to mine. Her flowy Aerosmith tank top is tucked into her black shorts. She greets me with a smile.

"Hello, Harry." She bends over the table and places a kiss on my cheek. "How was your Sunday?"

"Normal. I worked in the morning and was at home for the most part. How was family dinner?"

She shrugs. "A normal, hectic Cuban family dinner. My brothers bothered me and my mother asked for grandbabies."

I crack a smile as the waitress, heavily pregnant I may add, comes up to us and asks what we'd like. Arabella orders a chicken salad with an orange soda, I request the chef make my normal. I give the waitress my name and she waddles off.

"She was so pretty," Arabella mumbles, probably more to herself than to me.

That doesn't stop me from saying something in return. "She was nothing compared to my date." Arabella snaps her attention to me, a blush flaring up immediately. She adjusts her beanie nervously. I shrug nonchalantly. "I'm stating facts."

She looks down and sips on the water I ordered for both of us before she arrived. I follow her actions and take a few gulps of my water. The conversation is steady until the food comes and we don't talk nearly as much. I devour the chicken salad sandwich in record time.

Once we both finish we look at each other for the next move. Arabella decides to take matters into her own hands.

"There's this small band opening in the park, do you want to go?"

"Sounds fun." We both drop some money on the table and head out to the park.

➖✖➖

"I've always wanted to come to one of these," Arabella admits as the next band sets up. "I like watching small bands in concert. It's like discovering a new species of flower."

I manage to capture a few pictures of her in the heat of the afternoon sun and the humidity of having so many people around. She shakes her hands through her damp curls and smiles the biggest smile I've seen from her, and take a picture. She looks at me shocked.

"Did you just--."

"You're too aesthetic to stop. Your natural beauty amazes me."

"There's nothing aesthetic about me."

"Your hair, your clothing, your smile, you." I shrug. "Just to name a few."

We leave after the seventh band and head to the old CD shop closer to my apartment. She digs through the Classic Rock and Jazz CDs and I hang back to snap a few more pictures.

She's suddenly become my muse.

She holds up a Foo Fighters Best Hits album. She squeals like a young girl. "I've been looking for this since I was a teenager."

A small smile graces my face at her enthusiasm and snap another photo. She cocks her perfectly arched eyebrow at me.

"You know, I'm off the clock?" She tisks at me with a flick of a finger nail.

I shrug again. "A photographer is never off the clock. Beauty is everywhere."

"Would you quit calling me beautiful!" Her face burns a bright red at the elderly couple that smiles at us, clearly hearing my comment towards her.

Arabella purchases the album, still red in the face. The check out clerk mindlessly scans her CD and takes her black credit card.

Together we exit the shop. Arabella insists on getting ice cream before we part ways. She orders a cup of soft serve vanilla with caramel syrup and rainbow sprinkles. Me, a chocolate waffle cone with triple chocolate sorbet.

We eat the treat until we reach where we have to part. I turn to Arabella. "I will call you when I think of a second date."

She nods and we remain silent.

She surprises me and leans in to kiss my cheek. I can feel the lipstick residue left behind. She looks down and fiddles with her fingers. I use my index finger and push her chin up. We lock eyes for a brief moment.

I press a kiss to her forehead.

"Until next time, Arabella."

"Goodbye, Harry."