dark

eight

"You're so pretty," he whispers to me as I watch him lace his fingers with mine.

He was trying to get my mind off the call and I had to admit, I admired his efforts. I was feeling not like myself and he had put on a movie to distract me.

I had to admit, never in my life had I ever met a guy so interested in film and literature. Harry had tons and tons of books, some of them I had read and others on my list. What amazed me was that I found it so easy to discuss these books with him without feeling like a nerd and he could articulate intelligent opinions that I had never considered. Was I falling in love? Maybe. All I know is that I looked pretty childish clinging to his every word and suspended on every one of his thoughts. It was so easy for me to be myself around him and talk to him with no fear of being judged.

Where I was from- image was everything. One slip up and your reputation was tarnished. I found that when I was there, the expectations had me wound up too tight. Sure, I had friends, but I couldn't actually talk to them about anything that mattered. They only cared about what guy they were dating and shopping. There was nothing wrong with that of course, but I had grown bored of it and out of that.

I was drinking strawberry lemonade on the porch with Harry when he received a phone call. I knew who it was just by the way he groaned and rolled his eyes at the contact name. It was Jamie.

So this was who she was constantly calling all the time. As much as I wanted to fight it, I felt embarrassed for her. I would never chase down a guy like this and bombard him with calls or texts, no matter how much I really liked him. I was not in any position to judge, but still. Couldn't she just get the message?

"Hello?" He answered reluctantly. "I'm not home, so don't come here."

He frowned for a moment. "Well, I just left. No I wasnt with a girl. You know that Mike gossips all the time to start shit. Jesus. No, if you come here, you will not find me. I'm going downtown. To pick up... no, you can't meet me there... I have things to do."

I went about drinking the lemonade and looking around. The woman who lived across from Harry was gardening while a small child lingered close. She had waved at us when she spotted us coming out and Harry had told me she was a friend of his mothers. It seemed like everyone knew each other and was at least friendly, something that came as a shock. Where I was from, people hardly looked at you. There was no friendliness, no small talk, and definitely not any eye contact.

This place was so unreal. Everything I had never encountered was happening here. It was almost a blown up, ethereal version of my small hometown, where you were forced to be someone or at least lie about it to be somewhat accepted by judgemental people who didn't make eye contact, but kept an eye out to catch you slipping. A weight was taken off my shoulders. I could exist here. No one knew me and I could be anyone. A sudden burst of freedom bloomed in my chest and I felt lighter.

Harry got off the phone and sat next to me, sighing before taking out a new pack of cigarettes from his t-shirt pocket. He ripped the plastic off almost angrily, along with the silver paper. He fished one out and handed it to me, soon after taking one for himself.

As he lit his cigarette and mine, I realized that Jamie was bothering him a lot more than I thought.

"What's on your mind?" I asked, blowing the smoke away from his direction.

"Sick of the calls. The texts," he grumbled, "I feel like I'm being stalked. I can't go out without feeling like shes gonna try to meet up or someone telling her where I'm at."

"Just talk to her..."

He scoffed. "I'm beyond talking. I do that too much with her. I blocked her number."

"What happened between you?"

He put his hand on my knee. "Nothing important. We didn't really date or anything. She's always liked me, since we were kids. She's nothing to me, don't worry."

I raised a brow. "I'm not worried."

He looked amused, smirking as he exhaled smoke. "Is that so?"