book club

eight || bad jokes

Harry and I are sitting next to each other on the couch, our parents across from us and still talking about world affairs. His knee keeps brushing mine, on purpose I assume. Every time our legs touch I glare at him, only to find amusement behind his glassy green eyes.

"You're so annoying." I huff.

He throws his head back, laughs, and then shrugs. "You're annoying too. You whine to much."

I frown, and we begin to bicker like children. We continue like this, until a deep cough erupts and Harry and I both turn to look at my father, who has a small smile on his face.

"Dinner is ready." He says.

Harry and I both stand at the same time, but I am knocked swiftly back onto the couch by Harry's thick arm. My dad doesn't even notice, he walks with Harry into the kitchen, leaving me there with a scowl and the glare of my subconscious, begging me to push Harry down a flight of stairs.

I force myself to walk into the kitchen, a fake smile plastered on my face as I am told to sit next to Harry. He wiggles happily in his seat, like a puppy, and looking like one too.

Food is passed around and my plate is piled high with everything. So what? I had a little extra on the hips, it kept me warm in the winter. My thighs touch, always have but that seems to define beauty now. Harry is staring at my plate with wide eyes, and for moment I think he is going to criticize my eating habits, but what comes out of his mouth next makes me smile inwardly.

"I respect a girl who can eat as much as I do." He simply states.

I heave a silent breath of relief and continue eating my food. When I'm finish my plate, I can hardly breath. If I wasn't so fortunately graced with Harry's company, I would've already unbuttoned my pants and let my stomach hang out. But no, I'm in the presence of the male species, and they don't seem to find fond the fat that hangs over your jeans.

"I once dated this girl," Harry begins quietly, "And we used to go out to lunch almost every day. And each time we went out, she would order a salad. Just salad, with no ranch or anything. And of all those times she got a salad, I never saw her eat more than two bites. I don't know why she thought that would make me find her more attractive, because it didn't, and I just think it's really cool that you actually eat."

"We're not dating." I correct him.

"No, we're not. We could be, though." He grins. Again, out of all the times I've ever see him perform this action, he winks at me.

"Let's go outside." I say, scooting my chair back from the table and pushing open the back door.

Harry follows me, all the way to the double swing set. I sit in one, him in the other, and we just sit.

"You had a girlfriend?" I ask.

Harry nods and kicks a lump of dried dirt. "Yeah, last summer. Why do you ask?" He questions.

"Just curious." I lie.

"Lea, are you jealous?" Harry teasingly asks me.

I ignore the flush in my cheeks and shake my head. "Hell no, why would I be?" I snap in reply.

Harry laughs so hard that he claps his hands together like a seal. His eyes are screwed tight, mouth open and the dimples in his cheeks are deep. He looks so pretty, yes, pretty. I wish I had a camera to capture the moment.

"Alright, Lea, alright. No need to be frigid, and no need to be jealous either. She was boring, played dumb a lot, and never really got my humor." He says.

"Is that important to you? That someone gets your humor?" I ask.

Harry nods and then turns in his swing to look at me. "Okay, let me tell you a joke."

I nod and wait patiently for him to think of one, and I know he has got one in mind when he starts chuckling.

"Alright, why did the monkey ask the giraffe, 'Why the long face?'" He asks.

I cock my head and tap my chin. "I don't know, why did the monkey ask the giraffe that?" I question.

"Because," Harry busts out laughing, "He- Because he thought his neck was his head."

Harry is laughing hard now, tears are streaming down his face and I can't help but laugh with him.

"My god, that was horrid." I say, wiping a tear from my cheek.

Harry nods and points to me. "It's your turn." He says.

I hum quietly to myself and then snap my fingers. "Oh, I've got one. Why did the the hammer break up with the wrench?" I ask.

"I don't know, why?" Harry echoes in reply.

"Because he was a tool." I say.

We stare at each other, green eyes locked unnervingly with mine, and then, simultaneously, we both burst out laughing.

"Well, I guess when have one thing in common."

"Yeah, we both know how to tell a bad joke."

but remember that joke of harrys aha :)

- S x