Love and All It Does

06

Anika's POV

I'm not going to cry. No, not in this place. Not where people would see me. And definitely not in front of Harry.

No matter how hard I try to pave my focus back onto what I was reading, I just can't, knowing that Harry still had his eyes on Stacy. I have reread one sentence over and over and I still can't convey what it meant. I shake my head lightly and attempted to clear my mind. I have to study, I need to study.

I knew Harry was debating whether or not he would approach her. I'm sure he wanted to, but couldn't because then he would have to figure out how to say it in a way that wouldn't offend me.

I already felt so, even though he hasn't said anything yet. So, to make things easy for him, I pretend to be getting a call from home. "I'm at a café—Alright, fine, I'm leaving—Yes, I'm going, yeah, bye."

I quickly gather my things, shoving my pens and highlighters inside my bag and slinging it on my shoulder.

"Hey, wait. Where are you going?" Harry's hand lands on mine as I was dragging my book from the table. I glanced down on it, sliding my hand away in an instant and carrying my books with it instead.

"I have to go. Grandaddy needs help." I forced a smile. "Thank you for the coffee." I don't wait for him to answer and rushed through the glass doors, screwing my eyes shut to fight back tears.

Harry's POV

Fortunately unfortunate, Anika was already out of the cafe just as Stacy spotted me from her seat. She looked so different, at least not in the way I used to remember.

She stands up and began walking towards our table. I knew at some point, I have to ask her for a proper closure. I deserved that. Seeing her again after two years pained my heart as I remember clearly how she had left me.

She had to leave on our first proper date. I was meaning to surprise her at her house with a bouquet—not of flowers for she suffers from pollen allergy—but of chicken nuggets instead. Also because she once told me she wished bouquets where made of food instead of flowers.

I remember being at their doorstep before she wakes up at exactly eight in the morning, only to find the house without a sign of life in it. It was pitch black inside and the curtains were drawn towards each other—the one thing that rarely happens unless the entire family is out. I thought Therese, Stacy's mom, might have slept her alarm off, so I decided to wait up for a few more minutes.

Half an hour has passed. They should be awake now, I thought. I knocked and got no answer in return. I rang Stacy up, but it only went straight to her voicemail. I was beginning to worry about what could have happened. I texted her to ask if she was awake, but only to earn another hour to wait.

Shortly after, my phone buzzes a text message from her. I'm sorry, it read. I smiled for I thought she was just apologizing for waking up late. I messaged her back saying, It's okay, I'm out on your front door pls come down :), but she never did.

I remember sending her tons of messages.

Hey, are you okay?

Is everything alright?

Where are you?

Did you forget what day is it today?

It's okay, I'm not mad if that's what you're thinking

Stop making me worry, Stace

Where are you?

Answer my calls