A Moment in the Crowd

Chapter 19: Sound good?

Lily:

I eat my dinner quietly, focusing my mind elsewhere the entire time. This is the first time I've seen my brother all day, and my mother and sister sit across the table from us. 

My younger brother is a tall, deep voiced, fourteen-year-old kid. Rose teases him all the time by comparing him to a grasshoper. The comparison always warrants a laugh because it's pretty accurate. He's a handsome enough guy for being so young, but he's massively tall and his arms and legs are like twigs. They're so thin and we're constantly pestering him about his eating habits. Jacob has always been a picky eater. When we put a hamburger on his plate, he'll devour at least two of them, but if we eat pasta he'll survive the evening on midnight snacks instead.

The empty seat at the end of our glass dining table stands out to me every time we sit down for a meal. My family is missing its vital piece. Just last summer my Dad left us for a girl half his age, literally, and moved in with her. The young girl he's supposedly still dating has been one of many throughout his marriage with my mother. The pain from the still recent loss of her twenty-year marriage is so evident on my mother's face, and always clear in every conversation we have. She can't get through normal dinnertime chatter without mentioning him, even lightly. 

I know that my mother is hurt, and it has caused her protection of her children to grow even more from it. Despite the pain that my father has caused our family, we're actually pretty used to not having him around. He was and always has been an absent figure in my life. Every meal we had from the time I was eleven, he wouldn't attend. It wasn't until I was older that my mother explained his whereabouts. Usually, I learned, he was out at bars and clubs, and he'd apparently stumble in at outrageous times only to be greeted with my mother's screams. 

"So Lily's had an exciting few days, eh?" My sister's half question, half statement, snaps me away from my train of thought. 

"Yeah, exciting." I state blankly to them.

My numbness to the conversation, and emotionless statements makes it known that I'm in no mood to elaborate on today's debacle. Yesterday seems like the complete contrast to what my daily life was, and is. 

-

It's not hard for me to slip back into the banal and repetitive routine of my summer job and boring time spent in front of the television screen. I waste my days away searching Twitter for any sign of a response from Harry. So far, it hasn't come.

It's easy to become who I was before, bored and finding pleasure in the simple activity of buying new shoes. But after such an incredible day that I can't help myself from thinking back on constantly, how can I possibly settle for this measly manner of existence? My "fifteen minutes of fame" as you would say passes quickly. Soon people on Twitter stop asking me why Harry followed me and if I'm "that girl from the article". 

It's been exactly two weeks now since that day. I haven't been able to find a name for it in my mind, other than secretly knowing that it was the best day of my life. I might as well mark it down on the calendar and be that crazy girl who celebrates it every year like it's her birthday. 

My phone buzzes on my bedside table, and I've only just kicked the habit of hoping it's a response from Harry. 

I'll pick you up at yours in ten minutes, sound good?

My best friend, Addison, that I've known since I was three-years-old responds to our previously scheduled date. I haven't seen her in a few months and I'm excited to hang out again. We're going to see some sappy rom-com that we both agreed could actually be funny. 

I run to the bathroom to make sure my makeup and outfit looks alright. A few seconds later, I hear a light tap at the front door and although it's been less than ten minutes, I assume that she's just early. 

"Coming!" I scream to the door downstairs, hoping she'll be able to hear me.

I run back to my room, grab my purse with everything in it and rush back down the wooden staircase. I don't look through the glass frame of the door, covered by an intricate design, to see if it's Addison. I unlock the silver rim and swing it open.

Instead of Addison, I find myself face to face with Harry.