Taylor:
Walking down the streets of New York holding back tears is a challenge. I can confirm that.
And I couldn't just let the beautiful person get me a new hot chocolate, no, I just had to storm off, like I always do.
Walking into my apartment, I grab my journal, and start writing.
1. Stop being antisocial.
2. Reconnect with family and friends.
3. Find the boy from the coffee shop.
4. Go out more.
There's my to-do list. Short, sweet, and to the point. I'm guessing I should start with calling Mom.
"Hello? Taylor, is everything alright?"
Here goes nothing.
"Um, yeah. I wanted to know if you and Dad wanted to maybe come up to New York and stay with me for a few days, maybe?"
"Oh Taylor, we'd love to. I'll start packing now. I love you!"
And with that, she hung up.
***
One week later. One week after I saw that boy at the coffee shop, and one week since I invited my parents to come visit me. One week.
Now here I am, cleaning my apartment so my parents have a room to sleep in, and a not-cluttered apartment to stay in. Progress.
"Meredith I'm going for coffee, don't let strangers into the apartment."
While I have made progress, I haven't made a lot of progress; I've only attempted to reestablish a relationship with my parents, and try to find a boy I saw for about 73 seconds.
Speaking of, I wonder if he'll be at the coffee shop today, it's been a week.
Stop thinking like that, it'll just lead to disappointment if he's not there.
Or, he could be there. Just maybe.
***
Breaking news: he's not here. Well it's not like I was expecting him to be here, I mean he made actually contact with me, there's a chance he might be afraid to leave his house because of that.
Just as I'm about to order, someone cuts in front of me. This happens all the time, and I hate it, but what am I gonna do to stop it?
"Excuse me but I think she was in front of you!" I hear a voice speak up behind me.
That voice. It couldn't be, no, it's not.
But it is. It's the boy from last week. Sticking up for me.
"And what are you gonna do about it?" the man who cut me off asks him. No, please don't ruin his face- did I actually just think that?
While they were locked in an intense stare down, I found my way to the front of the line, ordered my usual hot chocolate, and tried to leave the shop unnoticed.
"Wait!" That same voice calls after me.
"Umm, I really have to go."
"I just need to ask, are you the girl from a week ago? I mean I'd hate to call you that but if you are her, that's all I know," I mean I think I know the answer to this one.
"Umm, yeah. I'm her. I guess," I reply.
"I'm Harry," well that's a straight foreword reply.
"Umm, I'm Taylor. Listen, I really have to go now so," I trail off.
"Well, could I maybe have your phone number, maybe?"
Instead of answering, I scribble down my number on a small strip of paper, and rush out the door, wondering two things: what just happened, and did I just give the guy I've spent the last week thinking about my phone number?
Yes, and yes.
A/N: HI GUYS!!!!
So I know this was a really short chapter, but that's because my "creative juices" have not exactly been "flowing" lately, but I know I've been "working on an update" for the past 84 years, so I threw this together.
Anyway, I just got back from a choir field trip and I am exhausted. In other news, I have some ideas for this story's future, but I remembered that I have to write something before I can get to my good ideas.
So I guess that's it?¿?
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