habits of my heart (h.s.)

four

In the movies, it's always made out to be a romantic scene when the main character accidentally dumps her coffee on the charming male lead. In the movies, it's a meet-cute, and the guy just laughs amidst your profuse apologies and tells you that it's fine.

Unfortunately, my life was not a movie, and Harry was clearly not a charming male lead either, because when I spilled my coffee all over his white shirt that morning, he wasn't so much forgiving as he was disgruntled.

"Jesus Christ!"

I glanced up at him with big blinking eyes, hoping that would help relieve his bad mood. "Actually, that was me. Sorry."

Clearly, I was no Bambi, because all my "joke" seemed to do was piss Harry off even more. He was scowling at me harder than he ever had before--long gone was the Harry from the other night at the club. In fact, it was as if that Harry had never existed, because ever since that night, it was as if we were back to square one. So much for us becoming friends. And now that I had dumped coffee on him? Well, let's just say my chances weren't looking any better.

I quickly gathered a wad of napkins and moved forward so that I could press them to his shirt, but before I could touch him, Harry took two steps back. I'm not kidding--he practically jumped away from me, like I was contagious or something. This guy was seriously not doing wonders for my ego, that was sure.

"I was just trying to help," I muttered, placing the napkins down in defeat. "I'm sorry for ruining your shirt."

"Jesus, Harry, give her a break," Niall called from the hallway, where he was putting on his tie and getting ready to leave for work. "She didn't spill coffee on you on purpose."

Harry's face twisted into a sour expression. "You never know."

I gaped at him. "You seriously think that I did that on purpose?"

His gaze dropped down sheepishly. "No."

I sighed and shoved the wad of napkins into his hand. "Here you go. Once again, I'm sorry that I accidentally spilled coffee on you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go, or I'm going to miss the bus."

Harry looked at me like he wanted to say something, but when a full minute had passed and he was still silent, I rolled my eyes and walked past him. Once I had said bye to Niall, I closed the door behind me, but it wasn't until I unlocked my phone and saw the time that I realized how late I was.

Fuck. I had missed the bus, which was my only way of getting to class, since I couldn't exactly afford a car. And I couldn't take an Uber, because....well, that was a story for another time.

Once again: Fuck.

"Niall!" I panted, once I had managed to make my way back to the apartment after running up the stairs. I really needed to work out more often. "Can you please take me to school? I know it's not on your way, but I promise I'll make it up to you."

A head peeked around the corner, but instead of Niall, it was Harry. He glanced at me for a second before turning back around and saying, "You just missed him. Niall already left."

"Damn it," I cursed. "How the hell am I going to get to school now?"

"What happened to the bus?"

"I missed it."

Once he had finished tying his tie, Harry asked me, "Why don't you just take an Uber?"

I blushed. "Um. I'd rather not take an Uber."

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Why not?"

"No reason."

I could see the corners of his lips curling up into a devious smirk. Once again, why did he only ever smile at me when he was making fun of me? "Come on, Alyson, now I have to know."