Good Intentions| Editing

Sixteen

-edited- 

"Favorite book?" Harry asks me.

"Uhh, I'd have to say Flowers in the Attic."

"Okayy," he says taking a sip of grape juice and clearly not recognizing the title. "Mine is Alice in Wonderland. I like fantasies. Favorite movie?"

"The Blind Side."

After meeting up with Quinten, we headed back to my place and opened a bottle of grape juice to sober up. The Pirates of the Caribbean soundtrack was softly playing in the background, and we were playing a game of Twenty Questions.

"Americans and these sappy movies. Jeez. The Notebook, The Blind Side. What's next?" He says rolling his eyes.

I playfully hit his shoulder. "Whatever."

"Um, Favorite color?"

"Grey."

He gives me a strange look.

"You like what you like. I like what I like."

Harry now moves on the couch and rests his legs on my lap. His hair was disheveled and his grey sweater looked warm. This was the first time I've seen him appear calm.

"Okay, okay, little miss. Favorite subject?"

"Math."

His eyebrows raise. "Why didn't you go into it?"

"I love math. The order and the letters and calculations. But my high school teacher always said you can't go into this field with a calculator- for some things. And I couldn't do it. So I chose the next best thing. Books."

He looks at me with sad eyes. "Was your first choice books?" I ask.

"Yup. They offer me an out on the world. They're a way to get out of life."

I don't respond to his statement. I felt the same way. Whenever something was wrong, I'd pull out a book and get away from my life. They were my escape too.

Harry looks at me. I feel him analyzing my actions. To stop him I say, " I think you have like fifteen questions left."

"Favorite musician?" He says.

"Frank Sinatra. I love the oldies music. It takes me back in time. Yours?"

"Fleetwood Mac. I also enjoy the oldies. Favorite sport?"

I think in this for a while. Harry stares at me expectedly the whole time. "Wrestling." I finally answer.

Harry's eyes bulge out his sockets so much they are about to fall out.

"I was cheerleader for wrestling in high school. I loved making pins and doing the cheers even though I'd get blisters on my hands."

"You were just in it to see the guys in their singlets." Harry gives me a side eye.

"Well that was a plus. I can't imagine you in one with all your tattoos."

"You mean you can't imagine my big dick in one. It's just to big for your imagination."

My eyes widen and I feel the heat rise to my face. Harry bursts out laughing. His face turns red and his hair falls into his eyes. He's struggling to catch his breath.

Suddenly a picture of Harry in a wrestling uniform comes to mind. His tattoo covered body and yes his dick would certainly be a sight to see. I can't erase the image from my mind. He could take down anybody just by his looks. I'd want to cheer for him.