One

Chapter 7

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Allie had already left for work by the time I arrived home. I roll my eyes as I push the doors to the kitchen open, dirty dishes scattered along the table top. Allie must have left them there after she finished her dinner. I shake my head, plucking the dirtied plates from the table's surface. She's such a slob at times, leaving clothes all over the house, tossing mail on the counter, and leaving dishes out for me to clean.

I make myself a sandwich, eating it as I climb the stairs to my room. Tugging my phone out of my tight pocket, I flip to my contacts, and search for Harry's name. My finger hovers over the call button, my mind playing tug of war with itself. I chicken out, moving to the left and typing a message. I shake my head at the sentence on my screen, erasing it and starting over. Again, I'm dissatisfied with my choice of words and I clear the screen of the wrong combination of letters. With a heavy sigh, I begin my final attempt.

I've made up my mind.

I hold my breath and hit send. Why was that so hard? It's only a text message. It's only Harry.

I fall back on my bed, my brain swarming with thoughts. It's only early afternoon, but my eyes begin to droop. I curl up into a ball on my mattress and pull the duvet around myself. The steady dripping of a leaky faucet lulling me to sleep.

My body jolts and my eyes snap open as a loud buzzing fills the room. Why do I have to be such a light sleeper? I rub my eyes and check the time. I was sleeping for ten minutes. Yawning, I fall back onto the bed, stretching my arms over my head. My phone buzzes again and I groan as I pick it up. Harry's name flashes across the screen and I swipe my finger across the glass, raising the phone to my ear and answering the call.

"Hey." His husky voice is muffled through my hair and I sweep it to the side. "I got your message." His voice holds an underlying tone of doubt.

"Oh." I look down at my lap, my fingers fiddling with the blanket covering my legs. I bite my lip, unsure of how to continue the conversation. "Harry, I-"

"It's okay, Rae." He interrupts me. "I understand."

I am beyond confused. "What?" I stand up and walk over to the window, moving the curtains apart one at a time.

"I get it. You don't want to see me again." He sighs, the sound of an engine humming to life in the background. "It's okay." There's no denying the slight edge in his voice, the sadness that is laced into his tone.

I laugh, shaking my head as I glance out the window at a small group of boys shooting a tattered basketball into a shredded hoop. "What are you talking about?"

"You said you've made up your mind." He explains, his tone unsure.

"I did make up my mind." The window's glass is cool as I press my forehead to it. "Harry, I want to see you again."

Silence is all I hear, not one word meeting my ears. I begin to panic, worried that he may ave decided that he doesn't want me after all.

"Tonight." He says as if I know what he's talking about.

My eyebrows crease together in confusion and I turn from my view of the neighborhood. "What about tonight?" I ask, sitting back down on my bed.

"I want to see you tonight." He says quickly, a car door slamming in the background.

My blankets are pushed to the end of the bed, making room for me to comfortably cross my legs. "Okay." I agree, trying to convince myself I'll be able to stay awake long enough to make it home. My eyes are half open as I lean back against the wall, my empty hand dragging a blanket across my lap.