Speak |h.s. a.u.|

Chapter Twenty

                 When Annabelle woke up, she realised that today made exactly a month and a half since she had met Harry. She might have marked it on her calendar on my phone. She thought, maybe, she'd need that information for later. Like, maybe a year from now they would be dating and she could be like, "Oh, Harry look, today makes one year since we met." Then she realized that was one of the dumbest fantasies she's ever had.

During lunch, Annabelle wore a hairband around her right wrist. Whenever she would think of Harry, she'd snap the hairband. It didn't hurt, but it stung just enough to make her reprogram her train of thought. She had to keep the hairband on all day. Especially when her mother told her that they would be going to Harry's house for dinner.

So here she is, sitting in the Styles' living room, waiting for the adults to finish dinner. She sat in a recliner, while Harry and Gemma sat together on a couch. They were watching television, but she was playing MarioKart on her D.S. What a child.

"Go talk to her." Gemma whispered.

Flick.

"No, I think she's angry at me." Harry whispered back.

Flick, flick, flick.

"Why? She has no reason to be angry."

Flick.

"I don't know. Maybe she knows about something she shouldn't." Harry said. Annabelle watched them out of the corner of her eye. Harry's face held something that looked like guilt, but it was probably just like, gas or something.

FLICK.

Annabelle sighed, now trying not to wonder about what she shouldn't know about. It's probably just a lie about a girlfriend or something, who knows?

Flick, flick.

She slightly shook her head, refocusing on her game. If she doesn't win at least third place in this race, she is done for.

"Harry, get your saggy ass up and speak to her before I do it for you." Gemma practically whispered with a megaphone, which made Annabelle want to laugh, but she didn't. They actually thought she couldn't hear them?

"Fine. Asswipe." Harry muttered.

"Hey, that's my nickname for you. No stealing it." Gemma laughed, and Annabelle grinned.

Harry scooted over to the opposite side of the couch, right beside her chair.

Come on, Yoshi don't fail me now. GO GO GO GO. Stupid turtleshell. GO, YOSHI, GO.

"Hey."

GO FASTER PLEASE. YOSHI I CAN'T LOSE. YOSHI. YOSHI. NO. No. NO!

Annabelle frowned, a small grunt coming out of her throat as she threw her head back, slamming her DS shut.

"Woah, didn't mean to interrupt you." Harry said, a hint of a frown on his lips as well.

What? Oh, no you didn't. Ha, just playing a game...

"Um, how are you?"

Flick.

She smiled lightly while flicking herself with the hairband. Why is he so pretty?

Flick, flick, flick, flick.

"You seemed to be really into that game. What was it?" She held out her D.S. He opened it, seeing a crying Yoshi, driving his cart around, with a huge "6TH" on the screen. Harry smiled.

FLICK, FLICK.

"Awesome," he handed it back, and she turned it off.

"Dinner's ready!" Julie shouted.