𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋! | harry styles

𝐈𝐈𝐈

Did you make it home okay?
This is Harry, by the way.

Waking up to his text takes the sting out of my nine o'clock alarm and sends a giddy buzz through my system. Checking up on my safety-so deliciously old-school.

It kind of killed Harry last night when I told him I'd be taking the bus home after my shift, but what was he going to do, stick around till 2 a.m.? I can't help but smile, remembering the reluctant look on his face when he left just before midnight.

Best not keep the man in limbo.

Yes thx. All is well.

I save his number to my contacts. First name: Harry. Last name: O'School. Two seconds later, a smile emoji pops up on my phone, and I know it matches my own expression. I set my phone down on the kitchen counter in case Harry texts again while my coffee brews.

My accounting textbook mocks me from the coffee table. I can barely lift the damn thing, let alone absorb its contents. Cost Accounting is kicking my ass. How did I get two weeks behind already? It's only October first.

I push away the voices in my head that threaten to bring me down: Should've stayed in school the first time and graduated like your brothers. You're not smart enough. You still have seventy-four credits to go. Stick with bartending-your tits'll make you more than droning away at some accounting firm.

Coffee.
Crack open the book.
Push through it...

My phone buzzes again. How is it possible only ten minutes have passed?

What are you doing later? I get off at 11. I'll get you off by 11:30. ;)

Good ol' James McBooty Call. Guy's not half bad in the sack, and the flesh-on-flesh is nice once in a while. Then again, Roger Rabbit satisfies every time, and I don't have to kick his pale ass out of my bed afterwards.

My new job makes for an easy excuse: Sorry - working.

Next time :)

Knowing James, he's already moved on to the next girl on his list. In a way, it's comforting to know what to expect from him-nothing. Back to the grind.

Fixed costs, variable costs, mixed costs...
"He's been looking for you..."

Contribution margin ratio...
"You don't know what you're missing..."

Break-even point...
"Maybe I should just keep you guessing..."

Dammit, Harry is distracting! The attraction is undeniable, but so is the age difference. Sugar daddy. The stereotype doesn't flatter either of us.

"Yuck. Okay, back to the books!"

Compute the marginal cost of 2,000 widgets...

* * *

My unplanned nap is interrupted by the blare of my phone.

I peel my cheek off the page that put me to sleep. Hopefully, some accounting concepts seeped in by osmosis while I was sleeping.

"Hold on!" I yell at my phone while I stretch for it. Harry O'School calling... "Shit!"

My heart is pounding into my ears. I bolt upright on the couch and clear my throat before attempting to answer. "Hello?"

"Hi, Sophie. I hope I'm not disturbing you." If I close my eyes, I can see him as plain as day.

"Oh... no, I was just studying."

"Oh yeah? What are you studying?"

"Cost accounting. Joy of joys."

He chuckles into the phone. I can practically feel his breath on my ear. "You don't sound like a fan."