star-crossed

v. preparations pt. two

Henry ran the brush through his hair one last time and adjusted the collar of his button-down shirt. He unbuttoned the top, frowned at himself in the mirror, and rebuttoned it. "We all good, Nick?" he asked, gesturing at himself with a cocky grin. Nick sighed.

"For the twelfth time, you look fine. Remind me again why you're so concerned about this?" Nick asked.

"Because Miranda's going to be there, remember?" Henry rapped Nick on the top of his head. Nick scowled and fixed his hair, which had fallen a bit flat where Henry touched it.

"Why does it matter if she's going to be there or not?" We're going to the party to help you get over Miranda, remember?" He reciprocated the head-rapping. Henry's jaw dropped and he shoved Nick, who rolled his eyes and picked up his phone. "Anything from Angelo?" he asked. Henry checked his phone and shook his head, his warm brown curls flopping from side to side. "I swear, we're going to be late just because he can't decide which way to part his hair."

"He's probably just blowing us off. You know Olivia's going to be there, since she's Viola's sister, and he's been trying to dodge her for months." He grinned. "You know, I could always drive. Then we wouldn't be late."

Nick's eyes went side. "I wouldn't get in a car with you if you were the last person on earth with a license and my other option was a newborn baby. You're an even worse driver than Angelo."

Henry scoffed. "I haven't gotten any parking tickets yet!"

"You hit a stop sign. During your driver's test. With the proctor in the car."

"Okay, and? There have been no other incidents." He paused. "Other than the yield sign. And the tree." He bit his lip. "I'm beginning to see why my parents don't let me drive to school." Just then, his phone buzzed. Grateful for a distraction, Henry read the message, mouthing the words to himself. "It's Angelo."

"And?"

Henry squinted at the screen. "He's running behind. Won't be here for another fifteen minutes."

Nick huffed and sank into a beanbag. "Blowing us off. Like I told you, he's just scared to see Olivia since she's going to roast him and step on his heart all over again like she did when they broke up."

Henry flopped down next to him, limbs splayed everywhere as if he'd just fallen from a tenth-story window. "I think it'd do him some good for his ego to get stepped on. It's too big as is." His phone buzzed again, and his heart kicked at his ribcage as he took in the words. "C'mere, Miranda just posted something new."

"Do you have her post notifications on?" Nick asked, judgment seeping into his tone as he shot Henry a dangerous side-eye. "That's toeing the line between cute and creepy, and you're dangerously off-balance toward the creepy side." Still, he leaned a little closer. Henry did the same as he clicked on the notification, bringing him to her Instagram page (@mira.jo). He tapped on the newest picture.

For a second, the only two things in the world were Henry and that photo of Miranda. It was filtered black and white, and she was laying on a blanket in the grass, her hair shielding half of her face. Her deep brown eyes were focused on a book—Jane Austen's Emma, from the looks of it—and her face was the perfect image of peace. Though she was wearing the same paisley-printed dress and denim jacket from earlier that day, she looked like a whole new person. He let Nick into their little world with just a glance, noticing how he looked...frankly, unimpressed. "Isn't she gorgeous?" Henry asked, his voice sounding as if it came from a dream.