City Gurl

Chapter Seven

I follow Harry Something to his car. It is one of those pickup truck thingies. It's red. I like it!

"Nice car," I mumble really quiet. I'm surprised he even heard me.

"Thanks," he mumbles back.

I stand there, not knowing what to do. He's a stranger. A British stranger. But Bernie's not, so I can trust him to get into his grandson's car. Right?

"Yeah, I'm sorry about my grandfather. He's old and, well, doesn't know much." Harry blurts out.

I look around and pretend not to hear him. I see out of the corner of my eye he is fumbling with the keys.

"Look, it's ok if you don't want to talk to me because I'm poor and 'uncool.'" Harry snaps, putting "uncool" in air quotes.

I am shocked a little, and say, "No, don't take it THAT way, umm, I'm just a little, ya know, weirded out by this...thingie majigi. British dudes grandfathers don't usually ask me to ride to breakfast with their grandsons,"

"I know what you mean," Harry says. "Every time he meets a girl, he wants me to date her. It's really annoying."

I gulp and step into his car and gingerly sit down in the seat. So does Harry. I stare at his hottie features and his very kissable lips. Oh my God, was I crushing? I didn't even know him!

Harry puts the car into drive and says, "Um, where do you want to go?" He turns a little red. "You know, I usually go to Dunkin Donuts or something, but uh, today I guess we can go where you want to."

"Oh, Dunkin Donuts is fine with me," I say quickly, and think about how I liked Dunkin Donuts as well. Sigh!

He shrugs and starts driving. We sit in silence for a bit until he says, "Soo, you moving into the apartment?"

"Well, yeah, I guess," I mumble. "The room is nice and stuff."

Harry smiles. "That's good."

"Why is your grandpa not British and you are?'' I blurt rudely. I blush profusely. "No, that wash rude of me. Sorry!"

"No, it's cool," Harry says. "Lots of people ask me that. Well, he is British, but he grew up in America. I came here when I was, like, five, but the accent just stuck, I suppose."

"Why'd you come to America? It's probably much nicer in England."

"My parents died in a plane crash," Harry clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel hard.

"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry! You must be so sad." I gasp, and imagine slapping the shit out of myself. What was my problem?????

"Nah, I'm over it. But it does bother me sometimes," Harry shrugs.

I secretly wonder how old he is. I try to think of a question that wouldn't be so obvious.

"Um, I suppose you go to high school?" I ask.

"Yup, going into twelfth in two days. You?" He answers.

My stomach gets all tingly. "Tenth," I say giddily.

"Oh! So, what school are you going to?"

"Um, Centralfare High," I answer awkwardly. I don't really know my new school yet, and I don't want to. Except if Harry is going too.

"I don't think I'm going to that school," Harry sighs. "Too bad, I don't really know anybody."

"Wait, I thought that you came here when you were five!" I exclaim.

"Well, to be honest, nobody really talks to me," Harry says, obviously sorry for himself.

"Why? You seem like a nice person.''

Harry smiles a cute smile and says, ''Thanks, but I keep changing schools, so I don't really get to know anyone that well. I don't usually go out of the apartment that much. And personally, I don't really like New Yorkers, no offense."

"Hey, I'm with ya on that one! I'm North Carolinian! New Yorkers are loud and stuff!" I agree.

Harry laughs. "That's right!"

"Oh, we're here!" He says, peeking out of the window.

I feel disappointed. I'm really starting to like New York City.

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Ya like it? I needed to finish since I haven't updated in a long time. Oh well. I prob won't update this weekend because I'm going to penslyvainia. Yay!!! :-)! Well VOTE AND COMMENT!!!!!!!