precipitous. || h.s.

twelfth

Do you ever just get so hung up in your thoughts? You could be anywhere, at any moment in time, staring off at absolutely nothing, just thinking. It's like you're finding the meaning and organizing every one of them, for hours on end you just stare at what seems like completely nothing.

Then you realize you're actually staring at a person, or you're staring anything the least bit embarrassing to look at, but usually a person.

Which brings me to where I'm sat at the moment, two minutes left until class ends. Today I am going on a date with the boy whom I've been staring at for what seems like hours, yet it's probably only been thirty seconds.
His jaw was tense as he gripped the pen in his hand, finishing the class assignment I had finished moments ago. Hicks had assigned us a small passage to make annotations of and return to him at the ends of class. They had always been easy for me, so I didn't sweat it and finished quick. Harry on the other hand was the complete opposite.

Straight ahead, I noticed a circular object, figuring it was a clock after I read the numbers.

3:59 PM

In a matter of seconds, Harry's pen fell from his hand, his palm smacking the ballpoint to the desk as he released a sigh.

"Well, I've just finished complete rubbish." His brown curls nearly bounced as his head turned to me.

"What about you?" Upon Harry's question, the bell had rung, signaling class was over. Today was Tuesday, meaning I only had to attend two afternoon classes. I already handled English just before Journalism, so after this I would probably just go home to get ready for our date.

"Easy." I spoke softly, my mind in confusion as to what Harry's plan was. He never exactly mentioned a time we would go, or if we were going to get dinner afterwards. I still had no clue what to wear.

After picking up my stuff, I followed him down the stairs, both of us dropping our annotated papers off before we left through the double wooden doors.

I held my English Literature book in my hands, my head dipped low as I walked beside Harry down the path. Blonde hair caught my vision, the strands falling naturally over my face as I watched the unbloomed flowers to the right of me.

"You don't need anything right?" Harry spoke up, turning to me. "I thought we could just go from here." His eyebrows were drawn in thought, I only saw one side of his face due to the side look he had given me.

"I um," As I thought about it, the more I decided against telling him I didn't think I looked decent for a theater. Because really, we're just seeing a film and getting some dinner afterwards.

"Yeah, I'm fine, sounds good."

"Cool, I parked over here." Harry's hand unexpectedly landed on the small of my back, I almost jumped, yet I gave him a small smile and followed him to his black Range Rover.

I hope I don't embarrass myself.

My palm was sweaty, I wanted to just wipe my hands against the fabric of my jeans so bad, but I couldn't. Sure some scenes were intense, a nail biter at that, but that wasn't the reason to my sweaty hand.

The film has been over for thirty seconds now, the credits rolling on by. Harry's hand had gripped mine as soon as the main character's mum died ten minutes ago. Wails and whined were heard in the theater, and I was about to reach for more popcorn, scoffing at everyone's uncontrolled emotions, but I suppose I had been sitting next to another holder over the case. His hand reached for mine, I looked up and only found Harry still looking straight ahead at the screen, his eyes a brighter shade than usual.