Wrong Number [2018] Harry Styles

32. awkward [narrated]

On my way to Taco Bell, my favorite place in California for sure, I am enjoying the music that sounds through the car speakers, specifically Harry's playlist. In fact, I've been listening to it nonstop since he sent it to me four days ago.

I also stop at some little shops to look for a bracelet since Harry got me one for Thanksgiving, which made me genuinely happy.

I know damn well I shouldn't get too excited about him. At any moment he could stop texting me and I would lose another friend. To be honest, that will happen, sooner or later, but it will happen.

I'm afraid of Harry leaving me some day, especially because we haven't even met yet. But for now, I'm fine being his friend and talking almost everyday. I don't wanna think about the future now.

I park my mom's car in the parking lot and go inside Taco Bell. After ordering I wait in line, checking my phone, until my order is ready. I sit on the first spot I see and start eating while looking at my phone. I like to think I look less awkward if at least seems like I am doing something.

When I finish I throw everything to the bin and leave the tray on top. On my way to the door I look at my phone briefly, sort of shocked by a notification from my ex.

I might need to buy another hair dye because I'm about to have a mental breakdown, I say to myself, sighing.

Before I can keep walking, someone's arm hits my shoulder, making me move a couple of steps back and causing my phone to slip from my hand to the floor.

"Oh, shit," I mumble, squatting down to get my phone, but the man who hit me —because I was not paying attention— grabs it first.

I tuck some white hair strands behind my ears and stand on my feet, looking at him and his beautiful blueish green eyes. He has short curly hair and a little smile, but he also looks a bit confused.

I think I saw him somewhere, but I can't tell where.

"Thanks," I say taking my phone from his hand, "Oh, and I'm so sorry, I just got a text and got distracted, I really didn't see where I was going," I babble nervously. I stop myself and sigh with a tight smile, "Sorry. Just... thank you and sorry."

I smile at him again, but he doesn't reply, he just looks at me, so I take that as an invitation to leave.

You could have just said sorry. It's a simple word, five letters, not that difficult.

Before leaving the establishment I look over my shoulder and notice he's still looking at me. I get in the car with shaky hands due to the cold, thinking about where the hell I saw that face before.

But he was handsome. Damn, he was more than that. Something about him, his curly hair or his clear eyes made him more than an average looking man. No, he was not average at all. He was unique and beautiful.

But you just don't find men like that everyday. I'd probably never see him again, luckily, so I can't embarrass myself in front of someone so handsome.