How Did This Happen?

Another Surprise

All I could think about through jouranlism was Harry.  
   
    His green eyes.  His smile.  His adorable curls.  His everything.  

    It was one thing to see him on TV, but a whole different experience to see him in person.  And I didn't just SEE him.  I talked to him.  I flirted with him.  I drank coffee with him.  I gave him my phone number...Oh my god.  What if he calls me?  Or texts me?  

    When I finally got to my apartment, I fell back on my bed, phone on my chest.  It buzzed and a moment of excitement went through me as I checked the number.

    My heart sank when I saw the contact.  

    Jake.

    I put my phone down, my mind numb.  I couldn't do this.  My head swam as I remembered what had happened on Sunday night.  The memories were cloudy, considering I had done a couple shots to dull my feelings before he came over.  I hadn't been drunk, I was just more confident than my normal self.  

    My phone buzzed again, I flipped it over.  It was Jake again.

    I had refused to let myself cry over him on Sunday, I didn't let myself cry this morning.  All the tears I had been holding back came in a flood.  A sob hitched in my throat.  I didn't care.  I let it all out.  Once I had calmed myslef down enough to pick up my phone, I checked my messages.

    Jake:  Laura, can we talk?  Please.  I don't want it to be like this.  I want you back.
    Jake:  I miss you.  I love you so much.  It can't end like this.

    More tears came as my phone buzzed once more.

    Jake:  Do you think we can meet later?  At Mocha?

    I bit my lip and replied: No.

    His response was almost immediate.  

    Jake:  Please!  Laura, I love you.  I've loved you since we first started dating two years ago.

    My heart ached.  I felt like it was being punched over and over again.  Me and Jake had been dating since our junior year.  As much as I hate to admit it, I loved him too. I still do.

    My phone buzzed again, how many times was Jake going to text me?!

    To my surprise, it wasn't Jake.  It was a number I didn't recognize.

   It said:  Did you get anything on my sweatshirt yet?

   I laughed, catching myself off gaurd. Harry.  Harry was texting me.  

  I had taken the sweatshirt off when I got home, and it was now laying on my desk, stainless.

   I replied:  Nope...well, not yet anyway. I haven't had dinner yet, so there's always a possibility it could happen then.  

   He texted back:  No dinner??  Well that has to change.  What's your address?