How Did This Happen?

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After I gave Harry my address, I ran around my apartment like psychopath.  I probably looked insane, throwing clothes and books into my closet, stuffing makeup and jewelry into drawers, flinging clean plates into cabinets, fixing my bed, and finally darting into the bathroom.

    I almost screamed at the sight of myself in the mirror.  My eyes were red, so were my cheeks.  I could see the path my tears took down my face.  I washed my face off with cool water and wished I had enough time to take a shower.  Quickly, I dried my face off and put some concealer on, trying to cover my red cheeks and dark marks under my eyes.  I brushed my hair out, thankful it had stayed mostly straight though the day.  

    I ran back into my bedroom, trying to find a clean shirt.  I found my black, silky, tank top with silver sequins along the collar that would match my white shorts well.   I had my shirt half way over my head when I heard a knock at the door.  My heart skipped a couple beats.  
    “Just a minute,” I called, pulling the tank top on.  I ran my fingers through my hair, untangling some knots.  

    I opened up the door to reveal the perfection that is Harry Styles.  He looked great as usual; he had taken his beanie off since our meeting at the coffee shop.  He had changed his shirt, and was now wearing a plain gray one.

    “I thought you were going to keep me waiting all day,” he smiled, almost knocking off my feet.

    “Wouldn’t even think about it,” I gestured for him to come in.

    He sat a bag of food on the counter, pulling out boxes.

    It amazed me at how comfortable he looked in my apartment.

    “I hope you like Chinese,” he said.  “I wasn’t exactly sure what you wanted so I bought a little bit of everything,” he gave me another smile.  “You look great.”

    I shut the door and stood beside him.  I was still in shock of seeing him in my apartment.  I heard my phone buzz in my bedroom.  

    “Hold on a minute,” I said, rushing to my bedroom.  

    Thankfully, the text was from Emily.

    She said:  Wanna grab some food?

    I texted back: I already have plans, sorry.

    I stuck the phone in my pocket.  When I came back in Harry was sitting on the couch slurping some noodles.  I took my seat in the chair beside the couch.

   “Thanks for picking up this food,” I told him, taking a bite of sweet and sour chicken.
   
    He shrugged, “Please, I was starving as well,” he licked his lips.  “So how was your class you had to rush off to?”

    I rolled my eyes.  “Boring, I should’ve stayed at Mocha.”  I almost added ‘with you.’

    He chuckled.  
   
    “So, how was your day?”  I asked.

    “Same as yours, boring.  I slept most of the day,” he took another bite of noodles.

    My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it.  We ate in comfortable silence for a while, until my phone buzzed again.  And again.  And again.  And again.

    Harry gave me a look.  “You must be very popular,” he smiled.

    I rolled my eyes.  “Yeah, right.  It’s just my friend.”  At least I hope it’s my friend and not Jake.

    “Do you need to answer?”

    I debated for a moment.  “If it happens again.”

    Just then, my phone launched into my ringtone which was ‘What Makes You Beautiful.’  I blushed furiously.

    Harry smiled, “You really are a fan.”

    I sat my food down and went into my bedroom.  I looked at the caller ID.  It was Emily.

    “What?”  I asked.

    “Nice to talk to you too,” she answered.

    “I’m kind of busy right now,” I told her.

    “Excuse me for wanting to talk to my best friend who just broke up with her boyfriend and won’t tell me why.”

    “I’ll explain soon, I promise.”

    “You better.  So why can’t you come out to dinner?  Oh God, you’re not holed up in your room watching the Notebook eating chocolate and ice cream, are you?”  

    “Far from it.”
  
    “Then what are you doing?”

    “I have company.”

    She took a long pause.  “More important than your bestfriend?”

    “I think you would be okay with this.  I really have to go now,” I said.

    “Who is-”

    I hung up.
    
    “Sorry about that,” I said sitting back down.

    “Don’t worry about it,” he sat down his empty container.  “Want to play the question game?”

    “You start.”

    He rubbed his hands together.  “Favorite band?”

    “Is this a trick question?”  I asked.

    “No,” he bit his lip.

    “Um, well besides One Direction, I like Maroon 5, The Fray, Coldplay…”

    “I love Coldplay!”  Harry exclaimed.

    I smiled.  “I love ‘The Scientist’ and ‘Yellow.’”

    “Beautiful songs.  Chris Martin has an amazing  voice, I’m jealous,” he shook his head.  

    I was about to tell him what an amazing voice he had until a knock sounded on my door.  I pursed my lips.

    “I wonder,” I got up from the couch and opened the door.

    Standing there was Jake.