the journal - h.s.

52

[amber's pov]

"Well what did you tell him then?" Marc asked eagerly, totally focused on me, and completely forgetting about the customers in the coffee shop - which he usually never did. Never.

"Well I... I just shook my head in disbelief and you know... I just watched him. I didn't really know what to say actually," I observed how the teaspoon in my hand slowly made the now cold coffee rotate around and around in the mug.

"Well what happened next then?" Marc asked with a crooked grin.

I kept watching how the light brown liquid made the perfect spiral in the middle of the mug, as the soft lounge music was playing from the speakers.

"Well he kissed me again. And then you know well we kind of lost track of time - so when he finally remembered he had to go to work, he was five minutes late already. He just grabbed the laptop and rushed out of there," I remembered how the flush had still been visible in his cheeks and how his hair was still messy after the short make out session in the kitchen. He had sent me a smirk and sighing heavily halfways out the door. "I wish I could stay," he had said not letting his eyes off me as I had tried fighting that pull towards him. I wanted so badly to keep him there with me. "Me too." And then he had disappeared - making me uncertain whether he had even been there afterall.

Aria had found me fast asleep and I had walked home half aware only - not really the perfect time to discuss her nephew.

"So ... so you found that journal. Harry's journal and he turned out to be Jenny's roommate and Aria's nephew? And he's in a band?" I nodded as Marc tried getting the pieces into place once and for all. My explanation had been a little messy - if not a lot.

"So over the weekend you met this guy for like the official second and third time? And you only found out yesterday he was Aria's nephew?" I nodded slowly, completely lost in memories of Harry's warm lips, as I didn't really see the image of the teaspoon in the coffee, which my eyes rested on.

"And you obviously is totally into him," I snapped out of my colorful imagination and focused on Marc who was smirking widely at me. I on the other hand flushed completely and tried occupying myself by throwing out the coffee in the sink, "yeah. Ehm. I guess.. I like him, yeah."

Totally perplexed I managed to somehow empty half the cup out over the desk instead.

Marc started laughing at my act, throwing me the yellow dishcloth, which of course I didn't managed to catch either and therefore had to kneel down and pick up - my cheeks now flaming red.

"It sounds all wrong when you just say it like that - you make it sound like I've been making out with a stranger in my boss' kitchen or something." I mumbled not able to keep the smile back, while wiping off the spilt coffee.

"Well you kind of did so," his tone was not judging just highly amused, which seemed a little off since Marc was usually the ideal of politeness.

I watched him with a sigh and a smile I couldn't possible fight against. So what if Harry was practically a stranger. He was my stranger now.

"I did didn't I?" The beam grew wider - but then again you was ought to be stupid and reckless occasionally right? And I didn't mind. This was Harry. Harry with dimples he always fought against. Harry with manners, who knew one was ought to hold the door open and lend you his shirt. Harry who had dropped out of Harvard. Harry who wrote songs. Harry who loved Daisy but was afraid to get the responsibility of looking after her. Harry who remembered every detail about you - yet was unable to notice when a group of teen girls was swooning over him. Harry who had no idea about his own importance and beautiful mind.

Luckily this dull confusing Monday went by easily. There were very few customers and I was left to my wild imagination and tangle of thoughts - not really present in reality. Only occasionally interrupted by Marc who needed some advice on girls.

It turned out that girl, who had given him her phone number at one of our shifts, had been well - someone he liked. A lot. And he had only stopped texting her when he asked me questions about either Harry or advice on what to write in the next text to her.

As there was merely half an hour left of my strange Monday shift - and I had spent the entire day speculating about when and how I was going to see Harry again - Marc spoke the words of my mind, "so you didn't get his phone number before he rushed off?"

I shook my head and my eyes flickered for a moment to Marc's phone - I had been trying to suppress the light jealousy all day. If only I could sent Harry text messages. What would he write? What would I write? I gulped trying to swallow the doubt growing in me - maybe he had done it on purpose? Rushed out off there without another word about meeting up again?

Had he even been real?

"What does he work with anyway? It's kinda late to go to work isn't it?" Marc continued catching onto my mood, which had been a rollercoaster all day. I went from recalling Harry's overwhelming scent and the fact his sweater was still laying home on my bed - till remembering how he had stormed out without ... well planning any meets or anything.

"I asked him what he worked with but he actually didn't respond," though that had been out of playfulness from his side right?

"Why wouldn't he respond to that?" Marc asked with a genuinely curious and puzzled tone, which made new thoughts roar in my mind. Why hadn't he? Harry had brushed it off so easily I had barely noticed it being strange - but he had actually managed to keep from answering a pretty simple question. Why?

I was probably just turning into one of those girls over analyzing every detail, but I still found it strange I actually didn't know where he had been so eager to rush off to. Once again I narrowed my eyes and tried to get rid of the knacking uncertainty. What was I going to do? Talk with Jenny - get his number through her? Or had he not wanted me to get it at all?

Urgh. I was pretty sure he had felt the same way as me - but I had been fooled before. Had been too blind to see the truth. I gulped again looking around the basically empty café nervously. But he wouldn't do that. Of course he wouldn't. It was Harry.

As we slowly started cleaning up the place for the next to take over, I wondered if it hadn't been the other way around. If Harry had any idea what he had done to me. I couldn't figure out whether or not I wanted him to know - on one hand I wanted him to understand how much I had grown to care for him in such a short matter of time. But on the other I feared it might scare him off or ... make it easy for him to fool me too.

Crap why was this so difficult. Why didn't I know what he was thinking? Could I really trust him? I had done headlessly before with someone else - but that had been the most horrible mistake of my life. Was I making the same mistake again? Or was I just fooling myself?

I imagined Harry's jade green eyes watching me, while trying to make out what secrets they were hiding.

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a/n:

okaay i do realize this may not be the most interesting chaaapterrr but yeah like - it's all meant for a reason!! ^^ xx