CHAPTER NINETEEN
"Oh." I say while Harry just grins like he's won the lottery, but his face falls when he hears my response.
"Do you not want her to come over?" He asks, a little sad and I try to shake away my negative thoughts, but the only thing I can think is: No, not really. But of course I can't say that because Harry obviously likes her and the fact that I don't really want him to be all infatuated with her is kind of irrelevant at the moment. So instead I just say:
"It's fine." I try to smile best I can, and Harry looks pleased with my answer since he grins right back and hops up to grab his phone.
"I'll call her right now." He beams, picking up his phone from his dresser and putting it up to his ear.
"Yay." I mumble, quietly enough so that Harry can't hear. He talks to Elizabeth happily on his bed and I just lay back, partially watching the football game and partially listening to Harry's conversation.
"Would you like me to text you my address or do you want to write it down?" Damn it, she's coming, "Alright, I'll text you, then." Why is he smiling so much? All he's going to do is text her, "Alright, see ya' in a bit, babe." Ok, since when did they get on pet name calling ground?
And-wow, I'm making a huge deal out of this when really, it's just some girl Harry met that probably means nothing. She can't be that great, I mean, she's a secretary. She can't be crazy amazing.
Harry comes back to the couch and sits by my feet, smiling down at me. "Well, she's coming over." He says, obviously trying to hold in his excitement, "What do you think we should do?"
Have a normal movie night without Elizabeth and make crappy healthy food.
"You should do the things I told you about," He nods, and I watch the game a little longer before I add, "And, have fun, I guess."
So, Harry puts on nicer clothes. (Just a pair of skinny jeans instead of baggy sweatpants.) He also cleans up a bit, but I don't care at all since I know I'm going to raise all kinds of Hell when she comes anyway.
+
Turns out Elizabeth is all that. I'm pretty much a two standing next to her because she is well over a ten. She's blonde and skinny, yet curvy and pretty much perfect, when all I have is the power to walk through things and my music taste.
And her clothes are awesome because she's so hippie-cool and vintage and the only thing vintage about me is me. Her legs are long while my back is long and she's got perfect boobs and mine make me look like I'm still a teenager.
So, yeah, I'm a two and she's a twenty-two.
When she walks in, Harry asks her if she wants something to drink and she says no, and then follows Harry to sit onto the couch, right where I am lying.
Harry subtly moves his head, signaling me to move, but I act like I don't see and continue to watch the game that's on.
Elizabeth looks at Harry oddly, obviously wondering why he's just standing in front of the couch and looking like he's going to hurt it. Then, she decides that she isn't going to wait for Harry and moves to sit on me.
Before she does, though, Harry yells, "No, no, stop!" And pulls her up as I rush to tuck my feet in and sit up on the couch, happy that Harry stopped her.
Elizabeth eyes him quizzically and asks, "What's wrong?" very slowly and while I should be worried about making Harry look like a complete mental person, the only thing I can think about is that her voice is perfect, too.
