Little Things

A few days later, Bonnie sat in her room. She still hadn't called Harry. She didn't know what she would say. Bonnie was never good with words, especially in times like this.

Alice continued pestering her every day, but Bonnie wouldn't budge. She decided to steer clear of Alice for a little, until she cooled down.

Bonnie's room was simple and old fashioned looking: painted white wooden floors, a bed with light blue paint that she had done all sorts of things to in order for it to look chipped and rusty, and a book shelf stocked with all of her favorites: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, The Hunger Games series, all of the Harry Potter books, and collections of Edgar Allan Poe, to name a few.

Bonnie grabbed her phone and pulled the folded paper off of her bedside table.

She pondered for quite a while on whether or not to call Harry.

Yes, he was cute, and British, and charming, and British. But Bonnie couldn't help feeling that this was all a prank. Why would a heart throb such as Harry Styles be interested in her? He would probably be leaving St. Louis soon anyway, never to see her again.

Yet again, something in her mind told Bonnie that this was real; that it would amount to something--something big.

Her fingers shook as she began to dial the number. When she pressed the call button, her stomach gave a jolt. She almost hung up as it rang, but right when she was about to, a voice came on the line.

"Is it you, Bonnie?" The voice asked. Bonnie's insides squirmed. How did he know?

"Ye-yeah, Harry. How'd you know?" she couldn't stop shaking.

Harry let out a sigh. "I just knew," he said sweetly.

"Wow, really?" Bonnie was so surprised.

Harry chucked, "Nah," he said, "I've been answering the phone like that for ages. Well, since I met you anyway. I've grown quite weary of everyone denying it. I thought you'd never call."

"Oh," Bonnie said. "I had to think for a while, I mean we don't really know each other."

She heard Harry snort, "How about breakfast tomorrow morning, yeah?"