Harry Who?
Harry Needs Another Book
*This book is rubbish. Can I pop in for a different one?
Not 20 minutes after they’d left I received a text from what must have been Harry. I caught myself smiling and wondered if he really wanted another book or if he wanted to see me.
‘Why would he want to see me?’ I thought and shook my head, assuming I had imagined the chemistry between us. Perhaps working nights and not having enough human interaction was starting to get to my head, but I texted back.
*I just finished reopening the store….. Give me a minute to get it locked up again
*Thnx I’ll be right down
Ignoring the fluttering in my heart and convincing myself he really wanted a book, I set about locking the door and closing the curtains to keep the Directioners at bay. Just when I had started to convince myself this was a routine book sale with a regular customer, a knock on the door sent my heart aflutter again.
‘Damn, Ellie, get yourself together!’ I mentally scolded myself and walked to the back door. I opened it an inch to ensure it was in fact him, (and surprisingly just him, no security) before letting him into the shop.
“No security guard this time?” I was surprised he was allowed out on his own.
“You scared him off with your umbrella,” he teased with a cute smile, and that adorable dimple appeared on his cheek again. “No, actually he doesn’t know I left.”
So he snuck out just to get a book? Seems suspicious, but I tried to keep my head on straight. Perhaps it was because he was out on his own unprotected, or because he wasn’t with his friend, but he seemed a little less secure, less sure of himself. I shrugged it off and let him wander the shelves.
“Ellie,” he asked after finding his way to the register where I was sitting at the counter reading a book.
“Hmm?” I looked up from my book to see his soft greenish-gray eyes looking back at me.
“Can you help me find a book?” He asked.
I found my bookmark and set my book down to give him my full attention. “Sure. It’s not like it’s my job or anything.”
“That’s cheeky.” He smiled, and I felt myself losing my grip on my confidence. My attempt at humor was my only defense, and even that was failing. “What’re you reading?” He turned his head to try to read the title on the spine of my book.
“Nothing you’d be interested in,” blushing, I pulled the book off the counter.
“It’s not that 50 Shades book, is it?” He scrunched his nose in distaste. “Because if it is, you’d be right; that’s not my cup of tea.”
I laughed and put the book back on the counter. “It’s just a Nicholas Sparks novel, you know, the guy who wrote The Notebook.”
“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about; I love that movie!” He smiled, and pulled the book closer to look at the cover.
“So, if you didn’t like that last book you got, what exactly is your cup of tea?” I asked, using the phrase he’d used earlier because it made me feel smart.
“Someone recommended that book to me, but I’m not really in the mood for poetry.” He put my book down and glanced at the display of new books on the counter.
“Then what are you in the mood for?” I asked, and realized that could be taken out of context, and almost hoped he would take it out of context. Maybe that was what he actually wanted and the book was a ruse?
“I don’t know. I’m just….” he stared off at nothing for a moment. “I guess I’m lonely.”
‘Be professional, Ellie, do not offer to have sex with him!’ I mentally reminded myself and tried to come up with a witty comeback. “The self-help section is right over there; I’m sure we have a book on how to make friends.” I teased, which drew a small smile from him and he returned his gaze to me. “How are you lonely? Aren’t you surrounded by people all the time?”
He shook his head and looked down at his hands, and I noticed his nails were painted. I’m not sure why, but this endeared him to me; the way he ran his fingernail along the edge of the cracking nail polish on his thumb seemed like such a normal and relatable action, something I’d done hundreds of times when my nails were painted. “Yeah, but most of them are paid to be around us, not to be our friends,” he answered without looking up.
“What about the other guys in the band? There are, what, five of you? You must get along with one of them.”
“Actually, we’re just four now; Zayn’s gone solo.” A hint of a smile crept across his lips. “I don’t usually have to explain that; it’s kind of refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t know everything about us.”
“All I know about you guys I have learned from your fans who sit outside my store with their signs, and come in to use our bathroom.” I explained, and felt a little proud for not knowing a thing about One Direction or its members.
“Uh oh, I hope it’s all complimentary?” He smiled warily.
“Nothing serious, just everyone you’ve ever dated, all those times you got arrested, and I think there was mention of a girl you knocked up?” I teased and shook my head. “Just kidding, though there was a lot of talk about some guy named Larry?”
He rolled his eyes, but still smiled. “You remember the guy I was in here with before?”
“Louis? Yes, that was only like, 45 minutes ago. He bought a cute teddy bear for his girlfriend and paid way too much for it.”
He laughed. “Yeah, well, a number of our fans think he and I are, uh, in a relationship together.”
“Oh.” He’d stopped smiling, so I wasn’t sure how I should respond. Was he trying to come out to me?
Sensing my trepidation, he clarified: “We’re not, but we used to be close friends, and I guess that’s how it started.”
“So Larry is a combination of your names, that’s clever,” I pointed out, and thought ‘So this is why he’s lonely’. It got quiet for a moment. “Listen, about that book you wanted, I honestly have no suggestions, sorry.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I just wanted an excuse to come down here again and talk to you.”
“That’s very sweet of you.” I tried to play it cool, even though I was everything but cool. “It does get pretty lonely.”
“I’m guessing your usual clientele this time of night is not usually in the mood for conversation?”
“If I have any customers, they are often college students trying to finish up an assignment last minute, homeless people, angsty youths who don’t have anywhere better to be, and lately, a lot of your fans. They’re actually better than the usual crowd (since they usually pay for their merchandise), so, thank you, I guess?” I cocked my head, raised an eyebrow and laughed.
“Glad we could help.” He smiled and leaned on the counter, nervously playing with his nails again. “Maybe you’re just being polite to me because it’s your job and I’m a customer, but I really like talking to you. Would you, (after your shift is over of course) maybe want to come up to my room?” He bit his lip as he finished his question, as if to stop himself from saying any more.
I swallowed hard. This was it; he was finally coming clean with his intentions. Honestly, it had been awhile since I’d gotten laid and I would definitely have taken him up on his offer, but I didn’t want to seem like ‘that girl.’ “Harry, we just met, maybe we should-”
His bright eyes shot open and he interrupted me apologetically. “Sorry, not what I meant at all, that was really misleading. I meant we could get some food, breakfast or dinner, whatever you eat at this time of day?” This time he bit both of his lips, making his lips appear a thin line, to shut himself up.
“Right,” I laughed and felt my cheeks turn pink with embarrassment. “Of course. Normally I get breakfast with my roommate when I get home, before she goes to work.”
He smiled. “Breakfast it is, then. What time should I expect you? I’m just staying next door, we’re on the top floor.”
“Yeah, I know where you’re staying. That’s why they’re all outside waiting to see you,” I gestured toward the curtained windows, where hundreds of Directioners were camped out just outside. “But, I get off at 7, so I could be up there by 7:15?”
“7:00 AM? Blimey, I’ll try to be awake then, okay,” he nodded and checked the time. “That’s in like, three and a half hours. Who needs sleep anyway?” He joked.
“Do you normally stay up this late?” I asked. He didn’t seem tired at all, but I knew nothing about the lifestyle of the one of the world’s biggest pop stars.
He shrugged. “We’re working on a new album, so we’re up at odd hours.”
“As long as it’s not inconvenient, I’ll see you around 7:15.” I smiled, and he nodded as he ducked back out the door into the alley.
‘Damn. Three and a half hours’ I thought as I, once again, opened up the store again. ‘So he didn’t want a book after all….’
Not 20 minutes after they’d left I received a text from what must have been Harry. I caught myself smiling and wondered if he really wanted another book or if he wanted to see me.
‘Why would he want to see me?’ I thought and shook my head, assuming I had imagined the chemistry between us. Perhaps working nights and not having enough human interaction was starting to get to my head, but I texted back.
*I just finished reopening the store….. Give me a minute to get it locked up again
*Thnx I’ll be right down
Ignoring the fluttering in my heart and convincing myself he really wanted a book, I set about locking the door and closing the curtains to keep the Directioners at bay. Just when I had started to convince myself this was a routine book sale with a regular customer, a knock on the door sent my heart aflutter again.
‘Damn, Ellie, get yourself together!’ I mentally scolded myself and walked to the back door. I opened it an inch to ensure it was in fact him, (and surprisingly just him, no security) before letting him into the shop.
“No security guard this time?” I was surprised he was allowed out on his own.
“You scared him off with your umbrella,” he teased with a cute smile, and that adorable dimple appeared on his cheek again. “No, actually he doesn’t know I left.”
So he snuck out just to get a book? Seems suspicious, but I tried to keep my head on straight. Perhaps it was because he was out on his own unprotected, or because he wasn’t with his friend, but he seemed a little less secure, less sure of himself. I shrugged it off and let him wander the shelves.
“Ellie,” he asked after finding his way to the register where I was sitting at the counter reading a book.
“Hmm?” I looked up from my book to see his soft greenish-gray eyes looking back at me.
“Can you help me find a book?” He asked.
I found my bookmark and set my book down to give him my full attention. “Sure. It’s not like it’s my job or anything.”
“That’s cheeky.” He smiled, and I felt myself losing my grip on my confidence. My attempt at humor was my only defense, and even that was failing. “What’re you reading?” He turned his head to try to read the title on the spine of my book.
“Nothing you’d be interested in,” blushing, I pulled the book off the counter.
“It’s not that 50 Shades book, is it?” He scrunched his nose in distaste. “Because if it is, you’d be right; that’s not my cup of tea.”
I laughed and put the book back on the counter. “It’s just a Nicholas Sparks novel, you know, the guy who wrote The Notebook.”
“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about; I love that movie!” He smiled, and pulled the book closer to look at the cover.
“So, if you didn’t like that last book you got, what exactly is your cup of tea?” I asked, using the phrase he’d used earlier because it made me feel smart.
“Someone recommended that book to me, but I’m not really in the mood for poetry.” He put my book down and glanced at the display of new books on the counter.
“Then what are you in the mood for?” I asked, and realized that could be taken out of context, and almost hoped he would take it out of context. Maybe that was what he actually wanted and the book was a ruse?
“I don’t know. I’m just….” he stared off at nothing for a moment. “I guess I’m lonely.”
‘Be professional, Ellie, do not offer to have sex with him!’ I mentally reminded myself and tried to come up with a witty comeback. “The self-help section is right over there; I’m sure we have a book on how to make friends.” I teased, which drew a small smile from him and he returned his gaze to me. “How are you lonely? Aren’t you surrounded by people all the time?”
He shook his head and looked down at his hands, and I noticed his nails were painted. I’m not sure why, but this endeared him to me; the way he ran his fingernail along the edge of the cracking nail polish on his thumb seemed like such a normal and relatable action, something I’d done hundreds of times when my nails were painted. “Yeah, but most of them are paid to be around us, not to be our friends,” he answered without looking up.
“What about the other guys in the band? There are, what, five of you? You must get along with one of them.”
“Actually, we’re just four now; Zayn’s gone solo.” A hint of a smile crept across his lips. “I don’t usually have to explain that; it’s kind of refreshing to meet someone who doesn’t know everything about us.”
“All I know about you guys I have learned from your fans who sit outside my store with their signs, and come in to use our bathroom.” I explained, and felt a little proud for not knowing a thing about One Direction or its members.
“Uh oh, I hope it’s all complimentary?” He smiled warily.
“Nothing serious, just everyone you’ve ever dated, all those times you got arrested, and I think there was mention of a girl you knocked up?” I teased and shook my head. “Just kidding, though there was a lot of talk about some guy named Larry?”
He rolled his eyes, but still smiled. “You remember the guy I was in here with before?”
“Louis? Yes, that was only like, 45 minutes ago. He bought a cute teddy bear for his girlfriend and paid way too much for it.”
He laughed. “Yeah, well, a number of our fans think he and I are, uh, in a relationship together.”
“Oh.” He’d stopped smiling, so I wasn’t sure how I should respond. Was he trying to come out to me?
Sensing my trepidation, he clarified: “We’re not, but we used to be close friends, and I guess that’s how it started.”
“So Larry is a combination of your names, that’s clever,” I pointed out, and thought ‘So this is why he’s lonely’. It got quiet for a moment. “Listen, about that book you wanted, I honestly have no suggestions, sorry.”
He smiled and shook his head. “I just wanted an excuse to come down here again and talk to you.”
“That’s very sweet of you.” I tried to play it cool, even though I was everything but cool. “It does get pretty lonely.”
“I’m guessing your usual clientele this time of night is not usually in the mood for conversation?”
“If I have any customers, they are often college students trying to finish up an assignment last minute, homeless people, angsty youths who don’t have anywhere better to be, and lately, a lot of your fans. They’re actually better than the usual crowd (since they usually pay for their merchandise), so, thank you, I guess?” I cocked my head, raised an eyebrow and laughed.
“Glad we could help.” He smiled and leaned on the counter, nervously playing with his nails again. “Maybe you’re just being polite to me because it’s your job and I’m a customer, but I really like talking to you. Would you, (after your shift is over of course) maybe want to come up to my room?” He bit his lip as he finished his question, as if to stop himself from saying any more.
I swallowed hard. This was it; he was finally coming clean with his intentions. Honestly, it had been awhile since I’d gotten laid and I would definitely have taken him up on his offer, but I didn’t want to seem like ‘that girl.’ “Harry, we just met, maybe we should-”
His bright eyes shot open and he interrupted me apologetically. “Sorry, not what I meant at all, that was really misleading. I meant we could get some food, breakfast or dinner, whatever you eat at this time of day?” This time he bit both of his lips, making his lips appear a thin line, to shut himself up.
“Right,” I laughed and felt my cheeks turn pink with embarrassment. “Of course. Normally I get breakfast with my roommate when I get home, before she goes to work.”
He smiled. “Breakfast it is, then. What time should I expect you? I’m just staying next door, we’re on the top floor.”
“Yeah, I know where you’re staying. That’s why they’re all outside waiting to see you,” I gestured toward the curtained windows, where hundreds of Directioners were camped out just outside. “But, I get off at 7, so I could be up there by 7:15?”
“7:00 AM? Blimey, I’ll try to be awake then, okay,” he nodded and checked the time. “That’s in like, three and a half hours. Who needs sleep anyway?” He joked.
“Do you normally stay up this late?” I asked. He didn’t seem tired at all, but I knew nothing about the lifestyle of the one of the world’s biggest pop stars.
He shrugged. “We’re working on a new album, so we’re up at odd hours.”
“As long as it’s not inconvenient, I’ll see you around 7:15.” I smiled, and he nodded as he ducked back out the door into the alley.
‘Damn. Three and a half hours’ I thought as I, once again, opened up the store again. ‘So he didn’t want a book after all….’