Harry: come to my car
I frowned and looked over my shoulder. He was sitting behind me just a moment ago, wasn’t he? But then again, he always left in the middle of lectures. He would only come to the parts that interested him—which I never understood. How does he know something interesting was about to be said if he wasn’t here? Maybe one of his friends told him. I didn’t get him. But it’s not like I want to nor do I want him to get me. We’re not like that.
I left anyway though. I hate school so skipping the last twenty minutes of a lecture on a Friday was nothing I ever cared about. There’s very little that I can say I care about in the first place. Maybe it’ll explain why I have one friend after seven months of going to this university. I didn’t even initiate the friendship—she’s my roommate.
As I walked out onto parking lot, packed with vacant cars, I saw Harry was parked in his usual spot in the way back under a tree. I have no idea how he got that spot every day, but I didn’t care enough to ask. He drove an old looking car. That annoyed me. He was one of those hipster guys that had vintage things, wore ripped, too tight, jeans and cut the sleeves of his shirts off to wear them as headbands—indie, I guess, is the word I’m looking for. He’s one of those.
And he sings, just to top it all off. He was just a huge stereotype, and though I barely knew anything about him, I’m sure I could figure it out. I mean, everyone loves Harry Styles. I’m pretty sure I’m the only person on this planet that doesn’t kiss his feet every time he walks by.
I walked up to his car; the window was down.
“Ahem,” I coughed, interrupting his texting. He regarded me like he always does, with that dumb crooked smile, before nodded towards the back seat.
“Get in.” I sighed, just out of habit when people tell me to do something, and got in the back. The car was started, taking us to some other secluded area off campus.
“So…how’d the rest of the lecture go?” I rolled my eyes. I hated when he tried to have a nonchalant conversation—small talk. He doesn’t talk to me when everyone’s around, and I like it that way. But I want it that way when we’re in private too. No talking. I’m not interested in talking with him.
“Fine.” I clipped.
“Hmm.” I didn’t respond. Ten minutes later we arrived at the parking lot of an abandoned grocery store that we came to last time. He turned the car off and got out. I slid to the other end of the back seat as she got in next to me, slamming the door closed behind him. There was a moment when we just stared at each other, letting the heat buildup.
He, as always, made the first move, smashing his lips to mine.
Before I knew it clothes were flying off.
I may not particularly like Harry…but he was good at this sort of thing. He was one of the best kissers I’d ever come in contact with. He knew how to use his hands, yet still allowed me to be in control sometimes. He was gentle despite how big and sometimes clumsy he was. It was kind of refreshing being with him so intimately. In a way, he made me feel on top of the world—important. Though I don’t care about many things, Harry helped me forget about the things I do care about. He gave me a release.
He didn’t know any of that and I’d never tell him. For him I was just the girl that he secretly fucks every once in a while. It was a secret on both our parts though. First off, I don’t need people thinking I like him, or that I’m even friends with him—because I’m not. Second, I knew that if we kept this a secret, no one would bother me. I’d continue to walk around the campus like a shadow, just the way I like it. If people knew about me and Harry, there would be none stop ‘whys’ and ‘hows’ that I didn’t want to answer. My isolation would be ruined if people knew.
