Paper Airplane

22

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

                I wouldn’t call Charlotte a disaster if I had a broader vocabulary, but as it stands, my vocabulary isn’t and has never been the greatest.  Therefore, I cannot come up with any other term to describe her.  She was, unfortunately for me, a disaster.

                We’d decided to meet up a couple hours after Harry dropped me off at Brady’s condo, and we simply went out for coffee.  As we talked, I realized that there was no way in hell Harry would be able to stand more than ten minutes with her. 

                It wasn’t that she was mean or rude or snarky or even cocky.  She didn’t play dumb; she was actually really intelligent.  She wasn’t difficult to look at, wasn’t awkward, didn’t have an annoying laugh.  In fact, she was nearly flawless.  Nearly.  It took me quite a while, truthfully, to even distinguish a flaw, and for a while I thought our meeting was going well.  Too well, I should have realized.

                She was too nice.  That was the problem, and once I noticed it, it was all I noticed, all I could pay attention to, all I could focus on.  It had driven me so mad on the ride to Starbucks that by the time we got there, I deeply considered telling her I’d walk home just so that I would have to endure another five minute car ride with her. 

                It got to the point where I was even purposely dissing the most awful people I could think of: murderers, scandalous celebrities, womanizer old men, you name it.  I was bringing up the worst things about them, reminding her, insulting them.  It became a game to me.  And it was useless, because she still had nothing but kind words for them. 

                I just think she’s misunderstood, honestly.

                We don’t know the whole story though, you know?  Who knows why he did it.

                My patience had been tested today.  That was certain.  By the time I finally returned to my brother’s place, I felt exhausted.  Putting up with Charlotte had taken too much out of me, and I was so grateful I hadn’t told her why I’d wanted to meet up with her.  Harry Styles is very lucky I was choosing to make sure his possible girlfriend candidates are worthy of him, because this is going to take its toll on me no doubt.  Maybe I should tell Lucy my plan and she can take a few turns. 

                As I decided to call it an early night, sliding into bed free of makeup and loose, flimsy clothing, I received another text message from one of the girls I’d messaged earlier.  This will be the fourth one since Charlotte responded to me, but I was too tired to deal with them tonight.  I had a day off tomorrow – I’d sort things out then.

                I closed my eyes, ignoring the ache slowly forming at the back of my skull.  If I could sleep, I wouldn’t feel it, and maybe it’d be gone by morning.

                God, I can’t wait to sleep in.

                Bzzzz

                Bzzzz

                “Jesus Christ,” I breathed, wrenching my eyes open and snatching my phone off the nightstand beside my bed.

                It wasn’t from another girl.

                Sleep well. –Harry