Torn (One Direction Fanfic)

Chapter 22

     I quickly unlocked my phone, expecting an explanation in text form for Harry's weird behavior. But the text I read kinda let me down. "Hope I can see you later love.. xx" I suddenly heard my name called out, and the dumbfounded cashier was holding my coffees over the counter toward me. "Thanks," I mumbled, grabbing the drinks and heading over to where Shannon was sitting at a table. "Was that weird, or what?" I asked, setting her cappucino down in front of her. She looked confused. "What? What did I miss? I've been in the bathroom," she said. Of course. The girl had the bladder of a small puppy. "Jesus, Shannon. The boys were all just in here," I told her. Her face dropped. "Damnit, you're kidding me," she muttered. "No, and Harry pretended like he didn't even know me," I said. "Really?" she asked, furrowing her brows. "Really. And what's even weirder is the text he just sent me," I said, flashing her my phone screen. She shook her head, taking a sip of her coffee. I began typing my response to Harry. "So we don't know eachother when we're in public, love?" Send. "Probs just a publicity thing," Shannon said. I shrugged in agreement. Still, the fact that he didn't acknowledge me kinda hurt. Until I recieved an explanation, I was pissed. 

     We finished our coffees and headed on toward the city. I kept checking my phone for a response. It had been thirty minutes, and Harry still hadn't texted me back. "Chill," Shannon said, yanking my phone out of my hand and shoving it back down in my purse. She was right though, I didn't want to seem like a clingy bitch. Maybe he was testing me. Or maybe he was actually just busy. Who knew? Halfway through the day we arrived at the London Eye, which was definitely one of the things I was most excited for. While waiting in line, I had my elbows propped up against the railing, in my own little world. "I hate when you're like this," Shannon muttered. "What?" I questioned. "All distracted and shit. I feel like I'm talking to a wall. Harry definitely likes you, so stop worrying," she said. I wished I could be as positive as her, but I always seemed to doubt myself. Just then, I heard someone calling out my name. I turned to see a hooded figure in sunglasses pushing his way through the line toward me. While most peope couldn't recognize him, I knew who it was. Harry.

     I began working my way through the line toward him, making sure the tour guide wasn't looking. We finally reached one another, breathless. "Lex," he greeted me. "Harry, how did you know where I was?" I asked. He grinned, whipping a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "You left this at the house," he said. I took it from him and unfolded it. It was my itenerary. "But, why did you--" "I felt bad about earlier. I'm not allowed to socialize in situations like that, we were in a rush and I was told not to draw unnecesarry attention," he cut me off, rambling on and on. I shrugged my shoulders, not saying a word. "I feel bad," he said, leaning up against the railing. "If I could do it differently, I would. I shouldn't have ignored you. You don't deserve that." He genuinely felt bad. I was  a little pissed I admit, but he didn't have to go to the trouble to hunt me down. A simple text apology would've been fine. "It's okay, I understand. It comes with the territory, I guess," I said, forcing a smile. "I'll make it up to you," he said with a cheeky grin. "If you say so.. aren't you busy? Shouldn't you be getting back to.. whatever it is you should be doing beside stalking me?" I asked sarcastically. "I actually have some free time, believe it or not, and I'd love to spend it stalking you," he laughed. I couldn't help but smile. Harry nudged back into the queu for the Eye, and we waited together toward the back of my tour group. I stood on my tip toes to see Shannon, who shot me an evil glare. I sent her a text saying he came to apologize and wanted to see me, and she responded with one that read 'Fine. I'm starting to not like this kid.. ;)" I giggled and crammed my phone down into my purse. Just as I was about to shove my free hand into my pocket, Harry reached for it, inerlacing our fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. "Is this weird?" he asked cheekily. "It feels nice," I replied. No boy had ever held my hand in public before. I felt.. special. I was surprised no one had recognized him yet. Well, surprised and relieved.