Still The One

Nine

An average of seventy-four species become extinct every day, which was one good reason but not the only one to hold someone’s hand. – Nicole Krauss, The History Of Love

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Nine
Five years ago – February 14, 2013

My hand was producing a mild cramp from pressing the Next button on the remote control so many times. There was a romantic comedy on, but watching that would only worsen things. And switching from channel to channel was giving me a sweltering headache, but I had no choice. I hadn’t made any plans for the evening and I was downright miserable.

Today of all days was infinitely perfect for being lonely. There were no pretty flowers at my doorstep, or lush chocolates sent to my house. No one prepared a charming Italian dinner at my favorite restaurant. I wouldn’t get that lovely, picturesque kiss in a quaint, little boat upon moonlit-reflected water. And I doubted someone would pleasantly surprise me confessing their undying love. So, back to that romantic comedy.

Over the past nineteen years of my life, I never paid much attention to the silly holiday. I had a few willing guys in high school, but none that I was interested enough in. Sure, the gestures were nice. But would anything be meaningful if there weren’t any true feelings?

But this year was different, because I had finally kept someone that meant something to me. Sadly, he meant everything.

Just then, the jostled sound of a key turning a lock expelled from my front door. My heart began to thump forcibly against my chest. It was only nine in the morning – wouldn’t that be too early for a robbery? I gripped the nearby phone, ready to dial an emergency service, when Harry burst through the entrance. Niall shadowed behind him carrying a bag of potato chips.

I was going to kill him.

 

“How did you get in here?” I questioned, baffled and suspended in my spot. I would’ve been slamming my fists against Harry’s chest but I was still in shock, and grateful to know it wasn’t an intruder.

Harry stood in front of me, dangling a small key inches from my face. “I had a spare made. But anyways, I don’t know what to do with Vanessa for Valentine’s Day.”

I shook my head, still in nonsensical disbelief. “How did you even get my key in the first place?”

Niall was sitting on the couch beside me now, laughing loudly and holding his stomach.

“Alice!” Harry declared, “Focus! That’s not the problem here. Vanessa expects a lot and I can’t handle this pressure. Help me.” With a pout, he ambled across my flat, pacing from wall to wall. His normally neat curls were almost unruly from pulling at them with his hands every few minutes. Soft grumbles and complaints escaped his lips, and a worried expression was painted on his face.

I allowed myself to put off the mystery of why Harry had that key, to help him out. It was almost as awful as it was funny to see him so troubled.