At 22, Samantha Harper didn't think she'd find herself stuck. With her final year looming over her head, she needed to find her story - or else she could kiss graduation goodbye. In walks Harry - tall, cute, and her sisters best mate. He always had...
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Six Months Earlier – August 2015
It was unbearably hot for a London evening at ten o'clock.
The windows of our small flat had been opened all day, hoping to suck in any bit of breeze that it could get. I had been dressed all day in a pair of cotton shorts with a t-shirt that had seen better days. Yet in my state of almost-undress, with the windows open and an ice pack glued to my neck, it only seemed to be getting hotter.
God, could you stop with that whole global warming thing? It's getting to be a bit much...
The sounds of Covent Garden could be heard from the open window. The bustling of cars driving past and the chatter of people, enjoying the last few weekends left of summer. It amazed me that the blistering heat didn't stop people from going out. I, on the other hand, could not imagine leaving the confines of my couch. Neither did Patsy, my ginger cat, who had nestled her way in between my leg and cushion.
But because my luck had never been on my side, my mobile began to ring. For a split second, I thought to ignore it. It was Friday night and the chances were very high that my roommate and twin sister was drunk and needed me to pick her up.
Oh did she have another thing coming if that was the case. I had already made the decision that I was permanently glueing my body to my living room couch for the rest of the weekend. Classes were starting up soon which meant so did my final year of uni. I didn't want to waste those last precious moments I had left in a dingy Soho club when I could be watching copious amounts of Friends reruns. I had an unhealthy love for Chandler Bing. I mean – how could you not? He was quite possibly my dream man.
The incessant ringing died down after a couple seconds, much to my satisfaction, only for it to be replaced by the loud knocking at my front door.
"Oh for Christ's sake, are you kidding me?" I yelled, causing Patsy to jump. She glared at me, her bright yellow eyes glaring. "Sorry sister, don't blame me." The knocking persistent, only becoming stronger. "It's open," I croaked – my throat dry, just like this bloody heat. The knocking continued, "Oh for heaven's sake, the door is open!"
Whoever was behind the door had problems hearing because the knocking only continued, adding to my already bubbling aggravation. Patsy, whose eyes were half shut lifted her body off and crawled over to the other end of the couch, burying her head into my pile of clean laundry. She mewled annoyed. "Don't give me that sass, missy. I'm not the one performing a karate routine on our door," I told her with my hands outstretched. She mewed in retort and turned her body away.
Grumbling under my breath, I shuffled my feet along the wooden floor and towards the door. "You know, knocking down my door isn't going to make me walk any faster," I opened the door to be met with the unruly hair of my next-door neighbour. I could hear the steady beat of whatever music he had been blasting in his earbuds, his hand going back up to knock.
