isabella [h.s.]

twenty two

**Cause the days get brighter
when you're here, so I gotta keep you near,
goin' crazy and I just can't
get you outta my head**

ISABELLA

The view from the restaurant is absolutely beautiful, the lights littered across the marina walkway casting a yellow glow on the surface of the still, seemingly black water, reflecting the white yachts all lined up in a row. It almost looks deliberate, how neat it is, almost as if there's some law in place to ensure its perfection. The restaurant is just as perfect, white tables lined up just as meticulously as the yachts, dimly-lit but brightened by the yellow flickers of the candles on the tables, making the place look softer, more homely. All the servers are dressed in suit and tie and they constantly mill around us like moths to a flame, folding every napkin, adjusting the cutlery, quickly polishing a glass, making sure nothing is out of place.

Everyone at the table looks perfect too, everyone's appearances preened and proper. All of our clothing is a mix of whites and beiges, classic for the Hamptons, apart from Harry of course, who's wearing that baby blue shirt that makes his fresh tan pop in such a way that it's hard to drag your eyes away from him. Not that it's really an issue for me, because he's at the very end of the long table, in the seat the furthest away from mine, which I can't help but think may have been a deliberate decision on Brody's part. Unsurprisingly, Brody has seated himself at the head of the table, me sat on one side of him, and his best friend from college, Parker, who has a very annoying laugh, sat on the other.

To say that I'm not particularly enjoying this outing would be the understatement of the year. I can't really pinpoint exactly as to why, because the restaurant is pretty, the food is amazing, and my glass of wine seems to be getting constant refills without me even having to request it. Maybe it's the conversation, or the lack there of, because the discussion at my end of the table is centred around Brody and his friends reminiscing on their college days, which I obviously can't really join in with. I'm envious of Harry's position because he's seated next to Sinead and Jonah, the couple we played basketball with in the pool, who I think are the most down-to-earth people here. I hate to so easily lean on the stereotype of rich private schoolers, but from what I've seen so far, a lot of Brody's college friends seem to radiate the air of snobbery and arrogance that you'd expect, and although I never really noticed it before, probably because his circle in New York is quite different, Brody does too.

Occasionally, when I'm not staring at the bottom of my glass or fake smiling at the conversation around me, Harry catches my eye from the other end of the table, but I avoid his gaze. Throughout the meal, the only thing I've been thinking about is that moment we just shared in the hallway, my mind replaying it over and over in a constant loop. I don't know what it was or what it meant, or if it even meant anything at all, but regardless, there was something there. In that moment, with his arms wrapped around my waist, my body pressed to his chest and both of us losing ourselves in each other's eyes, there was definitely something there.