part IV. 3-1-15

Well. Tonight was beautiful.

Arabella came to the door, her wild curls tamed by a headwrap like the field hockey girls wear. She looked a little surprised. She told me she hadn't expected me so early, and she laughed her contagious laugh.

We sat down on her couch with a pizza she ordered and began going over our French homework. She was very beautiful, leaning over her papers. Finally she sat up.
She declared, "That's enough, Harry. I never want to hear grand-mere again as long as I live, okay? Do you want to just hang out?"

My heart lept, though on the outside I nodded nonchalantly. Of course, I wanted to hang out!
She led me to her room. Her
ceiling had some sort of beautiful wallpaper, printed with the swirling cosmos, so that being in her room felt like lingering on the galaxy's edge. Her walls and her blankets and her furniture were minimal and white.

I loitered by the door, shy of entering Arabella's room, until she called me adorable and beckoned me to sit next to her. God, she killed me. She was making me fall in love.

Arabella saw me looking at the ceiling. "Oh," she said, bashfully. "I was thirteen when I had my dad put that up. My style's changed a lot, now, see?"

"Don't be embarassed," I told her. "It's beautiful." I told her it was like clinging to the galaxy's edge, just like I'd thought.

Arabella blushed. "Thank you."
We sat on the bed and we talked about things that I won't write down, because they were only meant for my ears. I was in bliss under the spell of the girl whose caramel faced broke into that other-worldly smile when she laughed softly at things I said when I tried to be funny.

It was eight o'clock tonight when the buzz of her phone interrupted us. Arabella glanced down at her phone, and blushed. "Excuse me," she said, and she left the room to talk. The walls aren't very thick in her house, so I wasn't trying to when I heard all that she said.

"Z?...Yeah, where've you been?...I know, I know...No...M'with Harry....Harry Styles...from French class...yeah...alright Zayn..."

And then, in a softer voice, like she was quite unsure, I heard her say, "Love you, too," and I was angry again.

Arabella walked back into her room and smiled wanly at me. "I'm sorry, Harry. I'm needed elsewhere. Do you mind if I just show you to your car?"

I nodded, and she showed me to my car. She gave me a kiss on the cheek, and she said, "Bye, Harry."