Three weeks have passed since I walked out of Eloise's birthday party.

Loser, right?

I can't still believe I stomped out of the party after I threw the desserts. That line is so wrong in many ways.

Stomped out of the party.

Threw the desserts.

I've never done either of them before, but I did both in a span of two minutes. All because I let that 'Harrison of a bitch' get under my skin. I wished I would never see him again, but who am I kidding, we go to the same school.

Boo!👎

As if the one who's handling my fate hates me, I see him almost everyday. My body is alerted whenever he's around. Hearing his voice is like an alarm clock ruining my inner peace. I'm still not sure which one is better: him, ignoring my presence or the opposite. I wouldn't know the answer because he always makes his presence known.

"Hey, you're too big and blocking the way."

Someone has pushed me sideways, my left shoulder bumps on the glass wall outside of the cafeteria. I mutter a curse when the cup of hot chocolate as well as the two books I am holding fly out of my hands.

Please, hot choco, not on my—-

Argh!!!

I watch in horror when the cup lands on top of the books, spilling all its brown contents. My blood is boiling with rage. I look up, open my mouth, and ready to lash at the bastard.

"You!"

That's not me. Words die down my throat at the sight in front of me. Harrison in his blue jeans and white T-shirt is twisting a guy's hands behind him and forcing him to walk towards me.

Flabbergasted. That's what I feel.

Never in my wildest dream I would see Harrison acting like a bad boy. Having a gang leader as a brother, I guess, raises the bar of my definition of a bad boy. Why did I think that Harrison is only money, fame and panty-dropper gorgeous?

"Move! Apologize to her," he glances at me and although it isn't directed to me, I shiver at the anger radiating from his eyes.

My emotions are all over. My heart is dancing with the thought that he's acting like a knight in shining armour. I'm annoyed that he makes me feel like a damsel in distress and couldn't fight for myself. My eyes are gawking at the contracting muscles which are more defined than ever. And my messed up brain cannot fathom the reason why he cares.

"What the fuck, mate!" The guy I'm not familiar with, tries to peer over his shoulder and escape from Harrison but the latter is bigger than him, his biceps are screaming strength and melting the waistband of my panties.

"That fatso is — dammit!"

Harrison tightens his grip and twists his arms more, making the guy and me wince. His quick reaction on his words makes me speechless that I just stupidly watch the scene unfolds.

"No one has the right to bully her," says Harrison.

The f! Didn't he know he's a bully for three weeks now?

"Apologize, now!" I flinch as his loud voice booms in the hallway and all the students in the area watch us like we are a movie.

"Fuck, sorry!" The guy says in a pained expression but Harrison doesn't release him. "Fine! I'm sorry for pushing you."

"More," Harrison says, pushing the guy, making him take another step forward.

"What else? I already said sorry for pushing her," the guy says, annoyed but his face is pained. Surely, his wrists are bruised from the firm hold.

"You called her names."

"Ok ok. Apologies for calling you fatso."

Harrison abruptly releases his arms making him fall on his knees right on the puddle of brown liquid. I snatch my books and wipe them on his T-shirt. From the corner of my eyes, I see the retreating figure of my knight.

Clutching the books on my chest, I dash after him.

"Harrison, wait!"

He ignores me and walks faster instead. I'm panting heavily and have to stop outside the building to catch my breath, bending and putting my free hand on my knee. A casual walk is my thing. Hurrying, dashing, and running aren't. I don't like to look like a bouncing ball. I shout his name but it comes out like a broken whisper.

What's his problem? Isn't it like in the movies when a guy stays and looks at the girl with passion and worried eyes as he asks if she is okay?

What am I thinking, this is not a movie. In real life, guys won't stop after saving a girl. I should know better by watching my brother do it countless times to nameless girls.

But I'm not a random girl, am I? Maybe, for him, I'm not special.

My heart feels heavy with that thought so I inhale deeply, letting the cold air numb my confused feelings for him. He makes me feel different emotions that I can't pinpoint whether I like him or not, but one thing is sure, he's special. I mouth a thank you even though he cannot hear it, watching his back until he disappears in my line of vision.

🍰

"Oreo cheesecake and opera cake for Kira."

I show the receipt to the staff before she pushes the tray towards me.

"Thanks," I say but my eyes are already focused on the delectable slices of cake. "Yum!"

I lift the tray and turn around but before I could step forward, someone snatches the oreo and puts it on another tray.

"Her treat." The dark-haired hot guy in white shirt, blue jeans and white sneakers says sweetly to the girl beside me.

Harrison Visser.

"What—"

"Really?" The girl beside me is beaming at me like a kid on Christmas day. I clear my throat, preparing to tell her the truth but the next thing she says, stops me. "Thank you. I really want this but I don't have enough money. Thank you. Thank you."

I nod, unable to say a word. She almost skips towards the table at the corner of the cafe. When the annoying guy in front of me attempts to leave, I grab his shoulder and hiss at him.

"Explain." If eyes can kill, he's now buried ten feet below the ground.

"What?" He sounds so innocent just like the first time he snatched the lemon tart from my plate and ate it without my permission. I know well enough that he purposely did it, like all the other desserts he ruined.

"You know very well what I'm trying to say."

He fills his lungs with air and looks at me with a poker face. "You heard her, she has no money to buy it."

"Should I clap my hands at your noble act?" I make a quote gesture to emphasise the last two words. He doesn't say anything so I place the tray on the counter to cross my arms over my chest. This will be added among the list of Harrison Of A Bitch. "Are you feeling guilty of eating or ruining my desserts so now you're putting on the nice-guy act?

"I'm always nice." A smirk forms in his kissable lips.

I scoff. "If your definition of nice is eating my food, purposely bumping to me so that my ice cream kissed the ground or my tiramisu creamed the table, and swaying your elbows to topple over my large slurpee, then you better buy a real dictionary."

"What's wrong with what I did?" He ignores everything I throw at him. "Aren't you grateful that you make someone happy?"

"If I don't know you, I might believe you. But these past few weeks you're annoying as fuck. How do you even know she wants the cheesecake?"

The smirk is back on his lips and it irritates me more. There should be a law that includes smirk, specifically Harrison Visser's, as a form of harassment. It's injecting the butterflies into my stomach without my permission.

"Unlike you, my surroundings don't stop when I stare at the desserts. A while ago, she ordered a green tea and an oreo cheesecake, but was unable to pay for both."

Am I like that? I know I love desserts but I didn't realise everything is on mute when I stare at them. What I know is that whenever Harrison is around, the world arounds us becomes blurry.

Does it mean he's a dessert I would like to devour? No way. I can't forgive him for being a dessertblocker, if there's a word like that, depriving me from having a foodgasm.

"If you are such a good egg as you claimed to be, why didn't you pay for her food instead?" I raised an eyebrow, in a challenging stance.

He chuckles, "Why would I do that if you have a spare cake in your tray."

I glare at him. "The cheesecake was not a spare one. I'm going to eat it." If he thinks he'll win this time, he's very wrong. "You know that I can buy it again. Heck, I'll buy all the desserts on the shelf."

He neither budge nor reacts to what I say.

"What? You think I won't do it?"

"I know you'll do it."

Is he challenging me?

We have a staring contest for a few seconds before I turn to tell the staff that I will buy all the desserts on display. She gapes at me like I'm crazy. Maybe I am but I will not back down from the challenge. Harrison Visser should know very well not to mess with a girl who craves sweets.

"$596, tap whenever you're ready."

I immediately hover my phone on top of the apple pay device. When the staff gives me the receipt, I turn around and smirk at the infuriating guy.

Harrison smirks back before clapping his hands to call the customers' attention.

"Everyone, Kira here," he points at me. My steps and smirk have faltered, "bought all the desserts for you to enjoy. Line up and get your portion!"

Everyone claps and cheers, chanting my name.

"Harrison Visser, what on the freaking earth are you doing?!" I say through gritted teeth and grab him closer to mine so that no one can hear us as the patrons of the cafe line up at the collection area. Looking at the volume of people, I might not get a single slice of cake.

"Sharing is caring, right? What will you do with those desserts?"

Honestly, I didn't think about it. This guy is making me do foolish things but he will never know that.

"None of your business." I inhale sharply. "Now, tell me why you always messed up with my desserts. I deserve an explanation for your shitty behaviour."

"Hey, not always. Only if you're going to eat more than you need." He releases a hefty sigh as if he's having a battle whether to tell me more or not. I cock my head to the right, maintaining eye contact . "You have an eating disorder when it comes to desserts. I'm doing you a favour, in fact."

Heat creeps on my face. He didn't just say that. No guy should comment about a girl's diet. I clear my throat to save myself.

"What are you? My mother, who could tell me what to do?" I spat.

"Last time I checked, I didn't give birth to someone."

"Are you my boyfriend who can manipulate me?"

"I didn't manipulate my girlfriend."

He has a girlfriend?! He says, didn't, past tense so he's single, right? Suddenly, I can't think of a comeback.

"Do you want me to be your boyfriend so that I can care for you?"

A shiver runs down my spine at the intensity of his stare and the lack of playfulness in his face.

"Are you kidding me?"

Our banter is interrupted when I see James, his friend, jogging towards us.

"Hey, Harry," James bumps into his shoulder. "Can I borrow your beach house in Brighton this weekend?"

"Not this time, James. Last week, I had to pay my Dad for all the damages from Tom's party."

James' expression is grimmed. "Dude, it's my birthday party."

"Am I invited?" asks Harrison.

"No, you don't like those kinds of parties."

"What?! No way. Fuckin' shit if I allow you to use our house for that." Harrison shows a grimace of disgust. Whatever it is, it isn't a wholesome one.

Anger is now visible on James' face. "I thought you were my friend."

"I am."

"Clearly not, if you can't let me hold my party at your fucking beach house."

Harrison's face softened, but his fists were balled on his sides.

"Fine," he takes a deep breath, "you can have it."

"What the hell!" I don't realise I say it out loud until they both look at me and Harrison turns on his heels to leave, James follows and wraps his arms on his shoulder. Harrison's body tenses and speeds up, making James's arm fall on his side.

It's as clear as day that he doesn't want it but why did he say otherwise. I want to knock some sense into him but I remember my opera cake. This time I won't walk away from it.

Picking up the tray, I sit on the nearest chair. Every encounter with Harrison makes the dessert tasteless and feels like I'm eating a rubber. I replay our banter and furrow my eyebrows at his easy submission to James.

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Hi!

Are you loving the story so far? Got an idea for Harrison's behavior towards his friend?

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Lovelots,
Alya