Click to Subscribe

chapter 5



School the next day goes by painfully slowly. First Calculus, then Physics, then History—it’s like they’re trying to kill me. I can’t concentrate at all during class, either. All I can think about is Harper Harper Harper and how OMG I’M MEETING HER AFTER SCHOOL and AAHHHH YESSS I NEED THIS and that’s pretty much it. It’s not like this is abnormal, though, because the classes here don’t interest me much anyway—well, except for English. I’m the complete, shameless English nerd. My mom used to make fun of me for constantly correcting her grammar and even pulling that “Knock Knock. Who’s there? To. To who? Jeez, Mom, don’t you know anything? It’s to whom!” joke on her. I read a bit too, but not as much as I would want. I’m mostly into English so I can criticize people’s grammar and “lack of eloquent word choice” whenever possible.

Anyway, worrying about Harper and how our meet-up will go keeps me well occupied throughout the entire day. I don’t think I could name one thing we did in any of the classes.

Finally, after what feels like a century, the last class ends. As soon as the teacher dismisses us, I dart out the door, grab my bag, and race down the hall toward the school entrance.

My pulse quickens. Holy shit. I finally get to meet Harper.

“Where are you going?” Cat calls after me, but I just wave my hand and say, “A meeting.” Technically it isn’t a lie, although it isn’t much by way of honesty either. But really, I’m not exactly thrilled by the idea of Cat knowing about Harper. I don’t know why, I just want to keep it, like with my vlog, separate from her.

As soon as I burst through the front doors of the school, I run down to the parking lot, hop into Dad’s car, and drive probably too fast down to the coffee shop. When I pull into the parking lot of the shop a few minutes later, all of my emotion seems to crash down on me at once. I’m really doing this, I realize, gripping the steering wheel too hard. Four months of waiting and I’m finally meeting Harper.

Again, I repeat: holy shit.

Slowly, I get out of the car and cool air blasts me from all around. I straighten up, taking a breath. Then, with my eyes locked on the coffee shop door, I start walking to the girl of my dreams.

My pulse is pounding as I approach, and each step, each crunch of leaves underfoot, makes my ears ring and makes my whole body get tenser and tenser. I’m going to meet Harper, I tell myself. Oh my god oh my god I’m seriously going to meet her. In that instant everything that could possibly go wrong seems to race my through my head, and my heart keeps on thudding, thudding, thudding. What if she decides I’m too awkward for her? What if she hates me? What if she takes one look at me, laughs, and walks out? What if I screw up my one shot with her like I have everything else in my life?

I shake my head, trying to push away the bad thoughts because this is supposed to be a happy time, but they just keep coming back.

Above me, the sky is cloudy, and it looks vaguely like it’s going to rain. There are a few picnic tables bordering the pathway leading to the coffee shop, one of which is occupied by an elderly man reading a trashy romance novel. I grimace. There is something utterly terrifying about an old man reading those kinds of books. I half-expect him to turn out to be Harper in pedophilic form.

When I reach the old coffee shop door, I take one final breath, pull open the brass knob, and step inside, my heart pounding furiously, my mind racing with the possibilities, knowing that there is a good chance I’m about to meet Harper.

And… nothing.

I scan the coffee shop with my hands completely clenched, but aside from a bored-looking cashier and a twenty-something couple feeding each other marshmallows and giggling in a totally non-discreet romantic way, the place is empty. My stomach drops a little and I can feel the disappointment creep in already. I mean, I’m five minutes early, but I still hoped… that I could see her now, I guess. See her for real. Hoped I would not have to worry, to wait any longer for her.

I just want to talk to her already, face to face, so I can tell her how I really feel, so I can finally get it out. And yeah, I obviously want her to feel about me as I feel about her, but even if she doesn’t, just loving her is gift enough. She could hate me, she could run away and never come back and even though I’d be hurt, even though I’d spend my nights crying and lying awake thinking about her, it will all have been worth it, because I will have loved her.

Sighing, I sit down, my gaze on the front door. She’ll be here any minute, I tell myself. It’s both a terrifying and exhilarating feeling: that I could look up any second now and lay eyes on the girl I’ve been falling for all these months. My hands have not stopped trembling, and as I sit there and stare, it’s all I can do not to imagine what will happen when I see her. Will everything go in slow motion like in the movies? Will her face light up when she sees me? Will she run at me and jump into my arms, or just awkwardly walk over, nod, and sit down? And what exactly am I going to say to her, anyway? “Oh hey Harper, you’ve never even met me before in real life but I’m in love with you and will you marry and while we’re at it, let’s have kids together!” does not sound like the greatest plan. Then of course my back-up plan is, “uh… hi,” which also is not very smooth.

I close my eyes. God, what am I even doing here? It’s so much easier to talk through the internet than in real life. She’ll immediately realize what a freak I am and then I can kiss goodbye to all hope that I’ll ever be with her.

Gaaah. Was this a mistake? Did I rush it? No, I tell myself. She suggested meeting up. Not you. Clearly she’s interested. I take yet another breath. Okay. It’s okay.

After a while I lean back in my chair, listening to the sounds of the couple to my right, who are now done feeding each other marshmallows and have moved on to whispering into each other’s ears and kissing rather passionately for a coffee shop. It’s like they’re trying to taunt me about being here alone. Without Harper.

I shift my gaze to my left, where a cashier snores softly on the counter. The whole place is painfully quiet.

I just want Harper to get here.

The thing is, I’ve never seen her before and I’m therefore not entirely sure how I’ll recognize her, but I have this gut feeling that I’ll know who she is the moment I lay eyes on her. I’ll know she’s my Harper, the one who I can’t get out of my head, the one who I don’t want to get out of my head. The one who, all this time, I’ve been falling in love with.

I wait.

My eyes stay glued to the door for several more minutes, but there’s still no sign of Harper. After a while longer I pull out my phone and start wasting my time on random apps and memes, as well as by constantly refreshing my vlog page for no real reason. Where is Harper? She didn’t strike me as someone to be late to something like this.

Finally, forty minutes after she was supposed to get here, when I’m just about ready to call it quits and leave, she messages me through our chatroom.

Hey Sam,

Sorry I couldn’t make it. Something came up. I feel like an a*shole, because I still DO want to meet. Can we try again? Tomorrow maybe? Ugh, still so sorry for not being there. I’m an idiot.



My heart sinks a little further as I read it. I close my eyes, the defeat slipping in. I feel like a pouty five year old thinking this, but I want her here now.

Yeah sure… I write. Okay. Tomorrow. Same time/place?

Yes! I seriously feel terrible for leaving you. I hope you weren’t waiting too long. Tomorrow, yes. I’ll be there. PROMISE.

With the Chewbacca glasses?

Hell yes with the Chewbacca glasses. How could you doubt me? Also, I think next time we need to wear something so we each stand out to each other… How about I wear a “I <3 Sam Green” shirt?

Yesss! And I’ll have on a custom-made “Harper Knight Is Cooler Than Pizza-Eating Cows” shirt.

And by custom-made I assume you mean made with markers from your house?

Of course.

I would expect no less.

They’ll be badass marker drawings, obviously.

Wait, really?

*waggles brows* Really.

Good. I should never have doubted you.

That is true. Now, promise to bring yourself tomorrow, too, k?

Of course. Prepare to be blown away by my drop-dead good looks.

Oh believe me, I am prepared, m’lady.

Coolness. See you tomorrow!

Bye!

I start at my phone for a while after she logs off, re-reading the conversation again and again. After the third time, the reality sinks in. A smile flickers across my lips.

Tomorrow, I meet Harper Knight. For real this time.