Awkward Beat [H.S]

Chapter 31

In which Fitz is all out of schemes and honesty fails, too.

Chapter 31

If there was any good in being on the outs with one's best friend and playing the 'mutual silent treatment' game with one's flatmate, it was that one tended to catch up on all the schoolwork one would have otherwise neglected.

I'd spent the entire weekend holed up in the library, which was a first for June Fitzpatrick. My greatest fear had become looking Harry in the eyes, which was why I had to get out of the flat – however, he had the same idea and was never there when I returned at the end of the day. I purposely waited until I'd heard him turn off the shower and exit the flat until I got myself out of bed in the mornings, and at night, we'd retreat to our rooms and emerge at different times to use the bathroom or to grab snacks from the kitchen.

In fact, after Friday's date with Zayn, the next time I saw Harry in the flesh was the following Wednesday.

Here's the kicker: the setting of our reunion wasn't even our flat.

He'd climbed to the second floor of the Rec Center for a sandwich from the Hub Cub while I happened to be working. I didn't spot him until he was waiting patiently in the sandwich queue behind a couple of others. Even then I was sure it wasn't him, forcing myself to do a double take to confirm. Harry never visited the Hub Cub – with me bringing him sandwiches at the end of my shifts, there was never any need.

"Harry," I breathed, in awe of his presence.

"Hi," he muttered in return from across the counter.

"My shift ends in thirty minutes. I could have brought one home for you."

He shrugged, his expression blank as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Doesn't matter."

It was then that I realized that someone else was invested in our conversation. Thomas eyed down the production line, his gaze flickering from Harry to me and back again. When I threw him a sharp glare, he merely raised his eyebrows.

"That's Harry?" he asked, keeping his voice low as he gestured to Harry with a nod of his chin.

For the love of God. I pretending to be enthralled by the sandwich I was making, replying in a clipped tone, "Yep."

"Harry Styles?"

The slight furrow in Harry's brows told me he was confused, as were the two people in front of him in the queue.

"Thomas." I said his name as a warning, shaking my head to alert him it was a bad idea.

"Harry Styles, your future husband?" he went on, deriving the most delicious enjoyment from this. I shut my eyes and breathed through my nose, desperately trying to keep my cool. "The one you heart?"

There was no point trying to stop him. The more I showed him that it affected me, the more he'd torment me.

We had a healthy working relationship.

"Don't be shy, June. It's written all over your face." He snorted at his own humour while I felt my cheeks heat up and wished I could crawl into a dark hole and promptly die.

In fact, it was written all over my face. 'I [HEART] HARRY STYLES', which Harry himself had scrawled in permanent marker so long ago. For some reason, Thomas had never been able to let it go.

But Harry had, and with one apologetic glance in his direction, I knew that he had no idea what Thomas was on about and was extremely uncomfortable as a result.