snitch

18

Stella Flores

I drove home, not being able to get Harry out of my head. The way his mouth felt against my lips, against my body.

I couldn't tell anyone what happened between us because no one would understand. Not even Taylor or Isla. They would think that it means something more than it is.

Maybe it does but I don't know and I don't want to get anyone's hopes up. Especially mine.

I would love to think that we can be in a relationship like normal high school kids but there is something I don't know. I can feel it. And I know that whatever he is keeping from me, is the reason he wants me to stay away from him. I hate that it has to be this way but unfortunately I think it does.

I pulled into my driveway, and I got out of the car, looking at the time to make sure I wasn't going to get bitched at the minute I got inside. It was 9:57. Right in time.

I walk inside, not one person in sight. I was starving, and I would've picked up food on the way but I figured my mom would have made dinner. I walked to the kitchen and in the corner of my eye I saw a note taped to the fridge.

Hi honey! Your sister, father, and I went out to eat. We will be back in a bit and we'll bring you back a plate.

Great. I probably won't eat it tonight because by the time they get here, it'll be like 1 am. I went upstairs to my room, and a brown package sat on my bed.

I wasn't expecting anything. I opened the box wearily, to reveal a book and a note. The note caught my attention first as I wanted to find out where this came from.

This is a good one, read it. -H

There is only one H this could be. I grab the book, curious on what he recommended. It was a book called Milk and Honey. I flip to the back to see what it's about. It is a poetry book written by a survivor expressing her experience of violence, love, abuse, femininity, and loss. It seemed like an amazing book, but I could not accept it. Simply because it's from him.

I grab my phone, and call Harry. The line rings a few times before I hear a rasped, accent flavored voice coming from the other end.

Harry: "I was just with you baby. Do you truly miss me already?"

Me: "You're an idiot. I called because I can't accept your gift."

The line goes silent for a second, before he responds.

Harry: "I wasn't sure if it was an insensitive choice considering what happened on Monday but I had read it and I thought it was a good read. I-"

I cut him off before he continued. It wasn't because the book is about a survivor of sexual assault and their experiences. I wasn't even aware.

Me: "Harry, relax. It seems like a great book, I just can't let you buy me things."

Harry: "I didn't buy it for you. It's mine, I'm letting you borrow it."

I rolled my eyes, although he couldn't even see me.

Me: "Fine."

Harry: "Read it. For me."

My heart melts to his words, and I nodded my head.

Me: "I will."

Harry: "Bye love."

The call ended before I could respond and my knees weakened when he called me "love". It sounded especially good coming from him because of his accent.