Harrison Avenue // H.S.

Consequence of Love

Here is an extended cut of a Grey Street chapter from Harry's POV.

[Harry]

"Ellison, I don't want to be your friend."

The sentence rings in my ears the moment I say it out loud, my chest fluttering with a nervousness that is not rare around Elle. My head feels heavy with this confession, everything except for Elle next to me feeling a little blurry. The words escape my mouth in a burst, impossible to keep the thought inside my head any longer, and the feeling that follows is one that twists between excitement and total fear.

We both stop any movement forward, our after-dinner sunset walk coming to an abrupt halt. It feels as though the neighborhood around us is spinning.

When she asked that exact question, "Harry, can we just be friends?" just a few days ago, I lied to her.

I told her what I knew she wanted to hear in that moment, and I thought I could be okay with it. I was also sure that I had royally messed up any chance I did have with her by saying the wrong girl's name. So, I decided, in that moment, that I would do what she claimed she wanted – and I would be her friend.

And I do love being Ellison's friend – she's the best friend I have ever had. I'm also entirely in love with her though and that has felt increasingly impossible to ignore.

There was a moment where I thought she might right too. Summer is coming to an end and it's impossible to predict if Elle will be in my future. This time with her, spending nearly every moment together for months, has felt limitless. We're not living in a time where things like this can just keep going on though. I am meant to leave in a matter of weeks.

While my initial reaction to her question was to maybe believe her – believe that she's right in keeping things as they are, believe that she only wants to be friends, even though I'm almost certain by the look in her eyes that she doesn't mean it – now, I just need to tell her how I actually feel while I still can.

I don't want to be her friend. At least, that's not all I want.

"What?" Elle says, dropping the half-eaten popsicle that was in her hand only moments ago to the ground.

The popsicle lands in a sticky splash and our eyes follow it as it hits the ground. The red sugary ice starts to melt immediately in the warm air, pooling in a red puddle on the sidewalk between our feet. My eyes go back to Elle's, sensing the distress in hers. Her lips are tinted red, almost swollen looking from the cold popsicle she previously had in her possession. And the sun is shining on the side of her face, her hair looking more golden than it usually does, and lighting up her eyes in a way that makes the gray almost feel electric.

"Shit," I say, noting the popsicle on the ground once more. "That's not what I mean. I mean, I don't want to be just friends with you."

I try to clarify but it doesn't change Elle's reaction, just the same as before, still looking just as shocked.

"What?"

It's here where the realization of what I've just said finally catches up with me. A hesitancy follows, unsure if I should backtrack from what I just admitted, wondering if confessing the feelings that I have for her is really the right choice. The fear in her eyes is not necessarily reassuring.

"Umm," my next attempt comes out as a stutter at first, still hesitant. "The other night after we kissed, you asked if we could just be friends and I said yes. I was lying, Elle. I don't want that."

"Harry, stop," Elle says, shaking her head.

Despite her insistence for me to stop, I can't help but continue. Instead of causing any further worry in me, her plea is what pushes me into the desire to go all in. Elle needs to hear what I have to say. She needs to know how I feel - because I need to tell her.