Who You Are

Chapter 8

Maddie's voice stunned me out of my humiliation and I stepped around Mark with something like a shriek when I saw: "Harry! It's so good to see you!"

It wasn't really weird to see him anymore either. When he and Maddie had first started dating, seeing him up close and in our apartment had felt as crazy as if we were having the Queen of England come to stay. All I could see was the boy on stage, the boy on magazine covers, the boy on award shows and morning talk shows, in his glamorous, flowy shirts, sporting his long, glorious mane of hair.

Now, I realized as I hugged him, he was just Harry. Tired, still somewhat sweaty, Harry. Who'd just come from one of those morning talk shows. Who'd just gotten back from a world tour. Who'd likely had his fill of giving himself over to the public for the moment, and was coming to us for respite. To Maddie. My best friend. The girl he loved.

He was just Harry. My friend.

"You too," he said over my shoulder, giving me a tight squeeze.

"I'd greet you, dude, but I'm afraid to move."

"Don't you dare." I spun around to face him, the awkwardness of moments ago gone—like Maddie and Harry had entered and effectively popped the swelling balloon of it. "I'll have to start all over."

"As if you don't know all of this backwards and forwards already," Mark quipped, giving me a raised brow before glancing down at the post-its.

Good. We were back to normal.

"So, uh... whatcha doing?" Maddie asked, her voice entirely too interested.

Which made me realize exactly what this looked like. Which was exactly what this wasn't.

I didn't need Maddie thinking it was what it looked like. Because it wasn't.

"I have an Anatomy exam in three days," I started to say, just as Mark replied, "Studying." I gave him a firm stare that meant, "Shut up," to which he rolled his eyes, before going on, "And if I don't know all the bones of the body like the back of my hand, I'm screwed, and Mark..." I gave him a pat on the shoulder, "was nice enough to help me study."

"She made me."

"He's going to help me with the muscles, too."

There. That was for getting us into this predicament in the first place. If he hadn't insisted on breakfast, and been annoyingly adamant about it, we wouldn't be in this situation—where Maddie was looking between the two of us like she just knew something was going on.

When it wasn't.

"Wow, that's so nice of him," she said, pointedly, glaring at Mark.

I'd have to set her straight later. I certainly couldn't do it now. Still, I was flustered enough that I glanced at Mark, who glanced back, but I plastered a smile on my face and rushed on, "So, how'd everything go?"

"Amazing." Harry's answer came quickly, and I knew there was more to it when he and Maddie shared a glance. And this one was the kind you share with someone you love. The knowing kind—something you both know that nobody else does.

My chest ached. Throbbed. I didn't have that anymore. Those knowing kinds of glances.

It was over.

"—show was incredible," Maddie said next.

"Awesome!" I said, probably with too much enthusiasm, just as Mark asked from beside me, "What show?"

"The Today Show, Mark," Maddie said, exasperated. "Harry performed on it this morning."