the journal - h.s.

13

Days rushed by. Hours. Cups of coffee emptied. Classes with Mr. Calvin. Laughs with Marc. A dinner with Daisy and Aria. Moments. Seconds. And constantly I had the journal with me. I hadn’t loosened the fragile leather strap again, but I had had it with me and the name Harry had become a shadow-like character in my life, a person whom I couldn’t quite focus on, but was constantly there. He seemed blurry, as if I couldn’t quite get a hold of him - but yet he was always just right there. Right there with the same words passing his lips in a distant neverending whisper; I’m tired of being alone.

“Doing anything fun tonight Amber?” Marc asked me with a huge grin, as a girl he had been staring at the past two hours had just headed out of the door. After giving him her number. What a nice Friday.

I laughed at the still visible and very adorable blush in his cheeks, “yeah I was thinking about spending the evening at Jenny’s actually. The new girl. Didn’t you have a shift with her Wednesday or something? I narrowed my eyes at him trying to recall what he had told me. “Yup.” He popped the p still grinning, as he fiddled with the edge of the paper with the phone number. I couldn’t help but compare the handwriting to his. To Harry’s. Forcefully leading my mind elsewhere than to that very place, I focused on Marc’s words, “...a lot better at making latte art than me already.”

I didn’t say anything. Still angry at myself for thinking about the journal. About him. I didn’t even know him - and yet I felt as if I did. As if I had to keep him safe. Him and his damn beautiful mind.

“Oh yeah ehm - so what did you just say cause I didn’t catch the first bit honestly.”

Marc laughed out loud at my frankness, making a few of the customers look up at us here behind the counter in surprise. I chuckled along with him.

“Sorry.”

“I was simply stating the oh-so-boring fact, that I was invited as well. But I can’t make it though.” Marc teased me softly with his adorable smile, which furthermore helped to soften his words.

I winched, “oh bummer. Could have been been fun otherwise.”

It was evening, I was at Jenny’s and the burning feeling of the alcohol from my third shot was making its way out through my body. Intoxicating my system with every cell making my surroundings go a little blurrier. Everything from the decolorized West Side Story poster on the lightly lavender colored wall to the bohemian style sofa. The dimmed light from the old red lamp that left everything in a crimson light. From the dead pot plants in the window to the totally overfilled ashtray on the coffee glass table, on which several liquor bottles were placed as well. Loud music, chatting and laughter all around me blended together making my mind spin.

“Amber - you sure as hell can drink!” Zayn exclaimed impressed with a huge grin, making me stick my tongue at the black haired boy, whose eyes were also slightly bleary from drinking.

It turned out the couple, who had been looking for Jenny at the café last Monday, was here tonight as well. Or well one of them at least. I didn’t know where Jenny was right now - though I expected her to be out in the smoke filled little kitchen with the others, blowing the smoke out through the open small kitchen window with that crack. You could see the dull backyard from that window.

Perrie - Zayn’s girlfriend, the girl with the lavender colored hair, hadn’t been able to make it tonight unfortunately. Zayn had told she had an art assignment. Or something like that, it wasn’t easy to remember the details when you were partly intoxicated.

Himself had been entertaining me most of the night. It had turned dark outside long ago but if you stood on the tip of your toes in the right side of the shabby couch you could - actually - see the magnificent ocean of city lights. The building opposite to this one covered most of the view, but since the small appartment was the outermost one in the complex you could actually see the breathtaking ocean of Chicago’s light if doing so.

“I can’t possible be as hardcore as you. You’re quite badass actually,” I chuckled as he emptied another of the cherry shots, the taste still lingering on my pink lips. I wasn’t - honestly - much of a drinker. Yeah it was fun and yeah I had had my times through senior year and that time of uni I actually managed to stay, but it wasn’t my usual ‘thing’.

“I’m not that badass. I make cartoons for living after all.” He stated, his hazel colored eyes shining with amusement. He had graduated this summer, Perrie was in her last year now. While he had studied animation with a main focus on cartoons, comics that sort, she studied art history.

“Comics are pretty badass if you ask me,” I watched Zayn as he took another drag of the cigarette exhaling the smoke into the air, “and I’m usually right.”

My words withdrew that crooked smile, where he would put his tongue behind the teeth, “you’re pretty badass yourself Amber. For a barista. I mean you even managed to teach Jenny.”

I cracked a smile at him shaking my head lightly. The alcohol was seriously beginning to affect my system, which I knew since every single fucking thing was absolutely hilarious. I started giggling and so did Zayn. Along his laughter came out small puffs of smoke, which didn’t helped at my attempt to stop laughing as a lunatic. Zayn ended up starting to cough because we couldn’t quit howling with laughter. Oh my god. I was so drunk.

“I have to go to the ladies room,” I sang high pitched trying to be funny, which only made him cough even wilder, as he apparently did find it very hillarious. He covered his mouth with a fist and as I got up the room seemed to be turning a little. Shit. I steadied myself by grabbing Zayn’s shoulder, who rolled his eyes at me. Still half chuckling - half choking.

“What?” I hadn’t been able to make out what he had try to say because of the weird mix of noises coming from him at this point. And maybe it was because I was getting to the point of being totally pissed. Emptying those three shots in a row with Zayn after a couple of beers and God knew what else had totally knocked me off.

“You’re obviously trying,” he took a deep breath still laughing, ”to kill me off and,” he held his index finger up high, while tears started to form in his pretty eyes, as he kept on with the uncontrollable cough-laughter, “that sure is pretty badass.”

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