*༶тαѕтєѕ ѕσ ѕωєєт | h.ѕ ༶*

17 & Black ♡

♡

"You have just about the sweetest face I've ever seen!" Misses Hemmings, says standing in front of the wooden checkout counter I stand behind handing her a bag filled with books.

Misses Hemmings is in her mid-fifties and comes in every single Thursday to buy a new murder mystery novel or five. She is a sweet lady beside the fact she never lets me forget "What a pretty or sweet face" I have.

Nothing else.

"Thank you, Miss Hemmings. Have a good day now." She leaves with a smile on her face, slipping through the glass door.

I take a deep breath trying not to have a mental break down about all of the times my old friends from high school would also think the nicest and most considerate thing they could say to me was "At least you've got a nice face." or "Hey you aren't that fat."

The best part of that was, is when they felt like shit because their boyfriend of two weeks broke up with them or they gained five pounds and couldn't squeeze into there prom dresses, I made sure no matter what that they still felt beautiful, and knew they were worth something.

Maybe I was hoping they would start stepping up when I needed someone to tell me that I was pretty too.

"Lola! What are you doing here?" I decide to stop pouting and put a smile on my face as I watch Lola walk through the door of the book shop in her skinny jeans and high heels.

"Oh, you know me, Just checking out the latest sap fest novel." She pretends to scan the books with her brown eyes. After only seconds I begin to laugh, and so does she.

She's an awful actress.

"So what are you really doing here?" I lean over the counter watching Lola flip through the bookmarks on the counter.

"I was actually coming to ask you about that hot guy from last night." I cringe thinking she is talking about the fifty-year-old man's lap she was all over last night.

"The old guy? Lola, are you trying to tell me that you are into older men?" Her face turns into disgust at my words.

"No Flora, not him, the guy outside my car last night. Remember? He was tall, tattoos all over, long curly hair...Ring a bell?"

Now I really cringe because of course, I remember that "hot guy" from last night but I am also trying to forget about him because he still hasn't called yet and I don't think he is going to.

Harry.

"Oh yeah, I remember." I try to say as cool as possible.

"You gave him my number right?"

Her number?

"No.." She rolls her eyes "What! Why not?"

"Because he gave me his number," I tell her, and her eyes squint at me like she is confused.

"So he gave you his number to give to me?" She says coming around the counter, digging her hand into the front pocket of my jeans and pulling out my cell phone that sits in a pastel pink case. She is scrolling through my contacts and I watch her face go from excited to muddled.

"He sent himself a message to himself from you?" She holds up the phone and I read the message over again.

Hi, Harry, this is Flora.

I try to hide the smile wanting to break across on my face.

"He actually bought me a drink too," I say covering my face with the sleeves of my sweater. I can feel my cheeks redden as I tell Lola everything that happened.