About (Harry Styles)

6.

Tomorrow is our last day in London. It literally feels like I was walking to my classes and getting lost yesterday. And even though my plans of finding a British friend didn't happen, I'm still happy with the my time spent here. Especially with the last week. Meeting Niall Horan was such a pleasure ... not the other one whose name we'll not mention.

Marco and I are spending the day eating brunch in a small corner cafe just relaxing and talking. Mostly about our final grades and how above and beyond he did in contrast to how poorly I did. I mean, I didn't do too terribly. When I compare my grades to Einstein here; it makes my grades look like they were from hell.

"So...," I began after he returns with a plate of an English muffin, two pancakes, and a sausage patty. "Has that golfer guy called you yet?"

His lips purse in disappointment as he shakes his head. He takes a sip of his green tea and I cringe.

I hate tea.

"I wasn't expecting a call anyway," he says, his tone clearly upset. He puts on a smile and I feel terrible for pushing this onto him. "I don't know what I was thinking. Professional golfing is not a stable career if you really think about it. I have a better chance of losing to you at Monopoly than becoming a professional golfer."

"That's not true," I refute and he chuckles. "You know how bad I am at that game." There's a short silence while he picks at his food. I want to comfort him, but I've never been really good at that. I want to believe I'm a compassionate person, but I'm not so sure anymore.

When my parents divorced and dad left my mom and I, it was so hard to watch her cry herself to sleep every night. I wanted to comfort her then but I didn't know how to approach it. I was so young then.

She tried her hardest to put on a smile for us but I knew, inside, she was dying. She didn't accept my comfort. She wouldn't allow herself to and I never knew why.

"I shouldn't have pushed you to that dinner," I tell him, and he looks up from his plate. "I planted that seed in your head and I set you up for this .. disappointment."

"El, it's okay. It's not your fault..."

"I know but .. I feel like it is. You know what Marco, you are smart and kind. And you have the world in your hands. You have an infinite choice of careers that you will undoubtedly excel in. You can continue pursuing what you want while still play golf recreationally." I take his hand from over the table and give it a gentle squeeze. He warmly smiles before taking a long breath.

"Thank you, El."

I remove my hand from his so that I can continue working on my sandwich. It's some kind of fish sandwich. It comes with avocado, the sole reason I'm even eating the healthy dish.

Avocado is the bomb. I even got some on the side.

"Has Niall called you?" Marco suddenly asks, making me choke on my food.

My mind fumbles as it tries to grasp Marco's words, confusing my digesting system of whether to swallow, to choke, or to spit out the chunk of sandwich in my mouth.

"What say you?" I ask.

"So he hasn't asked you for your number yet.." He mumbles more to himself than to me.

"What are you talking about? Please, say it clearly. Was he supposed to call me?"

It's only now that I realize my mouth is still full. Quickly chewing my food, the thoughts in my head race as I try to process this information.

"The other night at the party, he asked me for your number."

"He what? Did you give it to him?" My eyes light up. I feel the tears start to well in my eyes. Why am I even crying?!