Ground Control ≫ h.s. ✓

epilogue

One Month Later

Amelia

"I can't believe you convinced me to do this," I say through my teeth.

"Play nice and let the parents take their pictures," Harry mumbles low enough that only I can hear it, planting a quick kiss on the back of my head. Another flash from a camera tells me someone caught the adorable moment on film, and I force myself to smile.

My father sees through the effort and places a hand on my mother's shoulder. "Alright, I think we have enough photos to fill an exhibit."

"Jack is probably right," Harry's father agrees, lowering his own camera.

"I'm sorry, I just never thought Amelia would attend a high school dance unless her life depended on it, so I'm a little excited," my mother says.

The term 'excitement' didn't exactly cover what my mother was feeling right now. When I told her about the grand display Harry had put together to ask me to homecoming last week, all she'd been able to talk about was the dance and how we had to go dress shopping and she would start searching Pinterest immediately for the perfect makeup look. I swear, if my mother could go instead, she would.

I admit that the last thing I saw coming in my life was my feelings for Harry. They washed over me and took over my every emotion, my whole heart when I realized them, and - dare I say it - were stronger than anything I ever felt for Michael.

I wanted to ignore them, at first. I did ignore them, at first. I chalked it up to the idea that I felt this way because of his heroic act that had, indeed, gotten him into the local newspaper. I can still remember the joy on his face when he sauntered into my hospital room the day after I woke up and dropped the damn thing on my lap with the article already open. The smug bastard couldn't even let me enjoy my first actual meal after being tube fed for an entire day.

It wasn't until a week later that I seriously considered what I was feeling. We were just sitting in our last period, and Harry had had a rough night with studying for a test. He came to school in a hoodie and sweatpants and flip flops - shoes he must have dug up from the deepest, darkest corner of his closet. He'd looked at me as soon as we sat down, motioned for me to be quiet, and pulled his hoodie over his head then removed a pair of sunglasses from the pocket. He put them on and crossed his arms over his desk to use them as a pillow for his head, unable to make it through another hour and a half without sleeping.

There was something kind of adorable about how he slept that made my heart nearly burst. It seems his own feelings weren't far off in development, because he texted me and asked me on a date that weekend, then asked me to homecoming the week after that. Now here we were; I was all dolled up to attend a dance I never saw in my future - not that I'd pictured a future for me for very long - and Harry was my date.

"You know, you're kind of hot in a tux," I tell him after he's settled into the driver's seat of the car.

"And you're very beautiful in a dress," he replies, one corner of his mouth tilting up to show me the smile I loved. I can't help but smile back. "Ready?" He asks, already shifting the car into reverse.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I say, making Harry chuckle.

I wonder if ground control has any books about this one.

THE END.