Chapter sixty-seven

Believe it or not, time freezes when you're about to be helplessly caught. It's the deer in headlights moment we all wait for when we text under our desks in class, watch YouTube under the sheets past bedtime, eavesdrop on conversations you shouldn't be eavesdropping on. Your limbs stiffen, your eyes widen, and there's a throbbing ache in your heart, and it's screaming at you, Something's not right.

I am done for. Either I took a wrong step or this girl has bionic ears. I expect the worst.

But the murmurings don't stop like I expect them to, and I open my eyes, still terrified that she saw me. When I can finally just hear their chatter over the pounding of my heart in my ears, I carefully release the breath I'm holding, shrugging my shoulders. I feel sweat in my palms. I'm tempted to take off the jacket, let some air in to cool me off, but it might serve as good cover if I have to run, and hopefully, I won't have to.

I tune in to their conversation, listening intently. It seems that I've missed a lot though, because neither of them are speaking anymore. Luckily, a deep voice carries through the misty morning air, and when it hits me, I know it's Harry Evans'.

"I honestly don't know what to do now, Al," he mutters, sounding frustrated. "I really stuffed up my chances."

I squint in confusion. I don't know what he's talking about, having missed some sort of chance, but I had a feeling it had something to do with last night. With… me?

The girl's voice matches that of a siren's. It's lilting and flowy, and that makes me even more angry. There's a reason he's talking to her and not me, but it may not be just her voice. I slowly let my head turn and peek out behind the white pillar. She shrugs slowly, leaning back to stretch against the railing, like a cat, before leaning on one foot. Her figure is attractive, model-like, and I suddenly feel very hot-headed and furious. Somehow, more angry with her than with Harry.

"From what you've said, I don't think I can deny that," the girl called Al replies lightheartedly. "But that doesn't mean all is lost." She sounds like some fairy godmother out of a fairytale, and the thought that Harry would like her more than, well, me, or any other girl, is really infuriating. Also, what is lost? And why is he so open with her about his mistakes? Who is she to him?

Despite Al's reassuring words, Harry completely disregards her and continues. "I mean, things were going well. Last night…" Al glances at Harry, he seems to recoil a little. "I don't know, things between us seemed so natural. It was… supposed to be okay. Last night would've been a success if it weren't for –" Harry's speaking ceases. He wasn't supposed to say that. He seems to tell Al everything, but this became too much.

Al clears her throat. "If it weren't for what, Harry?" When he flicks his head away and doesn't reply, I can't see properly but I know there's a blush spreading over his face, and I can feel more heat rising to my cheeks too. He's referring to the kiss, and… me. But why is he talking to another girl about me? It's clear he knows who this Al is, but the fact that he knows her is not a comfort whatsoever. The long glances between them are enough for anyone to judge; they are close. My thoughts are interrupted. "You still haven't told me why last night was such a failure." There is a pause.

"I just… threw away my shot. And this mistake, well, it's gonna set us back."

Set you back from what?

Al is chuckling after that, and I'm as confused as Harry is.

"What?"

"Oh, I can see right through you."

"Huh?" There's a pause, where I'm guessing Al gives him a raised eyebrow. "Really, Al. I'm actually serious about this and you're just laughing –"

"You like her."

If my heart had legs, it would've just tripped over and fallen off of a cliff. I shouldn't be here. Why am I here? I could be sleeping soundly in my bed, buried under the mounds of luxurious comfort and warmth, thinking about the sun and the sea and the sand. And maybe even of Harry, smiling brightly at me, happy with everything I say. But the fact that I could know right now what is going on keeps me rooted stubbornly to my hiding spot behind this beam.

"Don't be –"

"Don't lie to me."

"Ally –"

"I knew this was coming. I knew this would happen." To my surprise, her voice isn't angry. In fact, she seems to be even chirpier than before, something that I find even more annoying. "How do you think you're going to –"

"I'm gonna go now."

I freeze. I internally beg Harry to take the other door, not storm down this corridor and find me crouched stupidly here. Luckily, I hear the other door sound, and I breathe a small sigh of relief.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me that everything is going to be okay." This time her voice is more urgent. I don't know what they mean. I have no idea what or who they are referring to. And I'd rather not know.

I close my eyes and I can see Harry's furrowed brows and wavy brown hair dangling over his eyes. "It's going to be okay."

"You're sure?"

"I'll do my job. I just… need to get my act together."

"You sure do."

There's another pause, but Harry finally speaks.

"I wish you were more helpful."