~Harry~

I walked outside, only to be met with the bright sunlight. It heated me up, and I mentally cursed myself for wearing all black today. I tried to pry my skinny jeans off of my legs; they were sticking now, but it was no use. Holding my hand up to my face and squinting, I padded down the steps, deciding to go for a walk.

I hadn’t seen Cassidy in a few days—three to be exact. I just kept on replaying that last kiss we’d shared over and over in my head. Nothing could distract me from it.

I heard a laugh coming from my left and looked over, finding Mr. and Mrs. Jansen one house down.

They were dressed in gardening clothes, Mrs. Jansen wearing an apron and gloves and holding a small, tiny shovel; Mr. Jansen was wearing a straw hat and gloves as well, gripping a bag, no doubt filled with soil.

Abandoning my walk, I sauntered over the lawn and towards them. Mrs. Jansen noticed me first and broke into a wide smile, “Oh, Harry dear! How are you?”

“I’m quite alright, thank you,” I shot her a charming smile, “And yourself?”

Mrs. Jansen just kept on beaming, and she nudged her husband, “Oh, we’re great, thanks. Just doing some gardening. The storm wrecked all of our plants, you know.”

“That’s too bad,” I said, and then slipped my hands into my pockets, “I could help you, if you wanted.”

“Really?” she asked hopefully, looking ecstatic. I couldn’t help but to smile and nod, and she quickly turned away, hobbling back up the steps and inside, insisting that she’d get me a pair of gloves. I was left outside with Mr. Jansen, a few more bags of soil, several packets of seeds, and gardening tools.

“So Harry,” Mr. Jansen cleared his throat, “How’re those swim sessions with Cassidy going?”

At the mention of Cassidy, I tensed but forced myself to calm down. I kicked at the ground lightly while he ripped open the bag of soil and began to pour the contents into the flower bed.

“It’s alright,” I said simply, “She’s a great teacher.”

Of course, I didn’t actually know that all too well, since all we’d done was fight, annoy each other, and occasionally kiss. I shook my head, willing my brain to release those thoughts; I couldn’t afford to get distracted by her right now.

“You’re a year older than her, are you not?” Mr. Jansen questioned, setting the soil bag down and standing up straight, dusting off his hands, even thought they were clad in gloves.

I nodded again, my face turning into a mask of confusion, “Yes, why?”

“No reason,” he shrugged, and then smiled at me. I returned it nervously. Just then, Mrs. Jansen emerged again, for which I was grateful. She teetered down the steps, waving around a pair of gloves in her left hand.

“Here you are, dear,” she gushed, slightly breathless, “Sorry I took so long. James, the gloves were not in the kitchen, darling,” she stared pointedly at her husband as she said that last part, and he just chuckled lowly, placing his hands on his hips and squinting in the bright sunlight, even though he wore a hat.

“I’m sorry, dear,” he apologized, smiling, “You know I’m getting old.”

Mrs. Jansen laughed lightly, making me smile, before she clapped her hands, “Well, these plants won’t prepare themselves! Harry, slip on your gloves. You can help me with scattering the seeds.”

“No problem,” I grinned at her as she bent down and picked up two seed packets. She handed me one, and I read on the label that they were calla lily seeds. Mrs. Jansen held up a pack of sunflower seeds, and she turned towards the flower bed, pointing at the far side of the dugout.

“You can plant the calla lilies over there,” she told me, referring to the right side, “The sunflowers will grow on the left side, and I’m going to plant roses in the middle,” she nudged another packet that was lying on the ground with her foot—the rose seeds, I was assuming.

“Alright,” I shrugged, and she looked at me, “You’re in an awfully good mood today.”

I couldn’t help but to smile, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she noted, walking over to her side and picking out a handful of seeds from the packet, sprinkling them into the mulch that her husband had just poured, “I don’t know how to explain it. You’re just smiling a lot more now. What’s going on, dear?”

“Nothing, Mrs. Jansen,” I told her, laughing at how cute the situation was, even though I was lying, “I’m no different than any other day.”

I imitated her, scattering calla lily seeds into the right side of the flower bed. Once I was finished, I fell to my knees, patting down the dirt and making sure that the seeds were nicely buried in the ground.

“I’m not so sure,” she said playfully, but she actually looked like she was trying to analyze the reason for which I was smiling.

Suddenly, her eyes widened, “It’s a girl, isn’t it!” she exclaimed, and I marvelled at how she was exactly right. Of course, I wouldn’t tell her that.

“No, Mrs. Jansen,” I said, laughing again.

She cocked an eyebrow, reaching for the watering can on the ground and dipping it, so that water poured out the spout, dampening the ground where the seeds were concealed. I continued to cover my own seeds with mulch.

“A girl?” Mr. Jansen butted in, surprising me. I’d momentarily forgotten he was even here—he was so quiet.

“It’s really not, sir,” I explained to him, but he was exactly like his wife, grinning expectantly at me, acting like immature ten-year-olds.

“We may be old, son,” Mr. Jansen began, “But we know love just as much as the next people.”

“Love?” I gaped before shaking my head, suddenly very interested in the hard ground pressing into the knees of my jeans, “It’s not love. It’s barely like! There is no girl, Mr. and Mrs. Jansen.”

“I don’t think he’s being honest James, do you?” Mrs. Jansen nudged her husband, a small smirk playing on her lips. He just let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head and agreeing with her.

I rolled my eyes playfully and smiled, acting annoyed, even though I wasn’t, “I’m being one hundred percent honest, trust me.”

“Oh Harry dear,” Mrs. Jansen laughed, waving away my protests, and she and her husband laughed heartily, “We’re just teasing you, don’t worry.”

I sighed with relief, hoping that we’d be moving onto a different topic now. All this talk about a girl made me uneasy, like I was going to slip up sooner or later. Not to mention that it had only brought my mind back to square one: Cassidy. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and having the Jansens question me about her just made me even more attached.

It scared me. I’d never felt this way about someone. She didn’t realise that all of the new feelings that she was going through were plaguing me too. I was just as new to this as she was. I didn’t genuinely like girls and I hadn’t in quite a while. It was an odd feeling to have resurfaced, and I wanted to tell her, but she already thought I was a womanizer, and I didn’t want to prove her right.

“You alright, son?” Mr. Jansen snapped me out of my thoughts.

I blinked once, focussing back on him and his wife, and shot them a small smile, “I’m fine, sorry. Just got carried away.”

Mrs. Jansen let out a tinkling laugh, and suddenly, I heard the sound of a door slamming behind me. I peered over my shoulder, only to find Cassidy hopping down her steps. My mouth immediately went dry. She was wearing a gray, spaghetti-strap tank top and short jean shorts. Her white flip flops had been slipped on, and her hair was tied in a high ponytail. Her swim bag was slung across her body.

“Cassidy, dear!” Mrs. Jansen called out, and she turned to us, breaking into a small smile when she perceived the elderly couple.

Then her eyes landed on me, and her smile faltered slightly. I looked away, trying not to let it sting too much.

“Where are you off to?” Mr. Jansen questioned, beckoning her over.

She jogged over, grinning at him, “Hi, guys. I was going to see if I could sneak in a few laps at the pool, you know, just for fun.”

The Jansens nodded eagerly, and Cassidy continued, “This looks much more fun though,” she noted, staring down at the flower bed, where the seeds had been planted. My heart somersaulted, hoping that she would offer to help, just so that I could be near her.

What the fuck?

“Would you like some help?” she asked, and I looked away, trying to conceal a wide smile. Kneeling back down on the ground, I continued to pat down the dirt, reaching for the watering can and tipping it over, wetting the ground.

“Oh, that would be lovely!” Mrs. Jansen gushed, and she nudged her husband’s arm lightly, “James, this time you’re going to get the gardening gloves.”

Mr. Jansen chuckled lowly, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, “Of course, my darling.” He then proceeded to lumber up the steps and disappear inside.

“He’ll be back in just a moment, dear,” Mrs. Jansen explained, “I’m going to need your help planting the roses. They go in the middle, right here. Harry—,” she looked over at me, and my head snapped up, “Hm?”

“You’re finished with the calla lilies, aren’t you dear? Could you help Cassidy finish off with the roses?”

I cleared my throat, nodding, “Of course.”

Mrs. Jansen beamed at me while Cassidy set her swim bag down on the ground, kneeling beside me and reaching for a small shovel. She began to dig out small holes in the middle of the flower bed, indicating where the rose seeds would be scattered. Mrs. Jansen went back to finishing up with the sunflowers, humming to herself.

Cassidy and I worked in silence, kneeling beside each other for a few moments before she nudged my shoulder. Surprised at the fact that she was initiating the conversation, I looked over at her with a confused expression, making her smile lightly, “Hi, Harry.”

“Oh,” I’m pretty sure my eyes almost bugged out of my head; she was so damn beautiful, “Erm, hi.”

She silently laughed, looking back down at the dirt and smiling to herself. I couldn’t help but to smirk as well; I didn’t see her smile very often, but when she did, it was contagious, and I couldn’t help but to imitate her. Simply being around her made me feel glorious, like I could do anything; and it was often hard to keep my lips from curving up.

She picked up the now empty calla lily seed packet lying beside me, her fingers accidentally brushing against my knee, making jolts run through my body. I watched her from the corner of my eye as she held the small bag up, studying it.

She turned to me, “These are my favourite, you know.”

I looked over at her, watching how her brown eyes sparkled lightly as she observed me continue to bury the seeds into the ground. I was pretty sure that I had finished; I just needed something to do with my hands, and excessive patting seemed to be the answer. The gloves adorning my hands were now dirty and slightly damp from the moisture of the ground.

“Yeah?” I asked, suddenly interested, “Why?”

She shrugged, “I don’t know. I can’t exactly explain it.”

She smirked lightly and set the package back down, and finally, Mr. Jansen re-emerged from the house, holding yet another pair of green gloves.

He padded down the steps of the porch and walked over to us, holding them out to Cassidy, “Sorry, my dear. I had to go all the way down to the basement.”

“It’s no problem, Mr. Jansen,” Cassidy smiled up at him, sliding the gloves on. She flexed her fingers once—no doubt to get used to the sensation—and then reached for the rose seeds, digging her hand in and sprinkling them inside the small trenches she’d created.

Mrs. Jansen watched us with an amused smile, before sighing and pulling off her gloves, dropping them onto the floor, “Well, I think I’m going to go make us all some lemonade. James, would you help me, darling?”

“What?” Mr. Jansen seemed confused, but when his wife shot him a look, he nodded, “Oh, of course. We’ll be inside.”

Without another word, the elderly couple set down all of their things and hurried up the steps, disappearing through the door, leaving us alone. Cassidy didn’t say anything, simply continuing to toss the seeds to meet the ground, and finally, I grew a pair of balls and cleared my throat.

“Do you think they...?” I questioned.

“Oh yeah,” she replied, not even looking at me or missing a beat.

I couldn’t help it; I cracked up, starting to laugh. Something about the situation was just so awkwardly funny, what with the Jansens trying to think that they were arranging our own date for us, or something. Cassidy looked over at me, laughing as well, but she was staring at me as though I was crazy. I just kept chuckling.

After I stopped, we were back to the awkward silence. I was desperate to break it again, so I asked, “You almost done?” I craned my neck, careful not to get too close to her.

“I still have to water them, Harry,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully, and I reached for the watering can, handing it to her.

“Here,” I said.

“Thanks,” she told me as she grabbed it. Our gloved hands brushed, and even though it wasn’t actual skin-on-skin contact, I still felt a small shock. Her eyes widened, so I could only assume that she felt it too, but I was too nervous to ask.

“You know,” I began, itching for anything to say, “There are over one hundred species of roses.”

I immediately mentally face-palmed. Seriously, that was the best I could come up with? I really needed to work on my small-talk abilities.

She looked over at me, the corners of her mouth lifting in an amused smirk, “Yeah?” she questioned, evidently realising that I was struggling over here, “That’s pretty cool. Which one is your favourite?”

I shrugged, grateful that she was at least trying to help me out here; Lord knows I needed it. “Like I said: there’re over one hundred different kinds. I can’t pick from that many.”

She laughed, and I couldn’t help but to smile, happy that I could make her emit such a beautiful sound. I really wanted to kiss her, but she’d said that she needed to think things through, and I didn’t want to force her into anything or rush her, because that would simply ruin any chances I would’ve had.

“So you’re indecisive then?” she inquired, clearly teasing me. I think this was the longest conversation we’d ever had in which she hadn’t sworn once yet.

Progress, progress.

“I guess I am,” I rubbed the nape of my neck sheepishly, moving my hair out of the way. It was getting really long.

As if she’d read my mind, her gaze flickered to my hair, “You have really long hair,” she noted, catching me a bit by surprise.

I bit my lip lightly, not knowing how to respond, so I just shrugged and ran my fingers through it, “Um, yeah.”

“Seriously,” she said, and she moved closer, as if the topic actually intrigued her, “Like, it’s going to be longer than mine soon.”

She chuckled lightly and brought her hands up, pulling off the glove that covered her right hand and letting it drop onto the ground. Without another word, she reached out and began playing with the small baby hairs on the nape of my neck, leaning forward, a respectable distance still between our bodies. I wanted to crush that distance, but forced myself to stay rooted to the spot.

She tugged on the curls behind my ear lightly, and my eyes widened; it felt good to have her do that and I was trying really hard right now to control the blood rushing to my crotch. She evidently realised what she seemed to be doing, and her eyes widened as well.

Her hand disappeared from my hair, back at her side, and I swallowed lightly.

She smiled sheepishly at me, “Sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

“It’s okay,” I assured her, meaning it. It really was okay. I didn’t mind at all, and I would’ve preferably liked to have her yanking on my hair under very different circumstances.

“I guess I just got carried away,” she admitted, letting out a dry laugh. Just then, Mrs. Jansen appeared at the door, “Cassidy, Harry! Lemonade’s ready!”

Cassidy turned to me, giving me a look that I couldn’t read, no matter how hard I tried. After a moment, she cleared her throat, “I guess we should go,” she said, before pushing back onto her heels and standing up, grabbing her swim bag from the ground.

I watched her jog up the steps before shaking out my hair, still trying to analyze that look she’d given me. She was so confusing, so unpredictable, yet I loved it.

I stood and followed her inside.

Notes

Cutish chapter, no? ;)

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So I've got a total of three tests an two projects this week and next week. I won't have any time to update :( I feel really bad guys, I'm sorry. Hopefully I'll be able to update by the end of next week. Please bear with me til then.

Random fact: A group of toads is called a 'knot'.

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