Dear Scarlett
Chapter 4
Scarlett's POV
I crossed my arms over the table, taking a sip of my ice tea as I grew more and more impatient with the passing second. Where is he, he should be here? Yesterday the waitress seemed to know him, meaning he's a regular, right? I mean, what else could it mean?
I looked down at my journal on the table, skimming through the pages. I didn't have anything to write yet, and even if I did, I don't have a writing utensil, which is pretty ironic, since I'm coming from school (ditching, actually). That's part of the reason I'm wearing a hood and sunglass, so no one will notice me and realize I'm supposed to be in school right now. I could always say something like I'm home schooled or whatever, but I seriously don't feel like lying to the cops right now or anytime soon for that matter.
As I closed my journal, I accidently knocked over my drink. I silently let out a sigh of relief since there wasn't much in the drink left to spill. There were only a couple drops spilled on the table, so I quickly went to grab some napkins, knocking into someone on my way, making my hoodie drop of my head, revealing my face. I looked up, angered by the man who had bumped into me (even though part of it was my fault), but soon my glare softened as I realized it was the boy I was looking for. I would have stayed behind, flirted perhaps, flipped my hair and all, but I saw a cop entering the cafe, so instead, I started panicking and fast walked to the exit, but not before looking back and giving the guy a dazzling smile, knowing now I knew for sure he was a regular here.
Zayn's POV
It was her, I just know it was. The same ginger hair, the same green eyes. she had left much too early, but that smile she left me with was enough to make my knees go weak. I looked at the direction she had come from, noticing a table with a journal on top, with a few drops of a drink spilled on the table, probably the reason she had napkins in her hand. I approached the table, sitting on the chair next to it as I eyed the journal. Should I take it. If I did, I might be able to meet her again. No, as a person who keeps a journal myself, I would hate it if someone got a hold of my journal. What to do...
Scarlett's POV
I proudly began walking back home, cleaning my hands with the napkins.
Wait, what?
No, no, no, no, no....
This couldn't be happening. I wasn't far from the cafe yet, if I ran, I might make it.
But it was too late, and to my dismay, the cop was there, but the boy wasn't, and neither was my journal.
I crossed my arms over the table, taking a sip of my ice tea as I grew more and more impatient with the passing second. Where is he, he should be here? Yesterday the waitress seemed to know him, meaning he's a regular, right? I mean, what else could it mean?
I looked down at my journal on the table, skimming through the pages. I didn't have anything to write yet, and even if I did, I don't have a writing utensil, which is pretty ironic, since I'm coming from school (ditching, actually). That's part of the reason I'm wearing a hood and sunglass, so no one will notice me and realize I'm supposed to be in school right now. I could always say something like I'm home schooled or whatever, but I seriously don't feel like lying to the cops right now or anytime soon for that matter.
As I closed my journal, I accidently knocked over my drink. I silently let out a sigh of relief since there wasn't much in the drink left to spill. There were only a couple drops spilled on the table, so I quickly went to grab some napkins, knocking into someone on my way, making my hoodie drop of my head, revealing my face. I looked up, angered by the man who had bumped into me (even though part of it was my fault), but soon my glare softened as I realized it was the boy I was looking for. I would have stayed behind, flirted perhaps, flipped my hair and all, but I saw a cop entering the cafe, so instead, I started panicking and fast walked to the exit, but not before looking back and giving the guy a dazzling smile, knowing now I knew for sure he was a regular here.
Zayn's POV
It was her, I just know it was. The same ginger hair, the same green eyes. she had left much too early, but that smile she left me with was enough to make my knees go weak. I looked at the direction she had come from, noticing a table with a journal on top, with a few drops of a drink spilled on the table, probably the reason she had napkins in her hand. I approached the table, sitting on the chair next to it as I eyed the journal. Should I take it. If I did, I might be able to meet her again. No, as a person who keeps a journal myself, I would hate it if someone got a hold of my journal. What to do...
Scarlett's POV
I proudly began walking back home, cleaning my hands with the napkins.
Wait, what?
No, no, no, no, no....
This couldn't be happening. I wasn't far from the cafe yet, if I ran, I might make it.
But it was too late, and to my dismay, the cop was there, but the boy wasn't, and neither was my journal.
Notes
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@HarryStylesLetMeSaveYou
your welcome! u deserve itt x
3/16/14