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it, because I will have loved her.
    Sighing, I sit down, my gaze on the front door. She’ll be here any minute, I tell myself. It’s both a terrifying and exhilarating feeling: that I could look up any second now and lay eyes on the girl I’ve been falling for all these months. My hands have not stopped trembling, and as I sit there and stare, it’s all I can do not to imagine what will happen when I see her. Will everything go in slow motion like in the movies? Will her face light up when she sees me? Will she run at me and jump into my arms, or just awkwardly walk over, nod, and sit down? And what exactly am I going to say to her, anyway? “Oh hey Harper, you’ve never even met me before in real life but I’m in love with you and will you marry and while we’re at it, let’s have kids together!” does not sound like the greatest plan. Then of course my back-up plan is, “uh… hi,” which also is not very smooth.
    I close my eyes. God, what am I even doing here? It’s so much easier to talk through the internet than in real life. She’ll immediately realize what a freak I am and then I can kiss goodbye to all hope that I’ll ever be with her.
    Gaaah. Was this a mistake? Did I rush it? No , I tell myself. She suggested meeting up. Not you. Clearly she’s interested. I take yet another breath. Okay. It’s okay.
    After a while I lean back in my chair, listening to the sounds of the couple to my right, who are now done feeding each other marshmallows and have moved on to whispering into each other’s ears and kissing rather passionately for a coffee shop. It’s like they’re trying to taunt me about being here alone. Without Harper.
    I shift my gaze to my left, where a cashier snores softly on the counter. The whole place is painfully quiet.
    I just want Harper to get here.
    The thing is, I’ve never seen her before and I’m therefore not entirely sure how I’ll recognize her, but I have this gut feeling that I’ll know who she is the moment I lay eyes on her. I’ll know she’s my Harper, the one who I can’t get out of my head, the one who I don’t want to get out of my head. The one who, all this time, I’ve been falling in love with.
    I wait.
    My eyes stay glued to the door for several more minutes, but there’s still no sign of Harper. After a while longer I pull out my phone and start wasting my time on random apps and memes, as well as by constantly refreshing my vlog page for no real reason. Where is Harper? She didn’t strike me as someone to be late to something like this.
    Finally, forty minutes after she was supposed to get here , when I’m just about ready to call it quits and leave, she messages me through our chatroom.
    Hey Sam,
    Sorry I couldn’t make it. Something came up. I feel like an asshole, because I still DO want to meet. Can we try again? Tomorrow maybe? Ugh, still so sorry for not being there. I’m an idiot.
     
    My heart sinks a little further as I read it. I close my eyes, the defeat slipping in. I feel like a pouty five year old thinking this, but I want her here now .
    Yeah sure… I write. Okay. Tomorrow. Same time/place?
    Yes! I seriously feel terrible for leaving you. I hope you weren’t waiting too long. Tomorrow, yes. I’ll be there. PROMISE.
    With the Chewbacca glasses?
    Hell yes with the Chewbacca glasses. How could you doubt me? Also, I think next time we need to wear something so we each stand out to each other… How about I wear a “I <3 Sam Green” shirt?
    Yesss! And I’ll have on a custom-made “Harper Knight Is Cooler Than Pizza-Eating Cows” shirt.
    And by custom-made I assume you mean made with markers from your house?
    Of course.
    I would expect no less.
    They’ll be badass marker drawings, obviously.
    Wait, really?
    *waggles brows* Really.
    Good. I should never have doubted you.
    That is true. Now, promise to bring your self tomorrow, too, k?
    Of course. Prepare to be blown away by my drop-dead good looks.
    Oh believe me, I am prepared,