#You’re nice to me I’ll sobbbbbb

[monicaalexandraaa]

Love this part!!! I really enjoyed how this was set up to learn more background of the story. Can’t wait for more🩷🩷

The Lottery II

Read The Lottery here | ~4.5k words

From me: There is def some fluctuating in the timeline. This part is mostly from Harry's POV and it suggests 6 years passes but that is more relevant for the next couple parts. There are pieces of this that happen shortly after she moves in and some years later. It might be a little hard to tell, but hopefully it won't ruin the story. I'm mostly establishing more background info in these parts. I feel like the real story doesn't begin till part three or even four.

Warnings: angst and fluff. (A new nickname for her!!!)

Summary: She is unbelievably sweet. Which makes Harry nervous because he knows how easy it would be to fall for her. Which he doesn't want.

But why does she have to be so sweet? It's nearly impossible not to fall for her.

“She opened a bookstore. But s’like a library too. The high schoolers go there t’study. And she helps them,” Harry muttered.

“Well yeah... I would too if I was in high school. I looked her up after you talked about her for an hour. Have you even seenher? You didn’t even mention how pretty she was. Why wouldn’t they go there to study? She’s beautiful, kind, intelligent, beautiful, funny, pretty—”

“Alright I get it,” he grumbled.

Louis was always ready to give Harry a hard time. More specifically he was always ready to remind him not to be so grumpy, but it was easier said than done. Harry was still young, and he shouldn’t have been so frustrated all the time. His twenties were supposed to be fun. But he didn’t feel like having fun anymore. He was much too young to be so jaded, but there he was; green, like a sour apple.

The stupid small town was just a reminder of the heartbreak he suffered on more than one front. People he had known his whole life... from when he was a baby, a child, a teen... it just felt like he was suffocating. He loved his town, he did. But it hurt. It was hard to forget about the hurt when everyone looked at him with pity because they knew. No one spoke too loudly, no one tried to upset him. It was miserable. They were trying to be kind because they knew Harry and they knew what he had been through.

Louis was the only one who tried to piss him off intentionally. When Harry let it slip that there was a new girl in town, he quickly did research and was ready to give Harry a hard time about her as well as every other thing he enjoyed pestering him about. “It’s good for you. Everyone tiptoeing around you is just making you angrier.”

When she argued with him that first day... even though it was trivial—just about pancakes—it was refreshing.

But Harry didn’t want to like her. Because he knew himself quite well. He knew the second he started to like her it was going to be a slippery slope to falling in love with her. How could he not? She was everything Louis said: kind, intelligent, beautiful, funny, and sweet... she was a breath of fresh air and Harry hadn’t had a fresh breath in ages.

No. He couldn’t think like that. Slippery slope.

But when she arrived at the diner the second morning and sat in the same spot at the counter as she did the day before—the spot that people had been avoiding for months because it was much too close to Harry—it softened something in the armor around his heart. The way she smiled in greeting even though he didn’t really return it. She ordered one of each pancake again and even though they argued, Harry knew there was no use fighting it. He was willing to do anything to keep that smile on her pretty face.

But they did still argue. Maybe she was trying to save Harry’s grumpy façade in front of his other customers, the people he had known his whole life. Like she was trying to keep up whatever pretense she didn’t even know he was maintaining. “Are you sure I can’t have one peach and one white chocolate chip pancake?” She asked hopefully. When she asked this time it didn’t have the same flare and attitude as the day before. Probably because she knew that she would get both again.

So why was she keeping it a secret?

“No,” he rolled his eyes. “One or the other.”

“White chocolate chip today then,” she sighed.

And Harry made her one of each because it really wasn’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. He was just mad the day before as he always was... and unfortunately, he took it out on her. It seemed like she didn’t even mind. Given she played like she didn’t notice Harry made one of each the day before was merely solidifying how much he liked her. Even though he wasn’t supposed to.

“She doesn’t tiptoe,” Harry mumbled.

“Of course she doesn’t. She doesn’t know,” Louis reminded him. It was hard talking to Louis about this stuff sometimes. It was over a FaceTime call. Because Louis was smart enough to leave the little town and only come back for visits. He wasn’t tied to the feeling in his chest the way Harry was. In a lot of ways Louis was smart. Smarter than Harry. Maybe a genius even. “But Harry, it’s a small town. She’s going to find out.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah... I know.”

But for a few weeks, it would be nice. Not having someone know everything about him.

“Then you’ll be able to tell her you love her.”

Louis was an idiot. Perhaps the dumbest person he knew.

*

It was a couple weeks later that she reached behind the counter for the little plate stacked with sugar and cream. “Hey,” he scowled. “Don’t do that,” he reached for it smacking her hand lightly out of the way.

“Why, it’s right there?”

“Because y’not supposed to!” It was the same argument they had been having since the second time she sat at the counter after her arrival. The first time she reached for the sugar and cream and was subject to Harry’s glare, she put her hands up defensively and let him put the plate next to her.

It seemed small towns didn’t change all that much. Even with a new person around, Harry wasn’t too surprised he was having the same conversation with her weeks later. “It’s literally right there, Harry.” She rolled her eyes and poured an unhealthy amount of sugar into the mug. He grimaced. “What?” She asked defensively. Apparently, he missed when she dumped an entire week’s worth of sugar into her coffee the day before.

“Do y’want coffee with your sugar?”

“I don’t really like hot coffee but if I don’t drink caffeine, I’ll be miserable for the entire day and ruin everyone else’s day too, so it will do,” she explained. Harry felt bad he didn’t have cold coffee for her. It was in his mind to buy a pitcher later that day and keep it for her specifically in the back fridge. No one else would drink cold coffee so it wouldn’t have to be a thing really.

How was it he was already obsessed with her, and he had only spoken with her for twenty minutes at most within the two days? Most of that short time was spent arguing with her too. It was insane. It was unreasonable. Harry was an idiot. A slippery slope of hopelessness.

Harry found it easier to be angrier. Cold. People asked less of him. He didn’t have to explain himself to anyone. Yeah, they tiptoed, but he didn’t have to talk. She looked like she was a talker. Ad nauseum at that. A person who owned a bookstore probably enjoyed talking and wanted to talk. Probably wanted to talk to the person they liked about everything under the sun.

“Did you see the moon last night?” She asked as he walked by. He shook his head of the thoughts of those first couple of days. They replayed often in his head. He was memorizing those first moments, and he didn’t know why... or if even if his subconscious really knew, he didn’t want the rest of his mind to think about it.

Everything under the moon then. He thought to himself. He blinked. “Yes?” He didn’t remember looking up specifically but surely, he saw it.

“It’s so pretty.”

Harry tilted his head at her. It was just the moon. He didn’t see what was particularly special, but he liked the reverence in her voice. How soft she was. “Yeah,” he nodded in agreement because there was no way he could argue with her when she was talking like that.

“I like the moon a lot,” she explained. Definitely a talker. But instead of hurrying to another table, he found himself rooted to the spot where he stood. Waiting for her to continue. “It’s comforting you know? It’s there all the time, even if you can’t see it some nights. You know it’s going to come back and it’s always so pretty. The crescent in the morning when it’s cold is my favorite. Or when the sun is setting in December and the sky is yellow and moon is too.”

Harry watched her. Wondering what made her say all that seemingly for no reason. Before he could ask why or embarrass himself with a declaration of how much he adored her already, she was getting up after placing her napkin over the plate. “Sorry, I have to run; the plumber is coming to set up the bathroom and backroom,” she slung her bag over her shoulder, tucking her notebook inside of it, and pushing in her stool. Right before she turned she smiled so sweetly at Harry it nearly made him blurt something insane like he loved her. “Have a nice day, Harry. I’ll see you later,” she gave a small wave and hurried out the door.

Harry had an intense desire to buy a telescope. But he knew if (when) he did, he was admitting he was fully fucked.

*

Other than breakfast, she didn’t say much most of the time because she was either reading or scribbling in her notebook. The glimpses Harry did see were a bit of a to-do list. Harry didn’t see her all that often unless she was reaching for sugar and cream over the breakfast counter. The storefront that was going to be her bookshop got a sign later that first week and was hung above the entrance door.

The Open Book.

Harry could never. The half-print, half-cursive lettering splayed on an outline of open pages of a wire novel. He assumed she was inside that very story or maybe unpacking her house still (it had been on her to do list since she arrived). It had to be overwhelming to move to a new house and open a new business.

In the few weeks she’d been there, he overheard everyone talking about her meeting with Sutton and how she got him to agree to giving her a designated parking spot out behind the strip of stores for free (so long as she shoveled her own spot and adhered to the no parking rule in the snow).

She was a hard worker. That was obvious. She chatted when people spoke to her, but she was quiet. She didn’t try to force herself on the town.

There was no denying how perfectly she fit in. Within weeks of opening, it was obvious her business was a success. He wondered if it was hard for her to start anew. How many people in her life doubted her? But she didn’t seem to mind if they did. People raved about her little shop. It was exactly what the town needed, and it was like the town needed her too.

“Hi sweetheart!” Alice cheered as she entered the diner. “Harry, she’s here!”

“Jesus, Alice. Embarrass them both why don’t you?”

Harry felt a twinge of a smile on his lips as he heard her laugh but he kept it to himself by staying in the back by the grill. Silently, he paused what he was doing while he tried to hide the overeagerness to see her. He turned to the fridge to grab the pitcher of cold coffee for her. “Did you make me cold coffee?” She asked when he stood in front of her poised to pour her a cup of her favorite coffee.

Today she was wearing a pair of red leggings beneath her colorful tutu. A shirt with the Crayola logo was across her chest and her eyeshadow was multi-colored across her eyes. “Whoa,” he stared at her for a lot longer than he should have.

“Is it too much?” She frowned glancing down at her outfit. “I sent Bailey a picture and she said I looked a bit ridiculous but we’re reading The Day the Crayons Quit and then we’re going to color with the wrong colors; so, I thought it was fitting,” she sighed. Harry poured the coffee over ice and a smirk twitched at his lips.

“S’cute,” he shrugged.

"Really!?" She said excitedly. "Good, I don't want to scare the kids either," she reached for the cream, and he smacked her hand softly before she grabbed it. She rolled her eyes.

“Hey Harry!” Someone called across the room and he left her without answering her cold coffee question. She frowned at her drink wondering why he did something so nice for her again. The pancakes were sweet, the coffee was even sweeter.

She couldn’t believe it. The whispering around town about Harry and his sour attitude ensued shortly after she arrived.

Any cute guys? Bailey texted her the third day she was there.

One. But he’s kinda grumpy. The town is under the impression that he won’t do anything for anybody.

Hard pass. You need a nice bubbly guy like you.

So why was Harry making her special pancakes and coffee? It didn’t match the grumpy persona that everyone described.

“Peach, y’want a muffin today?” He asked quietly while walking by her counter space. She blinked in surprise as he replaced the coffee pot on the burner to keep it warm. She was so confused and surprised she couldn’t even answer. “Y’deaf today?”

“No... I...” She shook her head. “You called me Peach.”

If she wasn’t watching him so closely, she wouldn’t have seen him still ever so briefly while grabbing the cream and sugar to bring to another table. “Uh...” he shook his head. Was this grumpy man blushing? “Y’jus’ order those pancakes so much so... I jus’ kinda...

“Right,” she cleared her throat. “Um... muffin. Yes. Thank you.”

Today was Wednesday which meant she just wanted a blueberry muffin because she was going to be reading to the kids at story time and even though they adored her, it made her nervous and she didn’t want to be nervous on a full stomach. After several minutes (because Harry was always sure to warm it on the grill with ample butter) he returned to the front and placed an apple alongside her muffin before her.

“D’you need help with y’place or shop?” He asked.

“Help?”

“M’jus’ worried ‘bout the pipes,” he explained. And you having hot water or heat in the winter.

“The pipes,” she repeated.

“Yes.”

“The pipes are fine,” she assured him. “Nothing to worry about, there.”

She didn’t tell him the Hollistons replaced them prior to moving out. “S’jus’ getting colder quickly,” he shrugged. “S’a little harder t’get around without a bunch of plows like a city.”

She nodded. “Right, of course,” she tilted her head as Harry continued. Her multi-colored, shiny eyeshadow sparkled and twinkled almost directly at Harry. “I’ll try to make sure an issue happens prior to the first snowfall.”

He rolled his eyes. “Y’bathroom is all set?” He asked.

“All set.”

“What’s next on your to-do list?”

She sliced her apple a bit at a time, a holdover from when she had braces and worried about the skin getting stuck in her brackets—she stared at Harry as he stood in front of her while she ate her slice in silence. She flipped her notebook open to the most recent to-do list. “The windows at the shop need to be replaced. They’re glued shut with paint. A theme in this town I’m assuming because I have several at home that need to be replaced too.”

“I could look at them for you. If y’want. S’a lot of money t’replace ‘em. Could save y’some money if I can jus’ repair them.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Well... that would be lovely. Thank you.”

“I’ll come by after work,” he offered and walked away before he asked to marry her or to live with her.

It seemed like he blinked, and suddenly a half hour had gone by. She was no longer in her seat. Harry frowned at the empty spot as he picked up her empty plate but found a note tucked underneath it, a page pulled from her notebook. Her handwriting was pretty, not quite calligraphy, but not quite print. A half-cursive, half-print script. It made him wonder if she designed her shop’s sign on her own.

Thanks for the offer to help! Sorry I had to leave without saying goodbye. Here’s my number, just give me a ten-minute heads-up when you’re coming over! Have a nice day, Harry :) - Peach

*

On the opening day of her shop, she had homemade muffins on display. It must have taken her ages to make them in her oven. Only a dozen at a time. Harry wished she had asked, and he would have lent his oven to her. Or even offered to help her make them. But why would she ask?

Harry rolled his eyes at her pancake order. And the omelet she wanted. It was half (literally half) cheese and half veggies but only if they were cooked separately. Really it was just two small omelets put near one another. When she explained it two more times, she finally drew a picture of two little rectangles in her notebook with arrows pointing to where the ingredients were supposed to go and slid it across the counter to Harry so he could see what she really meant. “Do y’have a thing against mixing your foods, Peach?”

“It tastes better that way.”

Maybe if Harry wasn’t so grumpy he would have found it a little funnier than he did. Maybe he would have even laughed and not snorted the way he did as he headed to the back kitchen. “Lemme guess. Y’eat milk and cereal separately too.”

She laughed. A gorgeous sound. Like a bird call made specifically for Harry. He shouldn’t have thought that way. She didn’t owe anything to him. She was lovely and sweet—a peach. Harry was sour and undeserving of someone so lovely. “Very funny, Harry.”

As lovely as she was, Harry couldn’t imagine going through the kind of heartbreak he would suffer because of her. It seemed inevitable that it would happen. Harry was too guarded, too grumpy. Louis tried to tell him it didn’t have to be that way, but it wasn’t something he could wrap his head around.

*

For the next several years, that was how their lives connected. Harry would make fun of her meal choices; she would try to steal the cream and sugar from behind the counter. The town loved their little businesses.

On Wednesdays and Fridays, she had story hour for the little ones. Harry had seen her dressed up as princesses, a mouse, and even a caterpillar. In the summer, she was sure to stock the shelves with summer reading books. When students had issues with their schoolwork, they checked in with her after school before emailing their teachers. Before major exams she held review groups and by year five, she had so many flashcards and quiz reviews for them that the principal asked if she would just teach. Teachers gave her the test reviews that were done in class.

But her shop was her pride and joy. Finding a book that a non-reader liked was like Christmas for her. Helping gift the perfect book on behalf of someone else was too. Or ordering a book series that she never would have thought of that was suggested by a little one was one of her favorite moments.

It was an amazing business, and it was almost entirely because of her.

The younger kids flocked to her when she walked through town giving her hugs and telling her all about the sticker chart, they were close to filling out (a five-dollar coupon for any book if they read ten age-level books). The older students went to her for dating advice, university application advice, and her shop was one of the most coveted jobs in town.

Honestly, Harry felt jealous he couldn’t work at The Open Book right along with her.

She worked nearly every day. At least popping in to make sure things ran smoothly. Harry knew the way small businesses worked better than anyone. It was nearly impossible to leave them alone. Even when you trusted another person.

Harry remembered the first day he laid eyes on her. The first day he made a fuss about her pancakes, and he had since lost count of how many pancakes he made for her after six years. On her birthday, he stuck a candle in them. Every spring and fall he cleaned her gutters.

He checked her pipes in the winter, even when she wasn’t home to let him in. “Y’shouldn’t leave your house unlocked,” he reprimanded when she entered her own house unphased by his presence.

“Edith or David are always home, they would call if there was a problem,” she shrugged kicking off her shoes and hanging her jacket up on her coatrack.

“Anyone could just walk in, Peach.”

“Exhibit A?” She gestured to him, and he rolled his eyes. “Do you want some water?” She asked, holding a bottle out to him. “You didn’t have to come check; I would call you if there was a problem.”

"I was over this way," he shrugged taking the water bottle from her.

"Do you want to stay? I'm going to order pizza," she yawned. "I'm too tired to cook."

Harry was terrified if he stayed he would never leave. The invitation wasn't that serious but it felt like it was. "M'good."

"Well then it's your fault when I eat an entire pizza on my onw."

He smirked, rolling his eyes. "Y'sure?" He asked.

"I'll even order a salad," she smiled sweetly. "Thank you for looking at the pipes."

"They look like they were replaced."

She shrugged. "Maybe the Holliston's replaced them," she suggested pulling out the pamphlet for the nearby pizza place from the drawer in her kitchen. Harry frowned. He wouldn't need to come check on them in the winter and that kind of saddened him. "I'm a plain person," Harry thought she was anything but plain. "I like cheese pizza. Do you want anything on yours?"

"I like peppers and onions...but y'don't have to--"

"That sounds yummy. I might try a slice," she smiled and dialed on her phone. "Could you look at my bathroom sink? The facet kind of leaks," she explained while skimming over the menu again. "Hi could I place an order for pick up?" She asked and walked toward the living room with a basket of laundry on one hip.

Harry felt it was a little too domestic, but he liked it way more than he could admit.

Louis was going to love it.

*

When it snowed, he shoveled her parking spot and cleared the store front walkway before he cleared his own. She thanked him profusely when he arrived at her house. But she wasn't actually at her house. There were footsteps leading from her own driveway, un-shoveled, because she was next door at Edith and David’s being sweet and kind to the elderly couple with inches of snow on the ground. Harry hurried after her, there to help.

They worked in silence scooping snow out of the way from front step to car and the rest of the driveway. “Where do Alice and Ed live?” She asked him to pause for a short break while shoveling.

“Uh... across town. On Second Street.”

She frowned. “Do they have neighbors to help shovel?” She asked.

“They’ll be fine, Peach.”

“But people over the age of forty-five aren’t supposed to shovel. They could have a heart attack,” she explained, and Harry could hear the worry in her voice for an elderly couple she hardly knew.

Harry sighed, looking at the too sweet girl for her own good. “We can go there next, love,” he assured her.

“We?”

“I can shovel ‘em out myself if y’have something t’do,” he shrugged.

“No... no, it was my idea. But why?”

Harry swallowed feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions pulse through him. Happy, sad, nervous, everything. It was like each one was battling for dominance and he willed tears to stay away from his eyes. He wasn’t going to confess his love to her, he knew that. But it kind of felt like he wanted to.

But was it even love? They never really talked. He knew surface level things about her and knew how lovely she was sure. But was that enough to be in love? Harry wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to love her. It was a terrible idea to love someone in this too small-town.

“Y’jus’ really nice, Peach. I want t’make sure you’re okay. You’re nice t’me. M’not the sunniest person. Y’never seem t’mind,” he explained and continued shoveling as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

She was watching him as he continued, unable to move. “You’re nice too, Harry,” she promised. “I see it in everything you do for this town. All the little things. I know you replace the lightbulbs on the streetlights because Sutton is too lazy to hire someone. I know you donated money to the high school baseball team for new uniforms. I know you love this town quietly even if you don’t want to for whatever reason. I hope you tell me some time.”

He ignored her little rant because if Harry hadn’t spent the last few years building up blockers and blinders to those kinds of sweet things he would have been a mess of tears at her words.

She gave his arm a squeeze when they finished Edith and David’s driveway. “Thanks for helping. Are you sure you want to help with Alice and Ed’s? I could do it myself. I just need a ride since my car is blocked in. We can shovel mine later. If you don’t mind of course.”

He appreciated her not bringing up how he loved the town. “I don’t mind, Peach,” he promised.

She grinned and looked up at the sky. It had stopped snowing a while ago and the sky was bright blue. “Look how pretty the moon is,” she chirped pointing up. Harry nodded, watching her happy smile and astonished eyes like it was the first time she had ever seen the moon.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It really is.”

--

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