More Than Just Notes

Chapter 7 – The Apology Pizza

Olivia had never felt more out of her depth than she did standing outside Harper’s apartment clutching a pizza box. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, staring at the faded numbers on the door. What was she even doing here? Delivering pizza as an apology? She’d agonized over text drafts for hours before deciding this was easier—or at least slightly less humiliating.

She took a deep breath, summoning what little courage she had, and knocked.

Seconds passed. She heard shuffling inside—Harper’s unmistakable scuffle across the floor—and then the door swung open. Harper stood there, blinking at Olivia with her hazel eyes and wearing the world's most ridiculous sweatshirt. It had a cartoon dinosaur on it, complete with the caption: *I’m Rex-tra Tired!*

Olivia couldn’t help but laugh, and Harper grinned back. “Okay, two questions. One: What’s up? And two: Why do you look like you’re about to pass out?”

Olivia held up the pizza box like it was some kind of shield. “Peace offering,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “Pepperoni on one side, pineapple on the other.”

Harper snorted as she remembered what she brought the other time. She stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in. “You know me too well.”

The apartment was as cozy as Olivia remembered—piles of sketchbooks stacked precariously on the coffee table, art supplies scattered on the desk, and fairy lights tangled around the window frame. Harper flopped onto the couch, folding her legs under her and patting the seat beside her. Olivia hesitated before sitting down, setting the pizza box between them.

“So,” Harper began, her tone casual but teasing. “Is this just a friendly pizza visit, or am I about to get an emotional monologue?”

Olivia groaned, already regretting her choice of words. “It’s... not *that* emotional.”

Harper raised an eyebrow. “You literally just called it a ‘peace offering.’ I feel like I’m in the middle of a diplomatic negotiation.”

Olivia rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. “Fine. Maybe it *is* a bit emotional. I... I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Harper’s teasing grin softened into something warmer. “For what?”

“For everything,” Olivia said, her voice quieter now. “For shutting you out. For being scared. For making things weird between us.”

Harper reached for a slice of pizza, taking a bite as she considered her response. “You didn’t make things weird,” she said finally, her tone gentle. “You were figuring stuff out. That’s okay.”

Olivia shook her head, frustration bubbling under her skin. “No, it’s not. You deserve better than that.”

“Olivia,” Harper said, her voice steady but soft. “I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be *you*. And yeah, sometimes that means things get messy, but messy isn’t bad.”

Olivia blinked, caught off guard. “How do you do that?”

Harper tilted her head, confused. “Do what?”

“Say stuff like that and make it sound so... simple,” Olivia said, her chest tightening with a mix of awe and embarrassment. “Like you don’t even have to think about it.”

Harper laughed, the sound warm and light. “Trust me, I think about it. A lot. Probably more than I should.”

Olivia smiled, feeling the tension in her shoulders begin to ease. She reached for her own slice of pizza, nibbling at the crust as Harper grabbed her sketchbook and flipped to a blank page.

“Alright,” Harper said, her tone playful now. “Time for a mandatory fun activity.”

“Mandatory fun?” Olivia echoed, raising an eyebrow. “That sounds like an oxymoron.”

“Shh,” Harper said, grinning. “I’m drawing us as superheroes. You’re Teal Notebook Girl, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes but smiling.

“And I’m Sketchbook Girl,” Harper continued, sketching furiously. “Your sidekick-s***h-secret weapon.”

“Wait, why am I the superhero and you’re the sidekick?” Olivia asked, leaning over to watch the sketch take shape.

“Because you’ve got big main character energy,” Harper said matter-of-factly. “I’m just here to provide comic relief.”

Olivia laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I think you’re selling yourself short.”

Harper glanced at her, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Okay, fine. Maybe we’re a duo. Equal partners in crime.”

“Better,” Olivia said, smirking.

As Harper drew, Olivia relaxed into the rhythm of their banter, the pizza quickly disappearing between them. Harper’s sketches were ridiculous—Olivia’s superhero alter ego had a cape made entirely of loose-leaf notebook paper, while Harper’s was armed with pencils like they were throwing stars. It was silly and over-the-top, but it made Olivia laugh harder than she had in weeks.

“Okay,” Harper said, holding up the finished sketch with a flourish. “Behold: Teal Notebook Girl and Sketchbook Girl, defenders of justice and bad snacks everywhere.”

Olivia grinned, her chest warm with a mix of amusement and affection. “I love it.”

“You’d better,” Harper said, pretending to look offended. “I put my soul into this masterpiece.”

“Masterpiece is a strong word,” Olivia teased, but her smile never wavered.

They sat there for a while, flipping through Harper’s other sketches and talking about everything and nothing all at once. Olivia found herself telling Harper about the small things she’d been holding back—the stress of her classes, the pressure she felt to succeed, her fear of not being enough. Harper listened, never interrupting, her hazel eyes steady and kind.

“Olivia,” Harper said finally, her tone softer now. “You don’t have to do it all alone. You know that, right?”

Olivia nodded, her throat tightening. “I know. I just... forget sometimes.”

“Then I’ll remind you,” Harper said simply. “Whenever you need it.”

The weight in Olivia’s chest lifted, replaced by something warmer, something softer. She smiled, feeling a quiet kind of happiness settle over her.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harper smiled back, her expression brighter than the fairy lights tangled around her window. “Anytime.”

And for the first time in a long time, Olivia believed her.