Save ourselves- One Direction

Avery

I didn't understand why Roxanne was so keen to know what had happened between me and Lucy. She was probably bored. In itself, I wouldn't pay her any further attention, but she had noticed that I had been snooping around a bit. And even though I had given her a halfway understandable excuse, she didn't really seem to buy it. I didn't know her, but I was very sure of one thing: Roxanne was smart-mouth and she certainly wasn't stupid. However, I couldn't judge if she would keep her mouth shut when it came down to it or if she would rat me out.

I had to be a little more careful. As long as I didn't know who I could trust, I didn't want anyone to know about my plan, or rather idea, because I didn't really have a plan yet.

On my way back to camp I met Harry. He was dragging a handcart full of wood along the forest path. It was obvious that the cart was far too heavy for him. I caught up with him.

"Wait, I'll help you," I said and grabbed the rope with my free hand.

Together we pulled the cart behind us.

"Thank you," Harry said.

There was silence between us for a moment, then he turned to me.

" Where are you from, anyway?" he asked.

"I was born in Surrey, but at the moment I live in Amsterdam. We've moved around a lot."

"What's it like in Amsterdam? My mom says it's supposed to be really nice there."

"It's cool all right. But it also takes some getting used to. I've never seen a city that has so many bicycles."

" Bicycles?"

"Yes, the most used form of transport there. We also call it the silent death."

He looked at me questioningly and amused at the same time.

"Why is that?"

"Because they come from all sides and usually never make themselves noticed. Even if you want to go around the corner in your car, there's usually another 3 or 4 wheels coming, still making the turn before you do."

"It's been a while since I've been on a bicycle," he then murmured.

I remained silent, embarrassed. I didn't want to trigger any nostalgia in him. Still, I couldn't help asking.

"How long have you been here now?"

"A year. A year and almost three months. But who's counting?" he grumbled sullenly.

I was surprised. A whole year he had been here? How had he possibly endured it here for so long?

"And how long do you have left?"

"Three months."

"Then you'll be home before me. I'm here until October 30," I tried to cheer him up.

He smiled a cheerless smile and just nodded.

I hesitated. I would have preferred to ask him why he was here in the first place, but he was already in a bad mood, so I should save that question for another time. Instead, I preferred to ask him about his home.

"And where are you from?", I asked.

"I live in Buxton. Or used to live there."

"And where is that?"

"East Midlands, England," he explained.

"Wow, and you've lived there all your life?"

"I was born in Redditch, but all I can remember is Buxton. It's not that big, but it's okay."