Lost in Europe

CHAPTER FIVE- AVERY

After we made lunch and cleaned up our mess from the food fight that he totally started, we went to my room to start packing.

“ Can you believe we leave tomorrow?” Collin squealed, excitedly.

“ Yeah I know!” I returned, matching his tone and pitch.

“ I hope we go to France and Italy and Finland!”

“ Yeah. I can't wait to see where we land tomorrow!” The teachers and chaperons had tried- and succeeded- to not tell anyone where we were landing in Portugal tomorrow. Wow, tomorrow.

“ I can't wait for England! Adell and The Beatles and Cher Lloyd and all of these amazing British artists! Oh, and the food! Ugh, I can't wait.” I tossed him everything in my dresser, and he started folding. That was our system. I walked over to my short dresser and picked out every pair of pants that were in it. Then headed over to my closet, where I picked out four dresses for formal occasions, two pairs of heels, and six of my sweaters. I don't know how he does it, but he fits everything in the suitcase. Granted, it is a huge- I do mean huge- suitcase, but it should only hold half of the clothing he puts in there.

“ Where are you going?” He asked, curiosity on his tongue.

“ Bathroom for all my shower stuff.”

“ No, no, no. I'm buying all of my shampoo in England. You can just come with me to the store and buy anything you need. It takes up too much room, and I can't fold soap...” I laughed at the look on his face.

His expression changed when I started to charge for the bed, landing right on top of him.

“ Hey, there.” I said, smiling like crazy. It was weird acting like this with my best friend, but I think I could get used to it. I pecked his lips, only intending to leave them there for a minute, but somehow I lost myself in his passion. It was like he had been waiting to do this forever and now that he could, he didn't want to stop. I pulled away, leaving him on my bed, both of us gasping for air. It's a fact that I love him, but that love might be changing to a different type of love. I just looked him, zoning out of the world. His white T-shirt flowed down loosely on his chest, covered by the leather jacket he wore when he rode his motorcycle. His denim jeans were covering his muscular legs. His runner legs. He was a track boy. He was in every sport in school, and it showed too. He has a nice build going for him, You would be blind to turn him down. He was the perfect; the ideal dream boy. He was the kind of guy that a daughter wouldn't dare bring home to her daddy, yet the kind of guy every dad wants his daughter to bring home. He's good looking, smart, sexy...

“Here!” I got up and tossed him the hundred pairs of socks for him to pack while I set out my outfit for tomorrow on my computer chair. In less than twenty-four hours, I will be in Europe with my new- umm... Boyfriend? Hmm... This should be interesting.