Chapter Three: Mitch and Emily's POVs

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Mitch P.O.V.

I sleepily opened my eyes and glanced at my alarm clock. 12:01 PM. So pretty much noon.

Noon.

Noon.

Why was that word ringing in my head so much? Was I supposed to be somewhere at noon? I don't think so... if so, I was completely screwed. My thoughts were hazy with left-over jet lag and just SLEEP. It felt like I hadn't slept in days!!!

They're kicking them out at noon. A small voice in the back of my mind told me.

"What?" I mumbled aloud. What did that mean? Think, Mitch! I urged myself. 

Somehow it had something to do with Emily running away from the orphanage.

Oh, my God. It all made sense now!

Emily was at the orphanage! They were going to kick her out! But...

It couldn't be too late...

Could it?

I jumped out of bed, suddenly re-energized by the small hope that Emmy might still be adoptable.

~Time Skip~

I trudged up the stairs to my bedroom, feeling as though weights and chains were pulling me down.

I knew it  was hopeless. Emmy had just left five minutes before I arrived. "Damn!" I muttered, kicking at a Nerf gun to my left, not caring about anything anymore. 

"Mitch? Buddy? You okay?" Jerome called out softly and cautiously from my left.

"Laissez-moi tranquille..." I muttered in French, telling him to leave me alone. (Ha, didn't see the French thing coming, did you? XD) I slammed my door behind me and collapsed on my bed in defeat. Somehow, I managed to fall asleep in no time.

~*~Emily's POV~*~

I walked along the sidewalks, retracing my steps from last night. I had been walking for an hour, not knowing where the hell I was, carrying two suitcases full of clothes and stuff, when finally...

Yes! There it was! I ran up to the house, suddenly engulfed in a wave of energy and adrenaline. I rapidly knocked on the door about a million times until Jason answered the door. His face lit up and he gestured me in quietly. "The guys are in the kitchen," he whispered. "And Mitch is upstairs. You should go to him first. I'll take your bags, Em."

"Thanks, Jason," I told him as he eased the suitcases out of my hands. I quietly bolted up the stairs and walked slowly down the hallway, listening intently for the sound of Mitch's voice or something else to lead me to his bedroom. Instead I heard soft breathing from the door on my right. Whoever was in that room suddenly jerked awake, letting out a yelp, then all of a sudden, I heard them crying. Their voice choked out something in French. 

"Pourquoi est-ce toujours le cas pour moi?" 

I translated it to "Why does this always happen to me?" and realized that Mitch was probably the only one (besides Jerome) here who spoke French, but Jerome was downstairs because I could hear his voice drifting up the stairs in a loud laugh. So it had to be Mitch! Slowly and silently, I turned the doorknob and gently pushed open his door. "Se il vous plait ne pleure pas, Mitch. Je suis ici. Ca va." (Please don't cry, Mitch. I'm here. It's okay.)

"E-Emily? Mais... comment?" (E-Emily? But... how?)

"Je ne ai pas de famille qui sait que je existe, alors je suis venu ici." (I don't have family that knows I exist, so I came here.)

"What do you mean?" Mitch asked, switching to English from French.

"It's... not important. What is important is that I'm here now, so you don't have to be worried or sad anymore." I told him. He sighed, his face shadow-like and sorrowful. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said offhandedly. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just... so happy to see you," he said, engulfing me in a hug. I smiled and hugged him back. 

"I missed you, too, Benja."

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