Love, Harry [l.s]

sixteen

Harry's POV:

It's been two days since I received a letter back from Skylar and Chris, and two days since enduring the somewhat gut-wrenching phone call with my mom, only to find out she and my dad have fled to America. 

I feel like I'm helpless, at a crossroads between leaving London and somehow trying to reach them, or staying here with a foster family when I could be living with them. Oh, and not to mention that I have a long-lost sister who I would love to meet. 

It's a lot of pressure to take as a mere 17-year-old, despite everything that I've gone through and endured in my childhood. I just don't want to make the wrong decision. Simply put, I don't know what'd be the best for me, as of now.

Louis has been incredible these last two days - he's incredible all days of the week - but I mean in terms of helping me through it all and giving me distance when the thought of my parents in America becomes too much. He's a big reason why I want to stay here in London, along with Tommy and my other friends at the agency. 

I suppose America just has so many uncertainties, and I felt like I've finally reached a constant in my life right now with Louis and everything going on around me. I suppose the question becomes do I want to risk what I have right now for the American unknown?

I didn't talk much about this yesterday, and Louis helped me take my mind off of it as we watched movies and hung out at his house all day. Today, we're kicking around a football and nearing the topic of my parents as we spend time alone on the footie pitch on the outskirts of the neighborhood. 

It's a sunny way with pretty blue skies, which lifts my mood. Louis looks exceptionally cute today with his light brown hair sticking out of his beanie. We kick around the ball, chatting with one another, and planning to eat lunch in about an hour or so.

"So what does all of this mean for you now?" Louis asks gently, approaching the subject with caution. I might as well talk about it because if not it'll eat away at me and I'll be forever restless and anxious. 

"I don't know, I really don't know," I answer truthfully, "But as of now, I don't think I want to go to America to see them. Despite the bad things in my life - foster care-wise - I think I have too much good going on for me here to risk moving to another country all by myself, just to meet my parents."

"Not that I want you to move away, but hypothetically what if you just flew down there for a day or two? The Huxley's have more than enough money to cover the flight expenses and hotels or whatnot and you could say hi and visit them before coming back here. Then after that, you might have a better idea of what to do next: if you want to live with them permanently or stay here in London."

He has a good idea, but the thought of traveling alone to a foreign country scares me. As does the whole 'meeting my parents that I haven't seen since I was three who are now criminals and illegal immigrants living under the radar to avoid being caught by both the English and American governments' thing. That scares me too. 

"I've never been on a plane before," I admit, using it as a lame excuse to mask my nervousness involving the whole situation.

Louis mulls over his own plan as we continue to kick the football back and forth. "What if I went with you?"

The question hangs in midair for a split second before I respond. "Would you really do that? Traveling to America with me just so I can see my parents?"

He shrugs with a grin. "Of course I would. Would that make you more comfortable flying over there?"

"Immensely," I breathe a sigh of relief, "Now I guess the only question is how to convince the Huxley's to buy us both tickets and let us travel together. Because you and Margo had that breakup, will they even say yes?"