Error. [H.S.]

10.

Scotty.

"And then he implied that he fucked me!" The everlasting sent of lemon cleaning solution burned my nose as I drained my mind of every last detail to Beck, pacing down the walkway between the kitchenette and the dining booth. "In front of my dad! Do you know how terrifying it is for someone to say that you know what gets them off right in front of your dad?" A loud groan deflated my lungs as I collapsed back into the semi-circle booth, hiding my face behind my palms.

"Sounds pretty fucking terrifying." Beck shifted the butterscotch hard candy to her right cheek, twisting the yellow transparent wrapper between her fingers. "So when did he fuck you?"

Her blunt questioning shouldn't catch me off guard the way that it is does, but every so often, I find myself dumbfounded at the way hesitation doesn't intrude her every thought. If she wants to know something, she asks.

Oh, to be blessed with the art of not overthinking every little thing.

"He didn't." I lie over my hard candy, sucking on the coating lightly to disguise any facial expressions that could blow my cover. "He said it to be an ass, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing."

"Take it as a compliment. Maybe he's spent the past few nights jerking off to the distant memory of Scotty Klein." Sarcasm stirred with a posh voice as she reached over to me to dramatically stroke my cheek.

"Well in that case, that changes everything! Get Martha on the phone, I need a Brazilian and a Polaroid camera, pronto!" I match her snobbish accent, holding character as long as I can before we both erupted in laughter, defusing my anger naturally with her presence.

"How the fuck did we get here?" Beck lulled our loud riffs into hushed realization, my head dropping onto her shoulder as I took in the newly furnished tour bus that would accommodate as our living quarters until this blew over. Muted neutral colors were expertly collaborated with wood flooring to make for a homey vibe. "We used to joke about shit like this happening to us. Now look at us, we're sitting on one of Harry Styles's tour buses. How does that even happen?"

"Karma." I easily answered, exhaling out my pent up annoyance for Harry. "I hate to admit it, but you guys were right about him. I didn't think he'd be so bad but he's just..."

"Harry Styles?"

"Harry fucking Styles." My correction earned a nod from Beck, arm lazily thrown over my shoulder to sturdy me as she leans forward to grab another piece of butterscotch candy.

"More like Harry fucked my best friend and she won't own up to it Styles." Her shoulders bounced slightly with each chuckle, confusion striking my face.

She was just kidding, right?

"What?" Her accusations bring me to shoot straight up to look her in the eye, unsure why she's prying into this topic.

"He took one look at you and started undressing you with his eyes. I don't know what magic wand you used, but you have him under your spell bad."

"That's not true. He's only like that towards me because I was nice to him." I defend.

"This why you need to leave the profiling up to us, Scotcharoo." Her fingers brushed through my curls, separating them as we both observe the tour bus and all it's offerings. Ever since we were little, this was her natural trick at calming me down after a bad day and it works like a charm every time. "You're dead wrong and you're going to get caught dancing with the devil if you're not careful."

"I was just trying the whole 'don't judge a book by it's cover' thing. My bad for giving him the benefit of the doubt."

I've always struggled when I can't find a way to get along with someone. I lose myself in wondering whether or not there's a deeper rooted issue as to why we don't mesh, or maybe I said the wrong thing. I have this natural urge to befriend everyone after my mom embedded the mentality that 'everyone needs at least one good friend in life, so be the best friend that you can be. You'll never know how much that will mean to someone, but you will have made them feel seen, and that's more than enough to change the world.', so when I can't befriend someone, I feel like a failure to her.