My Babysitters Are Idiots // One Direction [Book 1: Idiot Series]

Chapter Twenty Two - Mr. Adams?

Mica.

Next Morning.

"How're ya feeling?" I asked the curly haired boy as I walked into the living room with the not-so-hot hot chocolate in my hands. 

He shrugged, not looking up at me. "I dunno." His face was buried in the magazine he had in his hand that was issued two years ago.

"Hmm? Are you happy?" I asked, sitting next to him and putting the hot chocolate on the coffee table, eyeing him as he eye'd the mag.

Harry shook his head. "No."

"Sad?"

"No." He shook his head again. I looked at him, confused. Harry closed the magazine and threw it carefully on to the coffee table before turning to look at me.

"I'm not happy, or sad," he said quietly, "I don't know how I feel."

I gave him a sad look. Then, I reached over to get the not-so-hot hot chocolate and handed it to him. He thanked me before slowly sipping it. I sighed as I watched him. He was so sad, it was clear to every single one of us.

"Hi Harry, how do you feel?" Louis asked, coming out of the kitchen and sitting next to Harry and I on the couch. 

He looked at the magazine, but didn't pick it up. Harry shrugged before sipping on the drink again, licking the cream off his lips. Louis nodded, then looked at me.

"How do you feel?" he asked me. I nodded slightly.

"Okay, I guess." I shrugged as I rested my head in my hand, letting out a yawn.

Harry put the not-so-hot hot chocolate down on the coffee table and turned to me with a small smile. "Thank you."

"It's all fine, curly." I shrugged, smiling at him. He gave me another weak smile before grabbing my hand in his and rubbing the knuckle with his thumb. I stared at his hand, the scars still visible on his wrist. Obviously.

I then pulled my hand away from him and, instead, I grabbed his hand. He looked at me weirdly as I lifted his hand to my face, palm facing up. I leaned down a little, kissing his scars gently as to not hurt him. He blushed a little at the gesture and looked down.

"We should so something today!" Louis said loudly, as Liam, Zayn and Niall were walking in to get the boys' attention.

"Like what?" Zayn asked, scratching the back of his neck. Louis lifted his hand and began rubbing his invisible beard.

"The carnival?" Niall asked excitedly. We all looked at each other and nodded, none of us making eye contact with Harry, who obviously wouldn't be thrilled about the idea.

"The carnival it is!" Liam chimed.

The Carnival.

Louis drove around the parking lot for a while, looking for somewhere to park. While he did that, I kept an eye on Harry. While we were all in shorts and tank tops, he was in a long-sleeved jersey and his ball-hugging skinny jeans. It was obvious he was sweating. 

Zayn, Liam and Niall had even taken their shirts off at this point; even with the air conditioning on in the car, we were still sweating. Louis was probably going to do the same once he parked and I was wearing a bikini under my denim shorts and tank top--in case we go to the beach, which we might be--so I could even take my shirt off. But Harry had to go around in a big jersey and skinny jeans for the day.

"Harry?" I whispered to the boys next to me. He looked at me with a questioning look, waiting for me to continue. "You can take your jersey off, no one cares about the scars. And if the paps see, it doesn't matter. The fans already know, Harry."