Rebel

7

"How the hell are you a rebel?" Harry smirks. Fuck him and his smirking. "That none of your god damn business!" I snap. He just smirks again and swims closer to me. I clench my jaw and try to keep my self from drowning him. He stops right in front of me making me lean back onto the edge of the pool wall.

Shit.

This is so cliche.

I look around and spot a drink. I honestly want to throw it on him but it looks soooo good. I grab it and take a sip. Turns out it sucks. Stupid god damned looks. Fuck!!!

I prop my arms on the edge of the pool and climb out. I strut over to the lawn chair and grab a towel. I wrap the fluffy towel. Cher follows my lead leaving the morons in the pool, starring at us. "Hey dip shits!" I call, "Our eyes, they're up here!" I gesture to our faces but their stares are still locked where they are. I groan. I grab the stack of dry towels and throw them in the pool.

"HEY!" They shout in unison. "Next time, listen to me!" I call. "I have a better word to describe you, Bitch!" Harry shouts. I turn and face his direction, "That nickname is for friends only, and seeing as we aren't friends, you don't get to call me that." With that I turn back towards the house and start to walk towards the house but stumble.

I think what I drank is catching up to me.

Fuck.

Why can't I just drink with no consequences?

Screw logic!

I realize I really need to pee.

Like, badly.

I stumble inside still in the small towel. I start pushing annoying dicks out of my way. Whistling and glares are shot in my direction. I stumble into a hallway and start jiggling handles. All are locked except one on the end. I open it and look around. It's a neat room in light colors, mostly shades of brown, non of them clashing. There's a desk with a computer and chair with someone sitting in it typing. He turns and shrieks. I join him. I stop and take a breath.

Oh my god.

Now that I've looked at him, a close look, I recognize him as Marcel.

"Marcel?" I ask.

"Y-yes?" he stutters. "It's me," I place my hand on my chest, "Charlie." His face looses the look of shock and scaredness. "O-oh. H-hi ch-ch-Charlie. I-I thought that d-door was locked." "Well it obviously wasn't!" I laugh. He smiles slightly.

"Hey so I was looking for a bathroom, but there's either a hormonal couple in one, a girl who had wayyyyy to much to drink, or another girl who's crying because some guy doesn't love her. So does this room by any chance have like a personal bathroom or something 'cause I really need to pee!" "Y-yeah. Umm... On. I mean in here." He gestures to a door.

I go in and do my business and get out.

"So Marcel," I start, "Why are you here?" He looks nervous. "I. I umm.... I live here..." "You do?"

I'm like uber confused right now.

He nods, "I'm. I'm ummm Harry's brother. I'm Marcel Styles."

My jaw drops.

"What?!"