LOOSE ➶ « l.s. »

5: OUT

« HARRY »

Mornings in my household had slowly began to feel normal. They had gone from strange occurrences during dinner on the floor of what would be the dining room, to a more awkward gathering since we've gotten our dining table. I sat at the very dining table, reading the back of the cereal box conveniently placed at the centre of the tabletop as I ate the very pops I poured into a bowl.

A pile of paperwork was placed before me, making me tear my eyes away from the cereal box in my hand, and look to my mum as she walked by in her nightgown and hair curlers. Hesitantly reaching for the sheets of paper, I filed through each one with furrowed eyebrows, "Care to explain?" I asked her in small confusion.

"Enrollment papers" my mother simply said, and I remained confused, "You need an education to make it big in this country, Harry" she explained to me in a playfully sarcastic tone.

"Yeah, I've managed to understand that part–" I said with a stifled laugh, "–but I thought you had already enrolled me into a school, there's only half a month left of summer holiday"

My mum shook her head, bringing a pan to the stove to begin breakfast for my father, "I've been far too busy, darling" she said to me as she pulled the eggs out of the refrigerator.

"With what? Cooking and ironing?" I snickered, standing from the table to place my empty bowl into the sink, giving my mother a sympathetic kiss to her temple as I did so, insisting I'd drive to the address given on the forms, and fill them out as I got there.

I strode up the stairs, and to my bedroom to wash the morning layer of filth away from my body. The shower being a type of getaway for me, the mere small amount of time I was to get within the day in which I am alone with my thoughts—it was something I attempted to take advantage of every chance I came upon it. Yet, as I stood within these thoughts, Louis Tomlinson came to mind. Louis Tomlinson and his abundance of strange friends.

A part of me was envious, if I must admit it. I had found myself wishing I was well-known enough to have my own group of friends like Louis Tomlinson, because there was no doubt that he was their leader. Although him and his friends may not see it that way, everyone else did—it was the first thing I found obvious about the four.

I shut my shower off, watching the water go down the drain as I shook excess drops from my hair, letting it fall over my eyes as I got out of the bath. Stripping the towel away from my waist once entering my room, and looking through my drawers for whatever to wear.

With trousers on my legs, and a jacket far too large for my thin body, I brought myself out the front door, unlocking my father's car, and growing thankful he always decided to take his work car out as I did so.

I had parked the car in the address given to me, a school's parking lot utterly vacant on the summer day. Rummaging for a pen from the glove compartment, I began to fill out the paperwork given to me—attempting my best impersonation of my parents' signatures where they needed to be signed.

"Is there somethin' I can help you with?" I was snapped away from my concentration, looking up at whomever was leaning down to knock on my window.

I stretched over, rolling down the sliver of glass, "What was that?" I asked him, although clearly hearing what he had said.

"I said, is there somethin' I can help you with?" the boy asked me once more, and I shifted my eyes back and forth in confusion.

"Do I need help with something?" I asked, and the boy looked back at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"Where are you from?" he asked me, completely talking over our previous topic of conversation.

"Britain" I simply said, looking him up and down.