The boys next door || completed

Eight hours

Emily's POV**

We laugh giggle all the way back home - which isn't that far, but still - talking about god knows what anymore.

"You know I'm seventeen?" Leondre looks at me with the biggest smile.

"I am very aware of that, yes." I'm grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"And you bought me a car and Joey bought me lessons." He says, and I nod, not knowing where this is going.

"Well, I can take you out a lot more." Leondre smiles and I laugh.

"You're such a dork." I laugh. We get to our houses, and I point to the Peugeot 208 in his drive. "That's yours."

He spins me round, grinning like there's no tomorrow, and I can't stop laughing.

"Okay, I'll see you later okay?" He waves and we go into our separate houses. I lean against the door, a smile on my face.

And then I see dad's face.

Charlie's POV**

I can't believe Emily got Chloe down here! She's only staying for the weekend, but still.

We're watching a movie, and her phone rings. It's her brother, Daniel.

"Sorry, Charl." She leaves to answer it, and I pause the movie. I hear her yelling, then sighing, and she comes back in, looking really sorry. "I have to go. Sorry. I love you." She starts packing her things, and I help her, knowing she's going through some difficult times with her family at the moment.

"It's alright. Text me when you're home so I know you're safe." She leaves, and I check my phone out of habit. I have five messages.

Embear: come over when you can
Embear: it's bad
Embear: Don't tell Leondre
Embear: I'm sorry, I know Chloe's there, she can come over too
Embear: Please?

The last one was sent five minutes ago, and I slam the door, running around to her house. I don't knock - we don't really need to anymore, they know it's us normally - and run straight up to her room.

What if she's gone?
What if she's in trouble?
What if she's hurt?

The thought keeps running through my mind, and those of similar themes. I throw open the door to find her in tears, dressed in clothes she's stolen from Leondre and a blanket.

"Emily, what's wrong?" I sit next to her on the bed. She's clutching a photo of her and Leondre that I printed while in France and gave to her.

"We have six months." She whispers, tears running down her cheeks.

"Until what?"

"We leave. For America. Leave you and Leondre, and everyone else." She looks up at me. "I don't want to leave Leondre."

She's leaving?!

"Why are you leaving?" I ask softly, putting y arm over her shoulders.

"Dad's contract is only a year, and then they're moving him out to California for a two-year contract. San Fransisco." She looks at me. "I shouldn't be crying, but it's just - I'm moving to America. I can't- I don't want to hold him back. I don't want him to have to feel like- and we'll be in different time zones, like eight hours difference." She leans into me.

"It's okay. And hey, there's skype. I know Leondre, he's going to spend the next six months-"

"He's not going to know. I'll tell him, but in four months. I don't want him worrying about me leaving, I don't want him spending his time thinking about ways to keep in touch. I want him and me to have a good time, spend the next few months having the best time anyone could have. And then I'll tell him. And then it'll be over." Emily's breathing is quick, uneven.

I calm her down, and we stay there for a while.

But my mind is racing.

She seriously can't be thinking about breaking up with him?!
Well, she obviously is.
Can I stop her?
Should I stop her?
Oh, who knows.

What's Leondre gonna do?