chapter 1- california news.

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"callaway. can you not mope around? we have to start unpacking."

my mom basically whines, throwing her hands across her chest, exasperated. moving from england to l.a clearly wasnt my idea. she and my dad has some revalation that it would be a "great" idea to pack us up and ship us to the other side of the planet.

"ill be happy to unpack. as long as we go back home."

"we are home."

home. what a wierd concept. a place you live. you sleep, you eat. you bathe, you dance around in your underwear to the radio. none of which I want to do here. this new modern californian home that has a wierd security stystem and the rooms are just huge. a giant inground pool with a hotub, then kitchen here is like the size of our entire home back in england.

"I mean england. where my friends are."

"you mean Harry? " my mom says rolling her eyes, and shifts her weight.

"no mom." I snap. "I dont mean harry. hes on tour or something. hes a dick anyway."

"Callaway!  Harry Is a very nice young man."

"he thinks hes Better than everyone!" and I mean ita half true. hes harry styles. what the hell more do you need?

speaking of the devil, my mom points and I turn to the tv to see curly hair  on the screen and some wierd american news caster talks bout the boys current plans to be in l.a recording a new album for the next few months.

"oh look. theres a little bit of home for you." my mom laughs and the screen flicks between the 5 boys landing back on harry. his tight pants. that he once swore he would never wear.

"we arnt friends mom." I growl and stand from the couch houghing up the stairs to my room letting the door slam behind me.

so what if harry and I had a thing before I moved? he clearly moved on to bigger and better things. and better girls. besides, he and i went at it since we could walk. races around the back yard, best performance at cook outs. we always wanted to one up the other. and I guess he won this time. with a world tour.

boxes are scattered across my floor. at home they nearly filled my whole room, but now my room is so big it looks like nothing. I make myself open up one. and of course a picture of harry and I some where about the age of 7 standing akwardly as 7 yearolds do best and he has his arm around me. I pick it up and set it on my desk. kicking the temptaion to just throw it out. hes the reason I cried the whole flight here. and even the layover in detroit they were on posters and little girls back backs. really quite unbearable.

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