Build-A-Boyfriend

37

36 missed calls from: Dad

Oh. Oh shit.

I'll just put my phone in my pocket and try not think about it, which is my general method of dealing with life's problems. Doesn't usually work but there's a first time for everything, right?

My phone begins to vibrate just as I step off the bus.

Dad is calling

Yeah well, Hendrix isn't answering

I'll message him later, but not until we're safely ensconced in our hotel.
Judging by the Airbnb pictures, hotel is actually a very strong word in this case. Tiny shed with secret cameras installed in the ensuite is probably more accurate.

Still, beggars can't be choosers and although I booked it in a moment of madness the other night, I've found myself going along with it. I just can't see any other option. There's just two months left, I don't have enough money to pay for Harry, nevermind Louis, so the only thing I can think of is to go on the run. Sort of like modern Bonnie and Clyde, if Clyde was a big dork who ugly cried for 5 full hours after watching The Notebook.

I take a deep breath before opening the door to my apartment. I told Harry and Louis to just pack essentials, so naturally, when I enter the room Harry is standing next to 7 massive suitcases and Louis is clutching the Wii and Bunny Land game possessively while wearing a giant inflatable rubber ring around his midridf and flip flops, both of which clash horribly with today's lime green Tudor outfit.

Sigh.

"Oh! Hallo Hendrix!" Harry says cheerfully. He has a careful smudge of white sunscreen across his nose, despite the fact it's January in Northern England and we are travelling to Scotland.

"I said essentials, Harry." I say through gritted teeth.

"Yes, I've only packed essentials."

I don't even bother to argue, instead I just grab the medium sized backpacks I've bought them and stuff them with the few things I deem to be essential. Louis practically snarls when I suggest leaving the Wii, but as luck would have it, he twists away from me so rapidly that his sword bursts the rubber ring.

It takes another 10 minutes to shove Dave into his cat basket, during which time I suffer scraches so severe that I'm amazed I don't faint from blood loss. Taking Dave isn't ideal but I can't exactly leave him.
Just as we step outside it begins to rain heavily. We miss the bus, mainly due to Louis' absolute frantic insistence that we abandon Google maps and use his 'unfailing' sense of navigation, which of course lands us on the wrong side of town. Once we finally reach the bus station, we're told it's a two hour delay until the next coach arrives. Louis spends the majority of this time singing loudly and trying to engage in conversation with everyone around him. Harry keeps tapping my arm to tell me that he's worried about Dave. Dave keeps meowing loudly and hissing.

I've made my way through enough coffee to cause a global shortage by the time we get on the bus. My allocated seat is right next to the toilet (of course) and the smells emitting from are so soul-twistingly intense that I spend most of the journey trying to not breathe, a feat made harder when the bus breaks down in the middle of nowhere and every single other passenger decides to spend this delay time taking relay trips to the toilet. We stay stationary for almost an hour, during which time Louis invents a game that seems to consist of shouting the colour of every car that passes along the motorway as loudly as possible.

When we finally arrive in the tiny Scottish town, I can't find our 'hotel' and it's a miserable hour of waiting around in the rain before the most grumpy man I've ever met comes to lead the way.