Make It Up To You ~ Luke Hemmings (5 Seconds Of Summer)

Chapter 1

2008

"Hey dad?" I called from my new bedroom. Brown boxes were still stacked high with all of my possessions in them. My dad appeared in the doorway, an apple in hand. "What do I wear today?"

I started my new school after the weekend, and the headmaster of the school had insisted on showing my dad and I around, introducing me to some of my classmates and my teachers. On the bed in front of me laid my two favourite tops. My Metallica tour top that my dad had given me when it got too small for him, and my Iron Maiden top.

My dad looked at me skeptically but just chuckled. "What? I want to make an impression! If these are the people I'll be spending the next six years of my life with they deserve to know from the start that I don't fuck around!" I laughed at my dad as he shook his head.

"Just don't swear like that at school, they'll think I'm a bad parent! People don't generally like it when twelve year olds drop the f-bomb," He walked over to where I was stood, analysing the t-shirts on the bed in front of us.

"So, what do you think?" I pushed for an answer. "Iron Maiden or Metallica?" We stayed silent for a second before cocking our heads, looking at each other and speaking simultaneously, in a gruff Cockney accent, "Metallica!"

I shooed my dad out so I could get changed, all the while thinking about England. I get that we had to move - we just couldn't afford to stay. My mum had walked out on us when I was 5 and hadn't looked back, so my dad raised me on his own. We didn't have any other family so it literally was just the two of us. I guess that's why I was so close with my dad.

I was never the kid that had loads of friends so my dad was my best friend. We listened to the same music, we watched the same tv, we liked the same movies. He was the most important person in my life.

I walked into the kitchen in my chosen clothes for the day; Metallica top, black skinny jeans and battered, beat up old converse sneakers. "You are by far the coolest twelve year old out there," My dad chuckled, pushing a bowl of cereal towards me.

I smiled smugly, eating a mouthful of Frosties, "I know."

"You really have taken the move well," My dad commented. "It's made it all a lot easier."

"It's not like I had any reason not to," I shrugged, pushing my Frosties around in the bowl. "We had no family to leave behind, I don't have any close friends to miss, and who in their right mind would prefer England over Australia?!"

"You're the best," My dad smiled, kissing the top of my head. "Now hurry up, we don't want to be late."

After another five minutes of dad rushing me and a fifteen minute drive filled with jokes and music, we'd arrived at my new school. Pulling up in the car park we saw a short, bald man stood with his hands behind his back. He was smiling widely in the direction of our car, obviously anticipating our arrival. "Someone's eager," My dad muttered, making me smirk as we got out of the car.

"Don't! We need to make a good impression!" I hissed, pushing my dad slightly as we walked to meet who I'd guessed was the headmaster.

"Good morning! I'm the principal, Mr Jackson. You must be Mr Harris?" My dad shook Mr Jackson's hand.

"Please, call me David," My dad said. He put his hand on my shoulder and smiled down. "This is my daughter, Erica."

"Nice to meet you," I said sweetly.

"Let's start the tour then!" Mr Jackson turned on his heel and started walking briskly towards the entrance to the school, leaving my dad and I to follow. I looked up at my dad to see him looking back at me with the same amused expression and choked out a laugh, covering it badly with a cough.