Sophie POV;
The next day had consisted of mostly packing and making our way onto the bus to make our way from London to Manchester. I was currently sat on the sofa in the back of the bus with my head on Michael’s shoulder, watching him play a strange game on the xBox consisting of him shooting various people and zombies. Not my type of thing to be fully honest.
I sighed softly as my phone dinged with another text from Harry. That’s all he had been doing, but I wasn’t having it. I didn’t want to ruin anything with Michael seeings as I was having to fly home and live near to them all. I turned off the sound, setting my phone on the table and turning back to the stray piece of black cotton coming off of his skin tight jeans.
Skin tight jeans.
Harry.
I had to get that boy out of my mind, somehow.
“I’m just going to get some food” I smiled softly, sitting up and kissing Michael’s temple, running my hand through his freshly dyed hair from a couple of hours ago in the hotel before we left.
I grabbed my bag before walking to the kitchen, realising we were stopping at a service station. Mainly to buy coffee or anything else we needed for our long journey of a few hours. A few hours was a long time in my mind.
Especially with the awkwardness of Rebecca hating me and trying to avoid Harry.
I climbed off the bus with Michael. His hand in the back pocket of my skinny jeans as my photo of myself, Rebecca and Liam fell out of my bag. The photo from when we were about 7.
Rebecca lifted it up, handing it back as I gave her a soft smile and a polite ‘thank you’, which she didn’t return. No smile of any sign of happiness.
The memories of the photo came flooding back.
It was Liam’s 7th Birthday and he was blowing out the candles after almost catching his hair alight. The clown had made me cry due to my phobia of them and Rebecca had been pooed on by a bird. It was a brilliant day that we remembered well…
I sighed softly, leaning further into Michael as we saw Harry. His mouth opened to speak to me as we were stood looking at the sandwiches. I slowly pressed my lips to Michael’s who gladly returned the kiss, causing Harry to sigh and walk away.
I felt like such a bitch.
That’s what I was.
A bitch.
A heartbreaker.
The closest thing to the devil without being the real thing.
A true slut.
Rebecca was right.
