Scared

Chapter eighteen

A few days after Harry and I agreed to someday travel around the world, I didn't see him at all.

With all the preperations and work I have to turn in, I have no time to waste.

So I sat on my bed finishing the report for the senior community service.

No one else was home besides me because Michael had forced Luke to go purchase items for a senior prank he was planning.

I pushed up my glasses, continuing to type my experience at the mental foster home.

I've never experienced something so amazing before. The kids there are so different and unique and they have such deep thoughts that could have you thinking about for days.

I've made a very nice friend there who taught me alot about the outside world. He taught me the meaning of fear and the powers it could create. I've never met someone with such a way with words.

I stopped typing and re-read my entry so far.

It didn't look good, it looked kinda sloppy.

I shook my head, shutting the laptop and leaving to grab a quick snack.

The door opened and there came Luke and Michael holding bags of who-knows-what.

"Hey Ariana." Michael greets, setting the stuff on the coffee table.

"Finished your report?" Luke asks, setting the items down aswell.

"I have writers block. I'll finish later." I respond,"What do you have in the bags?" I take a peak inside.

"Don't look!" Michael takes the bag away from me,"It's only between me, Luke, Ashton, and Calum."

"Hey, I'm part of this little family too." I cross my arms, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, we love you, but you're a girl."

"Rude." I scoff at Michael.

"It includes paint." Luke speaks up.

"Shut up, Hemmings." Michael hits his arm.

"At least I didn't tell her what we're doing." Luke defends.

"But she'll get the idea."

"Whatever."

"Stop bickering, I won't tell anyone about your stupid prank if that makes you feel any better." I push them both aside, so I could walk into the kitchen to get what I wanted.

"We'll be upstairs." Luke calls, him and Michael running to his room, carrying the bags.

I take a bottle of water and leftovers from last night, heating the food up.

I patiently wait, my phone buzzing on the counter.

I pick it up, reading the text message.

Harry: where have you been? I haven't seen you these past few days.

Me: sorry! I've been busy with schoolwork.. I'll make it up to you tomorrow?

Harry: okay. I've just been feeling a little sad

Me: don't you worry, I'll be there tomorrow. Promise.

Harry: hurry there isn't much time left

Me: what do you mean by that?

He never replied back, but it didn't matter. He probably meant collage or something.

The microwave let out a beep sound and I took the food back to my room, where I could finish where I left off.