Waves~Harry fanfic

Chapter 21

"You've got to be joking." I stared at the old hippie van in my driveway. It's a ruby red color, which reminds me of the red Ed's cheeks would turn when I would embarass him, or make him feel uncomfortable by saying something completely inappropraite or outrageous. Harry patted the hood of  the red volkswagen, and smiled.

"My dear Melinda, why would I joke about something as amazing as this van?"

I rolled my eyes and slid open the van's side door to put my bags inside. My eyes grew wide as the inside's floor was carpeted with an shaggy 1970's looking carpet. There were three bean bag chairs, two red, and the other, purple. Below each window were The Grateful Dead, Jimi Hendrix, and The WHO posters. Each window also had tie-dyed curtains.

"Harry, where did you get this van?" I asked as I poked at the old carpet.

"Bought it."

"From where?"

"A group of hippies, duh."

He threw the rest of my luggage inside, then packed in his own. 

"Great." I rolled my eyes, and he opened the passenger door for me, all gentlemen-like. 

"Ready to go my lady?"

"I'm not your lady." I poked his cheek before getting into the musty smelling van. He shut the door, and ran around the front of the van to get to the driver's side. I rolled the window down manually, and rested my arm outside of it. Harry started the car, and it shook a bit. I bit my lip nervously. How was this death trap on wheels going to last an entire year? 

About ten minutes later, after Harry struggled to drive up the steep San Francisco hills, we were on the golden gate bridge. I could feel the anxiety start to take over my body as the thought of leaving my home for an entire year consumed my thoughts. Everything was happening so fast-Ed leaving, Harry coming into my life, my grandmother getting sicker and sicker, my grandfather's guitar being stolen, and now I'm supposed to enjoy a spontaneous road trip with a curly haired weirdo I've only known for a couple of weeks. I could feel a lump in my throat as I thought of my grandmother, and my grandfather's guitar. Maybe I should tell Harry to just forget about the road trip, and take me to see my grandmother. My grandmother was the only one that was ever on my side, when I was a kid. She is the only person that knows the whole story of why I left, and what that sick bastard Ron did to me. Adam knows half of it, and yet he still acts like nothing happened. I turned to music to escape the darkness that started to grow inside of me.

"Mel?" Harry said, waking me from my day dream. 

"Yeah?"

"Do you still hate Taylor?" 

I was confused for a second. Why would he bring her up all of a sudden.

"Of course. The barbie doll stole my guitar."

"But how do you know for sure?"

"I just have a gut feeling."

"Has your gut ever been wrong?" 

I frowned at him. He gripped onto the steering wheel tightly. 

"Never."

"Well this time, I say your gut is way off." He smirked.

I kicked my feet up onto the dash board.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." He smirked again, making his dimples appear.

"So, we're on the road. Are you going to tell me where our first stop is now?" I turned the knob on the radio, looking for something to listen to. As if the universe was trying to ruin my life, Taylor's "Love story" came on. Harry turned the volume up, full blast.

"Harry! Turn it down!"

Instead, he rolled his window down, and started singing along, loudly and slightly off key.

"Harry I swear to God, I'm going to kill you!" I tried to speak over the loud music. I kept trying to reach for the volume knob, but every time I did, Harry smacked my hand away.

"Knock it off, I'm trying to drive, and this is my jam!" He yelled. I covered my ears with my hands, which made Harry laugh. When the song finally ended,(I swear it seemed like it was on forrreevverrr) Harry turned the volume down, and glanced at me, grinning.

"Will you tell me now?" I asked. He ignored me, and continued to grin. I rolled my eyes, and took out my phone. A new text message, a picture message, from an unknown message. I opened it, and my jaw literally dropped.

"Harry..."

"Yes?"

"What is my grandfather's guitar doing in Arizona?" I stared at the photo on my screen. There it was, my grandfather's guitar, leaning against a "Welcome to Arizona" sign. Tears swelled up in my eyes. I thought I'd never see it ever again.

"I guess that's our first stop." Harry chuckled. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and punched Harry's arm. The car swerved.

"Hey, watch it! I'm driving!"

I stared down at my phone. How did my grandfather's guitar get to Arizona? What was Styles up to?