Shy // Calum Hood

*•Holidays•*

Important for this chapter!!!
(A/n)
Okay, so I know that in Australia they do celebrate Christmas in December as well, however for the sake of the story let's just pretend they have it in their winter, Thankyou!! 💕

Bailey's P.O.V.
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The final bell at long last rang out, signalling the end of term and time for the holidays. I was still extremely confused as to what holiday this was. For me it was Christmas, yet for everyone else it was just a summer holiday.
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I almost ran to my normal meeting spot to wait for Calum, I could not wait for the upcoming two weeks away from this nightmare. I felt as Calum's arms wrapped around me as he whispered "Guess who" into my eardrum.
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Ever since the kiss things hadn't been awkward at all, they'd just been an awful lot more touchy, but I wasn't complaining. I really, really liked him and had extremely strong feelings for him.
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"Can you explain this Christmas thing to me again? I'm confused." I whined as we walked down the pavement, away from all the crowds.
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He shook his head and chuckled before beginning to explain once more, before my phone interrupted him.
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"Sorry." I mumbled seeing it was my mother who was calling.
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"Hurry up and get home!" She barked as soon as I accepted the call.
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"I'm on my way." I responded, agitated at her bluntness.
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I heard the sound of a car door shutting through the receiver leaving me curious.
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"Where are you going?" I quizzed.
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"Away, me and your father are going to spend this holidays without any pestering children." She spat.
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"But mum . . . It's Christmas." I almost whispered into the receiver in disappointment.
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"Boohoo. Get over it, there's some money on the side for food, you should really be thanking me."
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"But-" I began but the harsh beeping cut me off.
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She had just hung up as usual.
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Calum raised his eyebrows and I knew he heard the conversation.
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"Do you want me to come over?" He asked kindly.
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I nodded my head, not in the mood to be alone, like I was apparently going to be on Christmas, especially since they didn't even celebrate it on the same day here.
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Calum's P.O.V.
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When we arrived at Bailey's house, it looked empty, her parents had almost packed all their belongings up, leading me to believe they weren't just going on holiday for a few weeks.
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Bailey however didn't seem phased by the lack of ornaments around the household. I followed her into the kitchen, grabbing an apple and biting out a juicy chunk.
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"What are you doing in the holidays?" Her elbows rested on the marble surface as she leaned forward quizzically.
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"I was wandering if you wanted to help me tick some stuff off of my bucket list?" I admitted hopefully.
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"That sounds great! Tell me more upstairs." She instructed as we trekked up the spiral staircase.
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I mirrored her steps as we entered her marvellous bedroom. The room was full of posters from my favourite bands and films, bringing the walls to life and making her space specific to her.
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My eyes darted from shiny poster to poster as I explained my plans for our holidays, from lying down on her bed. I felt the bed dip as Bailey sunk down next to me, eager to hear more about my ideas.
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"Hey do you want me to help you decorate?" I changed the topic.
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"Decorate for what?" She dumbly answered.
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"Decorate for Christmas dumbass."
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"I don't really want to . . . If I'm not going to have a Christmas what's the point in decorating?" She sighed, disappointed.
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Guilt pierced my stomach as I felt awful that Bailey's parents really didn't seem to care about her in the slightest form. Especially since she'd been blabbering on about Christmas for so long, I felt as though I was partly letting her down, despite the issue that this was in fact all her parents fault.
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"Decorating can be fun though right? You said that was one of your favourite parts!" I pressed, seriously trying to cheer her up.
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"Calum, it's sweet that your trying, but I really don't want to." her delicate voice explained.
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Instantly an idea hit me as I stood up from the squishy mattress.
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"I need the bathroom." I excused myself before sneaking off downstairs.
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I tiptoed towards the front door, heading to the dish that was always full of spare keys. Bailey had told me previously that her mum was obsessed with the idea that she could never have enough spare keys or she would be locked out one day and be forever unable to get back inside.
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My hand swirled around through the sea of carved metal shapes before I found the one I was looking for. The spare key to her back door.
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I shoved the cool metal into my pocket before racing back up the stairs innocently. Now all I had to do was wait a while . . .