We continue to stare. My reason is due to the fact that his hair was way too curly, but that complimented his unusual dimples that never stopped tempting my eyes.
"Where you from?" I spit out. Yes Robin because that's not a creepy question to randomly ask whatsoever, my subconscious mocks.
"Umm... Woah, that was quite unexpected. Why are you asking though?" He looks at me as if I just murdered a cat but he later calms down and wait for my anticipated reply.
"Well... I have no idea. I just assumed you weren't from this area due to your accent. You sound rather smart, unlike the crackheads that live around this area. So yes, once again, where are you from?" I answered.
He sat there, probably amazed at how fast I made this explanation. I smirked.
"You've got quite the mouth there. You're insanely direct!" He leaned back, even more amazed.
"It's okay, you don't need to answer it." I withheld, my confidence fading.
"No, no. This doesn't stop me from answering your question, I just wanted to know your motive."
"Motive?"
"There's always a motive behind everything, Robin. Whether conscious or unconscious. Motives are present." He grins. His eyes turned to the empty road that hardly had any life in it.
"No need to worry, you've explained your motive already." He added.
I thought about what he'd said and realized that I did in fact explain my motive without even realizing it.
"Oh." I said.
"Anyways, yes, I'm from England."
"That's cool, why'd you move anyway?"
"Reasons." He seemed almost nervous and uncomfortable as if he was hiding something from me. I shrugged it off and tried to think of something else to talk about.
This is in fact another skill I have not managed to develop. Conversation. Just ask him where he lives, or something. No that's too personal for someone you just met, I explain to my subconscious.
"Don't you have papers to deliver?" I blurt.
"You asked me that, remember. And true, I do have papers to deliver. I kind of feel offended now. Is my company seriously that terrible?" He frowns.
"No it's not that, it's just..."
"No worries, I'll leave. Have fun with the RedBull can. I'm sure it will be very good comp-"
"I'm bad at conversations, okay? I live in a house where nobody likes me and ever wants to hear my voice. I don't know how to talk to people." I interrupt.
"Oh. Sorry, I didn't know. Wow. Can I tell you something, something weird?"
"Yeah, sure."
"The fact that you don't know how to talk to people is one of the cutest things I have ever heard." He grins.
I blush at the sound of those words. Me? Cute? Those words have never been put into a sentence together. They seem so foreign to me.
"Why, thank you." My blush turns into a smile. I can't help but to turn my head and shuffle away from him, due to my never-ending smile growing larger and larger.
"There's no need to hide Robin. Smiling is a good thing to do. Shying away from it isn't."
"Really? Well I'll try not to."
"Hey, can I ask you a weird question?" I add.
"I kinda feel like I'll regret it, but okay."
"Could you teach me how to... you know... Talk?"
"What?" He laughs.
"Hey, it's a serious question." I join his contagious laugh.
"Please." I frown, stopping my laughter.
"I'm not exactly an expert on it, Robin." He is still laughing.
"It's better than what I know already. Definitely." I assure.
"Alright. I guess what I can tell you to do is to-"
An unwanted creak informs me that the front door has been opened. Oh no. Crap. I pray it isn't-
"Hello. And who might you be?" I tremble at the sound of Mrs. Bernardes' voice. It immediately reminds me that Harry will never talk to me again after he meets her.
"I'm Harry. Harry Styles." He stands up and takes out his hand to greet her but she ignores his kind gesture.
"The paperboy, right?" She hisses, mercilessly.
"I'd prefer to be called by my real name." Harry fires.
Oh crap. He can't talk to her like that. He's in major trouble now. Why did he have to open his mouth. I could have handled it-or so I thought.
"Robin, where did you meet this young...man?"
"He was just delivering papers...and uhh...came down and sat here on the porch." I stutter.
"I see." She smirks and I hope Harry chooses to keep quiet now.
"I came to comfort her because you kicked her out of her home." He affirms.
"Harry..." I groan.
I want to tell him to shut up because he doesn't know what he's talking about. I swear, one more word and I...I...I don't know.
"Her house. Interesting. Last time I checked, it was mine!" She growls and glares at Harry.
"She's obviously part of it, making it her own as well. How can you be such a terrible mother?" He defends.
I freeze at those words. He didn't just say that. God no.
"Wait, she hasn't told you?" She smirks again.
"Told me what?"
"I'm not her mother. We're not even related."
He turns his face to me, shocked and unsure what to say.
"Robin, are you an orphan?"
A/N:
(Finally done with this chapter. Ooohh, so Harry has found out huh? THINGS ARE ABOUT TO GET PHYSICAL. Jk!! Ahaha :)
Anyway, VOTE, COMMENT, FOllow. Danke (randomly saying thank you in German. Don't know why). Hope you enjoyed. :)
YOU ARE READING
46th Street
Teen Fiction"Happiness depends on the quality of your thoughts." He repeated. ~ It sucks enough not knowing your parents, living around people who don't like you and a harsh Foster mom. That's the life of Robin Grover: lonely, sad, confused and anti-social. A...
