Dares

My Girlfriend

Faith's POV:

The morning of the flight...

I woke up to my phone ringing. I groan and answer, "What do you want? It's too early."

"Hi Faith, this is Luke and we have to be at the airport in an hour so Calum and I will be there in thirty to forty-five minutes," Luke says quickly into the phone.

"Oh shit," I mumble.

"Everything okay over there?"

"Um, um yes everything is going great I'll see you in a bit," I say hanging up the phone.

How the hell did I forget about this damn trip to Paris. It's the only good thing I've been able to think about this week and I forgot. I take a deep breath and jump out of bed. I run to my closet and grab the first 12 shirts I can see. I can do laundry... and when all else fails...Luke has clothes.

I fold the shirt and place them on my bed, running to my dresser. I grab 2 pairs of black skinny jeans, 1 pair of blue skinnies, and 2 pairs of distressed, loose, blue jeans. I throw those on my bed and run back to my closet. This is Paris, the city of love, and I'm going with my.. What do you even call us? What we are? The person I'm seeing? Anyway, I need something nice for any special occasion.

I flip through my clothes and decide to go with my short, blush pink, dress that reaches about mid-thigh and has loose, long sleeves that clamp down around my wrists. Good enough right?

I toss it on my bed along with all of my other clothes and run back to my dresser. Yes, I should have been more organized and smart with the way I do this shit but I'm not so we're trying. I grab 2 pairs of grey sweats and 3 of my Calvin Klien sports bras. Baby, we are getting comfortable. I grab some of my old soccer shorts and toss them on my bed.

After grabbing my underwear, bras, and anything else I might need I decide that it might be nice to have a suitcase. I run out in the halls and into my dad's room and yell, "I NEED A SUITCASE!!"

He jumps up from his bed and rushed to his closet, grabbing his grey suitcase. I kiss him on the cheek and thank him. Then running back into my room. I look at the time, he texted me at 6:20, it's now 6:40, I have about 10-20 minutes left until they get here.

I fold up all my clothes as nicely as possible and stack them in my suitcase. I look at the space that is leftover and rush across the hall, into the bathroom. I swing a drawer open to grab my tampons, medicine, and even pads. I'd rather be safe than sorry. I grab my hair straightener and run back into my room. I stuff these things along the side trying to preserve as much of the space as we can.

I run back over to my dresser and grab my Black Nike sweat, and a matching, grey, Nike cropped shirt. I pull the shirt on over my head, like how you should always be putting on shirts, and groan as I realize I still have to do my hair.

I run back over to the bathroom and quickly brush my teeth and toss my toothbrush/toothpaste in a plastic back. I look at my hair and decide to simply brush it out and pin up the sides. There we don't have to stress ourselves out anymore.

I spray my hair and walk back over to my room. I fold up my blanket and shove it in my suitcase. I look at the time once again to see that it's now 6:55. Sweet I have just enough time to get my shoes on and quickly pack a carry on bag. I pull on my all black Vans slides and grab my mini backpack. I grab my wallet, favorite book, The Hunger Games, my phone chargers, earbuds, and walk over to my bed to grab my phone. I double-check to make sure that I have music and a few movies downloaded and grab my suitcase.

I walk down the stairs and place my suitcase/carry on bag by the door and run over to the cupboards. "Passport, passport, passport," I mumble to myself as I destroy our neatly organized cupboards.