One Word | H.S.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Storm.

~

When someone has their arm around you, do you put your arm around them?

Harry continues to draw circles with his fingers, my arm being the canvas as neither of us have bothered to move from our position. My hands are clasped together, the pair of them rested on my lap as I question whether or not I should do something.

Maybe, I can braid his hair?

You wonder why your middle school boyfriend left you for Lucy.

Pretty Boy has been silent since his confession, the notion that he is equally as crazy deafening the noisy pouring rain swallowing us.

If we are being oh-so-honest, I can take pride in the fact that I've known the tea-bag has already been riding the train to LooneyTown for a while.

That train is going to crash if you are the only two on it.

I want to say something, break the semi-uncomfortable silence, but I feel as though our linked position is louder than any spoken word.

"Presley?" I hear my name over the rain, my eyes going wide as I recognize my best friend's voice. There is no telling how long Harry and I have been sat on the side of this car, but if Cade and Mia see this, they may faint.

Hell, if I saw this, I'd already be six feet under.

Wait, how does one look at themselves? Please, for the love of dick, see it.

The pair of them know us as enemies, and though we haven't embarked on a voyage of complete cordialness, there hasn't been a screaming match.

Nominate Pretty Boy and Red for the Nobel Peace Prize.

Harry whips his head down to me, his eyes wide as his lips part slightly. Stands of hair are littered on his drenched forehead as I shake my head slowly, apprehension controlling us as he tightens his hold around my arm. 

I shoot my head in every direction, eventually nodding it down to the small space that exists between the bottom of the vehicle and the wet pavement, "Come on," I urge Harry, my body breaking from his grasp as I attempt to crawl under the car.

See, if I was a normal-functioning human being, I would tell Mia and Cade that we were merely speaking to the other, settling our differences as the rain did nothing but add to the moment.

But here I am, my thighs scraping from sharp rocks as I try to fit into the small crevice. My hands are placed in front of me, maneuvering my body in a stealthy manner as my nonexistent ass makes this whole getaway easier. 

"No," Harry places his hands on my waist, attempting to pull me back as I hold onto the flat pavement for dear life, "We are not hiding under the fucking car, Red." He whisper-shouts, the top of my head clashing with the engine as I whip in his direction.

Until he presents a better idea, I'm going to continue morphing into the mindset of a cat, hiding under vehicles in the wintertime as they shelter themselves.

Presley the Pussy.

He continues to yank me back, the calls of our names growing louder as I squirm in his hold, "Harry?" Cade's voice bellows, the two of us freezing on spot.

Is it illegal to fake a death?

Only a few moments of stillness pass, panic setting in as I continue to dive deeper under the car. Harry latches onto my leg like the leech he is, nearly detaching it from my body, "We have to run," he exclaims, his voice sounding profound.