caught I h.s

Chapter 3

Dallas is blasting at full volume in the living room while I watch, lying full length on the couch with my feet up.

I can't concentrate though; my mind has drifted to other places than the TV show. Questions about Harry were slowly eating me up, and my inquisitive self needed some answers.

For one thing, why was he so worried about his USB and when I said I looked at it? He literally just had school folders and a couple of pictures on there, what was there to be worried about?

My mother interrupts my thoughts, calling out that dinner is ready. I heave myself off the couch and pause the TV, walking down the stairs to the dining room.

"I'm going to have to get you to go grocery shopping soon, Scarlett," Mum says. "We're quick running out of food."

I look down at the disappointing microwave dinner set in front of me, mumbling in agreement. "Okay. Is there a supermarket near here?"

"Just down the road," she replies. "You'll find it easily."

I nod to show my understanding, settling down to eat my dinner.

"Oh, Delilah called as well, while you were at school. I think she's still getting used to the 12 hour time difference, but could you call her back after dinner?"

I nod again, my mouth full of food. I'm secretly glad I'll be calling my sister, mainly because I miss her; but also because I may or may not want to ask for her advice about Harry.

I eat quickly, and put my plate in the dishwasher when I'm finished.

"Thanks for dinner."

Mum laughs. "Trust me, I didn't do much, but you're welcome."

I walk over to the kitchen bench and pick up my phone which is lying precariously on the edge. While dialing my sisters number, I check the clock situated above the stove top.

7:00pm. It would be 7:00am the next day back in New Zealand, so she'd probably be asleep. Sucks for her, I'm calling anyway.

"Scarlett? This better be important," a muffled voice says, heavy with sleep.

"Double D!" I chant, referring to the nickname she had been given a while ago because of her initials; Delilah Dorchester.

"Oh my god, half way around the world and you're still calling me that?" Delilah says incredulously. "You know I hate it."

"No, I know you love it deep down," I grin.

She groans. "I love it so much I don't even know it myself," she says sarcastically.

I laugh.

"Anyway," she changes the subject. "I'm guessing Mum told you to call. How have you been? How was the flight over? All settled down okay?"

"Got it in one," I reply. "Yeah, it was pretty good. Long, as expected, but good. I slept most of the way."

"Of course you did."

"School and life in general has been all right so far I guess, it's pretty similar to NZ which is weird but good at the same time."

We talk a bit more about our lives since the move, Delilah telling me all the gossip about the old lady down the road who had just recently bought her thirteenth cat. I laugh lightly, amused by my own reminiscing of the 'crazy cat lady', as we used to call her.

We banter back and forth before I ask her for my much needed boy advice.

"So, Delilah," I start. "I have some questions for you. Firstly, there's this boy who is in my Biology class, and I kinda like him. A bit."