The Boy Who Stayed (Louis Tomlinson)

Chapter 7: Craziness, Party Preparations and Veena

A/N: (2/3/14) I just noticed that plot hole. Fixed it, though I doubt anyone would care. ;) -J

~

Patricia Hollister

Louis and I stood in silence because I couldn’t find the words to say anything; I simply continued glowering at an imaginary picture of Harry.

My face must’ve looked so intense that Louis really had to go to the next room, find my old cymbals and clap them in front of my face. I’m going to go deaf.

“Sha-Sha, are you okay?” He let the cymbals drop to the floor with a bang. Okay, good, I’m not deaf. “You look like you want to roast someone over a fire, cover them with barbecue sauce and feed them to the dogs.” He paused. “Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating, but you do look a little mad.”

I shook my head. “Ah, it’s nothing. Harry is just really annoying, but that’s nothing new.” I laughed. “Anyway, shall we blow up the pool?”

~~

“Do you think we could turn it inside out and it’d still be functional?”

Louis shook his head. For the past few minutes I’d been trying to look for ways to hide the fact that images of Fred Flintstone and his family were printed on the outside. I now remembered that I had owned it since I was six, back when I was a huge fan of the show.

“But wouldn’t you still see the Flintstones on it once you get into the pool?” He raised an eyebrow.

I pouted and threw an apple at him.

He caught it and took a bite. “Thanks. Gotta keep regular levels of . . . err, what vitamin do apples give you?”

“Wait, wait, I got this. . . .” I began to look for the information in my brain. I came up short. Why don’t brains have built-in Google? Ugh, I learned this in like, second grade . . . which is probably why I don’t remember it. I sighed. “We should probably pump air into this.”

My phone beeped after I said that. I checked it and saw a text from Harry.

Hey, Pat. Just checking. Regular coke, coke light or coke zero? No pepsi. Don’t tell management. :D –Haz

I laughed and sent a text back.

Coke light please, I’m on a diet. -Pat

After I sent that text, Louis wanted to know whom I was texting. I said no, and he grabbed my phone and texted Harry, too. Oh, joy.

Wonder why she’s on a diet. She’s as thin as a twig. Not even a sexy twig. –Lou

I am not thin. In fact, with all the food you guys have been giving me (and you’ve only been here like, a day) I think I’ve gained at least three pounds. –Pat

Damn, she’s found out our plan to fatten her up and turn her into Sha-Sha soup. Abort. Abort. Delete this text immediately after you get it. This text will self-destruct in five seconds. Five, four, three, two- boom! –Lou

We'd sent a lot more texts, but Harry didn't reply anymore. So I made Louis help me assess the current situation.

“Wait, let me try.” I grabbed the pool by its fabric-like covering and placed part of it onto my lap. I turned it around to find the nozzle that blow air into, uncapped it and put it into my mouth. Is there any other way you can put it without sounding weird? No, I don’t think there is another way.