A Year Full Of Surprises

A Year Full Of Surprises - Chapter Thirteen.

Chapter Thirteen…

When we got to his car, he slammed his door and I tried to shut mine softly. Mr. Armstrong fired up the engine and set off driving straight away. We didn’t talk and I knew he was trying to calm down. He had looked really angry at Harry. I also had no idea as to where we were actually going. 

I decided not to interrupt him though and allow him to breathe while I sat still. The radio was on quietly, so I focused my attention on that instead. 

We pulled up at a rather fancy looking apartment block. Not, the queen could live here fancy, but definitely not scruffy. I figured this must be where Mr. Armstrong lived. Oh god. This was even more inappropriate then him coming to my house. I was sure about that. 

He cut the engine off and turned to look at me, looking kind of sheepish. I smiled slightly and then followed him as he got out of his car and walked towards the apartment building. 

We still didn’t really speak and I walked beside him as he navigated his way to the second floor. After unlocking his apartment and allowing me to walk in, I was stunned into silence anyway. His apartment was nice. It wasn’t particularly big, but it was immaculate. The furniture didn’t look overly expensive, but it looked amazing regardless. “Wow. Your place is nice.” I commented, looking over to where he was standing, looking slightly smug. 

“Thanks.” He replied, grinning. 

I laughed and went to sit on one of his comfy-looking sofas. I was right. I sank into it and almost moaned in delight. My couches are lumpy and very uncomfortable. They are so old you can feel the springs when you sit on them. 

“I think I’m going to come and live on your sofa.” I teased. 

He sat on the couch opposite mine and chuckled. “They’re not that comfy.” 

“They are compared to mine.” I contradicted. 

He laughed for a moment, before turning serious. I noticed the change immediately and sobered up as well. I was going to have to answer a lot of questions. Or certainly attempt to answer a lot anyway. I was as oblivious as Mr. Armstrong towards a lot of them. There were things I had never managed to get out of my parents.

“Why didn’t you tell me your parents were addicts?” He asked, after a couple of minutes silence. He had been sat there for a while, looking like he was debating what to come out with, and now he’d said it, he looked like he was kicking himself mentally. 

It didn’t bother me though. If he was going to be questioning me, I would rather he was up front. I shrugged. “I didn’t tell anyone. At all.” Was my only response. 

That was true. I hadn’t told a soul. Not a single person. I didn’t want this to get around and I didn’t trust Mel enough to keep the secret. I know that doesn’t make me much of a friend, but when it’s something this important, I wasn’t bothered how much of a good friend I was. “You haven’t told anyone?” He repeated, seeming disbelieving. “Not even Melissa?”