When Lu comes home from uni finding something she didn't expect, she packed her bags and left. Little did she know she'd be seeing him again. As much as things were awkward and he definitely didn't deserve it after what he did, she couldn't help fal...
Without actually letting my eyes focus on Simon's text, I rather looked at the time. It was 10 in the evening. I hesitatingly tapped in my passcode and opened his text, contemplating whether I should block his number or not.
But when I saw his text, that thought immediately disappeared.
Simon: I still have some Polaroid photos of us? Do you want them?
I felt my heart sink. Even though I told Sarah I didn't believe a word she said about Simon still liking me, part of me was still hoping he did. But now that he's getting rid of things, I guess he didn't feel like that. I typed back straight away, knowing he would have seen that I read his message.
Me: Sure.
I didn't really know what else to add.
Simon: come pick them up?
I sighed, not wanting to sneak out of the house at this hour. I mean, my car was parked downstairs and I could easily drive there real quick, but I don't think I'd want Saz and Frey to know where I was heading. They'd be suspicious, and would definitely want to come with me, and then we'd all end up staying there for longer than I felt comfortable with.
I quickly glanced down at what I was wearing: a baby pink night gown with white knee-high wool socks because it was December and it was cold outside. I could easily pull it off as a bit of a revealing dress, with a pair of old, dirty converse. After all, I was just picking up some photos, and I'd be off again, right? If I was lucky, I wouldn't even need to get out of the car.
I got up off my bed and tiptoed down the hallway. I walked past Frey's and Sarah's closed doors as quietly as I could, since they probably assumed I was already asleep. I put on my winter coat and slipped on my converse, fumbled around my pockets to check I had my car keys and flat keys, and then I was off.
What the hell are you doing? Are you really doing this? For some polaroid photos. Couldn't he have driven over? You're crazy. Go back, you're tired and you don't even want to see him anyway. There's no point. It'll only hurt you more. Go back.
My little matte black Fiat 500 struggled to start up it's engine because of the cold, even if it was parked in the garage of the building. But once it was up and running, I drove out quickly, my tyres making a loud squeaking noise on the floor.
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I pulled up next to the brand new Sidemen house and parked right outside their door. I stepped out and locked my car, quickly running up to their door and knocking several times because I didn't want to be standing outside in the cold for too long.
I pulled up next to the brand new Sidemen house and parked right outside their door. My first thought was to think of a way of staying inside the car so they wouldn't have to see what I was wearing. The only solution to that was to honk, but at this time of day, I don't think anyone would appreciate it.
