my crush harry styles:)

~chapter 5~

~chapter 5~

hiii this is chapter 5:) its kindov long and boring sorry!! but next chaper should be good hopefully:) xx

It stops raining, and the sun comes out and a big, beautiful arc of rainbow shimmers over the motorway. We stop at a service station for some food beasue am a hungry girl!!.

I fish around in my bag for the letters sent by jacks daughters, kacey, tee and lia, to tell me about themselves and make me welcome.

Tee's letter is written on black paper in a pinky gel pen and sprinkled with tiny silver stars; she tells me all about horoscopes and her addiction to jumble-sale dresses. Very odd. lia's is written in purple on black paper too, and her letter is all about how she loves ballet and dancing and how she dreams of learning to dance and being a ballerina one day. The last letter, kacey, is written in pencil am not going to lie but the writting was a little bit smudgy and on a torn bit of paper that looks as though it has fallen in a puddle, or been chewed by a dog, or possibly both. she seems to be obsessed with animals and climbing things, and tells me all about her ambition to have a llama, a donkey and a parrot as pets. that girl loooves animals. shes an animal love.

I'm not sure if the letters are comforting, exactly. i still feel a bit odd.

mum has met the girls, of course, a couple of times, on trips down to homes chapel, but she travelled midweek, using odd days off, and each time I was left in australia with the woman next door. I wish now I'd asked to meet them, once at least.

kacey is the tomboy, she reckons, and tee and lia are twins,OOoo cant wait to meet them there a year younger than me. There is another sister, amy, just a few months older than I am. 'jack says that amy didn't have time to write a letter,' mum explains. 'She's the eldest, six months older than you ... she's just finishing Year Nine at the high school. You'll be in the year below her, if everything works out. The younger girls are still at middle school ... that's the way the system is in homes chapel. i think amy doesnt like me. mums lying to me. but i cant judge her now can i.

'Anyway, amys had end-of-term exams to revise for, but I'm sure she's really excited about meeting you. She's very pretty, and clever, and confident ... I'm sure you'll be great friends!'

'Right,' I say.

'The English school holidays have only just started,'mum reminds me. 'So you'll have plenty of time to settle in and get to know the girls before you start school. An extra-long holiday ... brilliant, huh?'

'Yeah ... brilliant.'

I bite my lip. mum doesn't understand, really. I am not good at fitting in, making new friends. I am not pretty, or clever, or confident, and jacks children sound all of those things. Being part of a family is way more complicated than I imagined. I never expected sisters to be a part of the deal. Even their names make them sound rock-chick-cool. me well im just (y/n).

It's hours and hours before we finally turn off the M4 to bump along the quiet Exmoor lanes. I am tired and cramped and nervous, and even fluffy is looking slightly carsick.

We drive through the pretty village. The sun is still shining, as if it never does anything else in a place like this.

'Almost there,' mum says, and panic twists inside me. What if everything I ever wanted turns out to be a disappointment, like a Christmas present you've prodded and dreamed about ... and then when you open it, turns out it is a handknitted jumper, sludge-green and baggy and slightly lopsided?

I have a few jumpers like that, now that I think about it. mum is a big fan of charity-shop chic. It has taken me forever to work out what suits me, steering away from the baggy jumpers and finding refuge in primary-coloured skinny jeans and tight cartoon-print T-shirts and plastic bangles, all cheap as chips from Primark or New Look. I will never be a girly girl, but I look OK, except on the days I manage to decorate myself with jam stains or toast crumbs.