Castaway

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Calum

My head is pounding.

And that's not even the worst of it.

I'm not quite sure what happened last night, but I do recall having a couple of beers with the guys on the tour bus for a few. I remember passing into Rhode Island and Luke getting excited about a vineyard. And that's where I black out.

The one relatively conscious decision I've made is to get up from my spot on the gorgeous redhead's floor. The short girl shot up also, having tripped over my ankle and waking me not minutes before.

Now, she scampers over to the far wall and turns on the lights in the room. Her long red hair flows down her back and sways side to side with every step she takes. Her large glasses are askew on her dainty nose and she moves behind me to start a pot of coffee. She doesn't seem to be awfully fazed that I'm here. I collapse into one of her stools at the island, leaning my forehead against the cool marble.

Behind me, I hear her rummaging around on the counter. The smell of fresh coffee fills the large kitchen, adding to the scent of roses wafting in through the open patio door. I lift my head from the island.

A white ceramic mug is pushed toward me and I wrap my fingers around it. There's a black and white French bulldog painted on the side; the head of the dog is the handle for the mug. "Do you have a dog?" I ask, trying to fill the silence with normal conversation and pull the mug closer and sipping the delectable coffee. The redhead lifts her head from her mug with her blue eyes wide. She finally looks as starstruck as I expected her to be in the first place.

It takes her a while to snap back into reality. "Used to," she says, rubbing her fingers along the rim of her mug."He was a black French bulldog. My dad brought him home from the shelter one day and we kept him."

I nod and sip on my coffee again. "What happened to him?"

"My dad died and Mom couldn't bear to keep Indigo for much longer. He's with my cousins in Vermont now." I flash her a sympathetic smile and she smiles back, revealing pearly white teeth.

I'm surprised at how she spills her life to me. I expected her to be speechless, especially since she's wearing a 'lol ur not michael clifford' sweatshirt.

"I know I'm not. He's not as cool as me, though." I blurt, regretting it almost automatically afterward. A frown tugs at the corner of her lips. "Your sweatshirt," I pause and revel in the bright smile that appears on her face. She lets out a loud laugh, throwing her head back.

"You're funny Calum Hood," she says after her laughing fit - which reduced me to chuckles just watching her.

"Why thank you..." I pause, realizing I don't know her name.

"Aleena; but Aleena is retarded so everyone just calls me Ally." I smile.

"Well then, thank you Aleena." Aleena glares at me and I sip my coffee, feigning innocence. "What? I don't think it's retarded. I like it."

Aleena laughs again, but this time, it's lighter somehow. "It's retarded." She stands up from her stool and goes to pour her coffee into the sink behind me. I swivel to face her and frown at the black mound of mush piled in the sink next to her. "At least in Rhode Island, it is."

Rhode Island. Hopefully, I'm not that far from the guys. "Where exactly in Rhode Island is the name Aleena retarded?" Aleena - there's no way that I'm calling her Ally - turns around to face me, her fingers still wrapped around her now empty mug.

"Block Island; only 13 miles from the mainland!" She says the words out with such forced enthusiasm that a smile splits across my face momentarily.

"Wait. 13 miles?" Aleena nods, tilting her head to the side. "That's what, a two-hour drive?"

"More or less. But you took the ferry here." She places the mug down and takes a hesitant step forward.

"How did you-"

"All ferry riders get a ticket stub to go on. Yours is on your shirt." I look down. Sure enough, a small square of paper is taped down onto my Nirvana smiley-face shirt.

"You're observant."

"Well, it's hard not to be when the bassist from your second favorite band is standing in your kitchen." I raise my eyebrows and Aleena sets the mug on the counter next to her. She crosses her arms across her chest, making her boobs look great - if I may say so myself.

"Second favorite band?" She nods.

"The 1975 and Twenty One Pilots are both first. You guys and Good Charlotte my number twos."

"I'm honored to be close to Good Charlotte in your rankings." Aleena smiles at me and cocks her head to the side.

"My brother hates that you are, though." She rolls her eyes and leans her elbows back on the sink's edge.

"Ah. He's a hater." She frowns and shakes her head violently, looking surprised that I even mentioned it.

"He loves you guys. He's more into the celebrity of it all, though, whereas I am interested in the musicians and the music." I nod and our eyes met for a split second. Her flattering and slightly revealing words echo in my head. I'm interested in the musicians.

Blushing, Aleena averts her eyes. "So, how'd you get here anyways?"

I laugh and place my mug down. "All I remember is being in the tour bus on our way to New York and Luke being weird." She lets out a breathy laugh, her hand flying to her chest.

"Isn't he always being weird?"

I smile sadly and turn my attention to the floor. It's funny how since I've spent so much time with those three guys I miss them when I'm not - even for just a few hours. "Yeah," I whisper. "He is."

"Sorry," I look up. Aleena's sea blue eyes are boring into mine, a genuine look of apology etched in hers. "This is an awful way to spend a 20th birthday."

"To be honest? It isn't the worst. I could get used to you." Aleena blushes and brushes her red hair out of her eyes. Yeah, I think. I could totally get used to her.

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a/n:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAL-BEAR WE LOVE YOU SO GD MUCH. KIWIKIWIKIWIKIWI OH MY SMOL CHILD I LOVE YOU LIKE UGHHH. GOD I CAN'T BELIEBE HE'S 20.

and also congrats louis on your baby choncobar (or jacob or sydney rain or whatever tf his name is) tomlinson.

okay sorry if this was short.

kisses.

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