i don't even understand why evelyn thought this would be a good idea. i hate england. i hate the girls, i hate the guys, i hate the cold weather; i want to go home.
a fleeting thought enters my head that maybe, just maybe, i hate the idea of england and not the actual physical place.
that's stupid.
i do know for a fact that i hate these damn southern accents. i'm so sick of south carolina; maybe england will be positive; a break from that part of america and the people there.
'okay, girls, listen up,' our handsome devil of a guide speaks up from the seat beside me. he's propped himself up on his knees and is scanning the bus for any distracted passengers. but trust me when i say, they're all listening. he's too charming.
'we have about another hour and a half 'til we reach the hotel, and once we get there we-'
'why did you choose a hotel so far away from where we landed?' i smirk up at him, and those fucking eyes meet mine and i try so hard to maintain composure.
'i didn't choose the hotel, it's the only one close enough with a vacancy big enough for twenty-three girls. that answer your question?'
i nod, satisfied.
ever since i snapped at our guide, harry, he's been ever so nervous around me. scared to make a wrong move, in case i fire something else at him. the whole bus ride so far, he's kept his legs and body at least six inches away from me. if he so much as relaxed his leg and it bumped into mine, he'd pull it back into him and look dead ahead like it didn't happen.
i intended on scaring him, yes, but not this much. and i can't ignore the jolt of some unknown electrical current that slips through me every time his knee hits mine.
the inner me wants to flirt and be cheeky with him, until his hand finds my thigh and his breath hits my neck. but i know what people can be like; i've experienced one too many fucked up relationships and i don't intend on letting my guard down anytime soon.
i will not be toyed with. or broken.
•
•
we reach the hotel before i thought we would, due to the roads being quieter than normal. harry tells me that sundays are pretty slow for traffic in general, but the emptiness of the roads even shocked him.
he seemed to calm himself and relax a little more into the idea of sitting beside a smart-ass teenager with attitude. he'd even let his knee rest against mine, occasionally sitting his hand atop the slight hole in his jeans. it's heat had radiated onto my leg and i struggled the entire time against the desire to grab his hand and move it up the ripped fabric of my tights.
my thoughts are pierced with a high-pitched squeal, emanating from the back of the group. it seems one of the girls dropped her phone and it now has a minuscule crack in the bottom corner.
these superficial, problematic drama queens will be the death of me. these five months will not go well if i am forced to be around these other girls for much longer.
this is why i'm ecstatic when i overhear the hotel's concierge explaining to harry that we will all have our own seperate rooms.
'the inconvenience is that we've had to stretch all of you across a floor and, well; our hotel isn't designed to fit twenty-four people on the one floor. the largest number of rooms we have on a floor is twenty-two. so what we've done is book you out the entire second floor, and then because our third and fourth floors are completely booked out for this week, we've given you two more rooms on the fifth floor. does this sound good to you?' the concierge nods at harry expectantly, and harry smiles.
