cherry (h.s)

fourteen

Charlotte Thompson

"What?" I question as Harry scrambles to pack our bags. I had literally just gotten out of the shower, hair wet and everything.

"I said we need to go!" he says, seeming rushed and frustrated.

"D-did something happen?" I ask, growing more worried.

"They're gonna come after us. We've gotta go somewhere else." He didn't even glance at me, simply rushing around the room trying to get everything together.

"How do they know we're here? How do you know they're coming?" I ask as I grab my bag from him.

"I just do. C'mon we're leaving." he says, taking his bag and going towards the door.

His secrecy was freaking me out, but I had no other choice but to trust him.

We step out onto the second floor balcony and rush down the stairs.

"We have to pay for the night or else they'll send the cops after us." he says as we approach the car. He throws everything in the back and tells me to get in while he goes to pay.

I nervously sit in the car, my legs bouncing up and down as anxiety overwhelms me. I couldn't stop jittering.

I look around to try and distract myself, but I notice something in the backseat. A white envelope to be exact.

I furrow my brows and lean over the seat to grab it. It had already been opened.

I quickly glance up to see if Harry was coming out. When the coast appeared to be clear, I open up the envelope.

I don't know exactly what I was expecting to see, but what I did end up seeing made my heart drop.

It was a picture of Harry and I, taken from a fair distance away. We were walking into our motel room.

So someone was watching us all night. That's why we had to leave.

I felt my heart race as I threw the envelope back into the seat and tapped my feet nervously waiting for Harry to return.

When he finally walks out of the main office, I feel a little bit relieved. He ran to the car, jumping quickly and speeding off. In just moments, we were out of the motel parking lot.

It was like Harry didn't even have an injured shoulder. He wasn't even acknowledging it. He was so strange in that way. He doesn't care about his health, which is odd considering how self centered he is.

When we get onto the highway, he digs into his pocket with one hand and takes out a pack of cigarettes.

He puts one in his mouth, between his teeth and then rolls down the window and grabs a lighter from the other pocket, lighting the cig with the same hand.

Watching him inhale the smoke made me slightly envious. I wasn't a big smoker, but when I was stressed it helped a lot.

"Harry?" I ask.

He glances at me. "Mhm?" he says, unable to talk because of the cigarette in his mouth.

"C-can I have one?" I question quietly and unsurely.

He looks at me and furrows his brows, grabbing the smoke with one hand and taking it out of his mouth. "You smoke?"

I shrug. "A little."

He looks down at his own cigarette, then back at me, then back at the road.

He passes his smoke towards me. "Here. We'll share." he says.