Tourette's Syndrome ||h.s.||
Chapter 5
Thursday, April 2nd, 2015
Harry's house actually turned out to be two streets over from mine. The house like mine, was at the end of the street. His house was a small white house, with dark blue shutters, and a stone pathway that led to his front door.
"Welcome to my humble abode." He said opening the door.
My stomach just turned inside out. Am I really doing this?
"Harry is that you?" A voice called out.
"Shi- no it's a fucking burglar." He replied sarcasticly.
"I made you a snack." She said.
"Okay." He replied walking into the kitchen.
I followed behind him awkwardly.
"Mum this is Arabella, we are working on a project." He said.
"How nice to meat you!" His mom said.
"You too Mrs. Styles." I said.
"Call me Anne." She said wiping her hand on her apron.
"Okay." I said.
"There's some cookies on the counter and some juice boxes in the fridge." She said happily.
"Mom bark- ba ba bark! I'm not five." He said laughing.
"I know but don't deny your love for a juice box." She said laughing.
"Okay well we're going to get shit started." He said jerking his head.
He grabbed us the juice boxes and plate of cookies.
I followed him upstairs to his room. It was not as messy as I expected he had a few posters on the walls, a record player along with numerous records, and a keyboard.
"You can sit anywhere." He said gesturing around.
I sat my bag down and set on his made bed.
"So what are we gonna do for the speech?" I asked.
"Hell if I fucking know." He replied.
"I don't know either." I said.
After throwing around a couple ideas that were completely useless Harry got the weed.
"We are gonna need this." He said lighting the joint.
He held in the smoke and I could see him beginning to relax.
"Here." He said passing it to me and flipping me off.
I took it and breathed in the familiar substance. The smoke filled my lungs and I relaxed.
"Cunt!" He said shaking his head.
I handed the joint back to him.
***some joints and some hours later***
"What if we wrote shit about the importance of Michael Jackson being in a drug free environment?" He said trying to be serious.
I burst out laughing, that's hilarious.
"Do you play?" I asked randomly.
"Fuck! Play what?" He asked giggling.
His giggle was so cute.
"The piano dipshit." I said.
"Yes, I sing too." He said goofily.
"Sing to me." I said.
"Hell no." He said.
"Pleaseee?" I begged.
"Noooo." He responded.
"Please pretty pretty please!" I begged louder.
"Fine if you'll stop being so damn loud." He said.
He went over and sat on the quaint bench and placed his fingers.
"Pig fucker! " he shouted shaking his head.
I instantly recognized the song.
"My ship went down in a see of sound when I woke up alone I had everything, a handful of moments I wish I could change, a tounge like a nightmare that cut like a blade, in a city of fools I was careful and cool, but they tore me apart like a hurricane, and a handful of moments I wish I could change but I was carried away, give me therapy I'm a walking travesty, but I'm smiling at everything therapy you were never a friend to me you can keep all your misery..." He sang angelically.
He didn't tic once.
"I have an idea." I said once he finished.
"What? Fuc- la la la!" He asked ticing.
Harry's house actually turned out to be two streets over from mine. The house like mine, was at the end of the street. His house was a small white house, with dark blue shutters, and a stone pathway that led to his front door.
"Welcome to my humble abode." He said opening the door.
My stomach just turned inside out. Am I really doing this?
"Harry is that you?" A voice called out.
"Shi- no it's a fucking burglar." He replied sarcasticly.
"I made you a snack." She said.
"Okay." He replied walking into the kitchen.
I followed behind him awkwardly.
"Mum this is Arabella, we are working on a project." He said.
"How nice to meat you!" His mom said.
"You too Mrs. Styles." I said.
"Call me Anne." She said wiping her hand on her apron.
"Okay." I said.
"There's some cookies on the counter and some juice boxes in the fridge." She said happily.
"Mom bark- ba ba bark! I'm not five." He said laughing.
"I know but don't deny your love for a juice box." She said laughing.
"Okay well we're going to get shit started." He said jerking his head.
He grabbed us the juice boxes and plate of cookies.
I followed him upstairs to his room. It was not as messy as I expected he had a few posters on the walls, a record player along with numerous records, and a keyboard.
"You can sit anywhere." He said gesturing around.
I sat my bag down and set on his made bed.
"So what are we gonna do for the speech?" I asked.
"Hell if I fucking know." He replied.
"I don't know either." I said.
After throwing around a couple ideas that were completely useless Harry got the weed.
"We are gonna need this." He said lighting the joint.
He held in the smoke and I could see him beginning to relax.
"Here." He said passing it to me and flipping me off.
I took it and breathed in the familiar substance. The smoke filled my lungs and I relaxed.
"Cunt!" He said shaking his head.
I handed the joint back to him.
***some joints and some hours later***
"What if we wrote shit about the importance of Michael Jackson being in a drug free environment?" He said trying to be serious.
I burst out laughing, that's hilarious.
"Do you play?" I asked randomly.
"Fuck! Play what?" He asked giggling.
His giggle was so cute.
"The piano dipshit." I said.
"Yes, I sing too." He said goofily.
"Sing to me." I said.
"Hell no." He said.
"Pleaseee?" I begged.
"Noooo." He responded.
"Please pretty pretty please!" I begged louder.
"Fine if you'll stop being so damn loud." He said.
He went over and sat on the quaint bench and placed his fingers.
"Pig fucker! " he shouted shaking his head.
I instantly recognized the song.
"My ship went down in a see of sound when I woke up alone I had everything, a handful of moments I wish I could change, a tounge like a nightmare that cut like a blade, in a city of fools I was careful and cool, but they tore me apart like a hurricane, and a handful of moments I wish I could change but I was carried away, give me therapy I'm a walking travesty, but I'm smiling at everything therapy you were never a friend to me you can keep all your misery..." He sang angelically.
He didn't tic once.
"I have an idea." I said once he finished.
"What? Fuc- la la la!" He asked ticing.
Hope you liked it! Thanks for reading! -Dee xx
This book just brings me.such joy!
7/28/16