Ru knew the world was cruel; she learned that the hard way. She thought that she was the only one, but when she met Luke Hemmings and then Calum Hood, everything changed.


19. 18.

Chapter 18


Month 16. Day 20.


I haven’t spoken to Luke in three whole days. I still cannot believe that he thinks he can boss me around and tell me to go back to therapy. Who does he think he is?


Today, I’m stuck home alone with Calum. Well not stuck: more like, the boys wanted to go play paintball but Calum had a therapy appointment right when they left and I’m not interested in huge sores on my body, so we decided to keep each other company. Currently, we’re sitting on his bedroom floor playing Go Fish. I tried to teach Calum how to play Hand and Foot, but he wasn’t getting the hang of it.


“Do you have a 2?” he asks and I shake my head.


“Go fish.” He grabs a card from the pile and puts it in his hand. “Do you have a Queen?”


He narrows his eyes at me, “I think you’re cheating.” He hands me a Queen and I laugh.


“How can you cheat at Go Fish?”


“You could have looked at my cards when I went to the bathroom.” He says with a shrug.


I roll my eyes. “No I couldn’t have, you took them to the bathroom with you! And besides, who cheats at Go Fish at this age?”


He looks at me. “I do what I have to.”


I laugh. “Do you have a 6?”


“Go fish!” He makes this noise as if he just won the lottery and I roll my eyes again. I pull a card out of the pile and smirk.


“I got a 6.” He groans and I laugh again. “Do you have a 4?”


“Go fish.”


The game goes on for another half hour, with me (of course) winning. Calum is pouting as I clean up the cards and put them back into the box.


“Stop pouting, Hood. It’s just a card game.” I say as I close the box. “Correction: a card game made for KIDS.”


“I am a kid.” He mumbles, crossing his arms.


I look at him. “Calum, you’re 19 years old; you are not a kid.”


This makes him crack a smile and then he lets out this little giggle that makes up both crack up.


“What the hell was that!?” I laugh and he shrugs, laughing.


“I have no clue! But I’m hungry.” I roll my eyes and stands up.


“And I’m guessing you want me to make you something?”


He smiles up at me. “Yes please.”


“What do you want?”


“Hmm grilled cheese?”


I nod; that’s easy enough. I walk out of Calum’s room and to the kitchen, grabbing out the butter, bread, and cheese. While I’m fixing his sandwich, I feel someone watching me. I glance behind me to see Calum leaning against the wall, his eyes on me.


“Creep.” I say, loud enough for him to hear and he chuckles.

“Not a creep; just observing.”


“Observing what?”


I look over my shoulder just in time to see him smirk, “you.”


I roll my eyes. “Smooth.” I finish making his sandwich and put it on a plate for him. “I don’t deliver. Come and get it.” Calum walks over and grabs the plate.


“Thank you for cooking, good looking.” I laugh, letting out a sarcastic snort. “What?”


“You are being so weird today.”


He shrugs, “I’m weird everyday.”


“True, but you’re being extra weird today.”


He takes a bite of his sandwich. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”


I walk over to the couch and sit down, looking around for the TV remote. Calum walks over and sits down next to me, taking another bite of his sandwich.


“So, what’chu doing?”


I look at him. “Don’t you know how to spend five minutes in just silence?”


He shakes his head. “I’m afraid not.”


“You’re so strange.”


“I think I was weird.”


“Same thing.” I say. “Just different words; they describe the same thing.”


“And I’m guessing that thing is me?” he asked, finishing his sandwich.


I nod, “exactly.”


He chuckles and throws his arm over the back of the couch. “What do you wanna do now?”


I shrug, “just chill here, I guess.”


“Do you want to talk about anything?”


I shake my head and look up at him. “Do you?”


He shrugs and smiles at me. “We can talk about how beautiful you are.”


I laugh and roll my eyes. “What is your problem today, Hood?”


He smiles, “no problem. Just admiring the view.”


I look at him seriously. “Your pick up lines are getting nauseating.” He fakes hurt.


“You don’t like my pick up lines?”


I shake my head. “Nope.”


He pouts and moves his arm to wrap around my shoulder. “I was hoping you did.”


“And why’s that?”


He doesn’t answer my question, but instead, cups my chin with his free hand and leans in and kisses me.


After a year in therapy, I’ve been kissed.


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