Fake Tan - hs *ON HOLD*

i won't say anything

Isla knocked on Jess's door and sat back down on her front drive knowing that she wouldn't be out of the house for a couple of minutes at least - this was on a good day. She knew grudges weren't good to hold onto but Isla continued to feel the frustration she formed from last night after Harry told her that her mother had to work; it wasn't her fault, she knew that. It was just the constant ache of wanting so badly to mend something that was so badly torn, she wasn't sure if she could repair the relationship with her mother.

Thoughts continued to run lengths across her mind until she felt Jess trip over and turned her head to see a scowl painted on her face.

"Excuse you! I could've been knocked out!"

Isla huffed, "Come on Jess, we're already late." She began trudging through puddles and pulled out her phone to check the weather for Central London for the week.

"It's fucking raining all week. Would you believe that?" She growled.

Jess laughed, "Is, it is England; and Autumn."

"Still." She mumbled, kicking a rock along the pavement until it toppled over the metal bars of the gutter.

"My mum cancelled again last night, J." Isla sighed and Jess' brow furrowed before she pulled her in to an awkward side hug due to the umbrella she held.

"It's just busy right now. Have you ever noticed how no one is at the hospital during summer, hm? That's because it's summer, it's the best season and everyone's on holiday or in the sun. It's not up to her." She squeezes Isla's arm.

"Summer is boring and repetitive. Autumn and Winter are the best, you know that." Isla huffed.

"Sorry, Wednesday Adams." She glared at Jess before chuckling, and yanked the umbrella away from Isla's grip.

"Jess!" Isla yelled, running behind her along the wet concrete, her tights drowning in murky water and her hair sticking to her scalp.

* * *

Isla liked school; she liked the routine and the people and she loved keeping herself busy. Books tucked under her arm, she walked down the hallway to History, a class she constantly dreaded. There he sat, early as always waiting for Mrs McGregor to bustle in and talk about the Cold War. It angered Isla, because he was trying so hard to continue to be someone that he wasn't anymore - he had changed, but he couldn't accept it.

"Miss Canham?" She turned to see her teacher waiting to step into class, unable to with Isla stood in the doorway.

"Sorry." She mumbled, keeping her head down and avoiding those honey coloured eyes that could make you cry.

Now, Isla didn't mean to but throughout the course of the lesson, the talk of Soviets became numb to her mind and she began to focus on him. It had been so long since she had analysed the boy, she didn't notice until now that he'd cut his hair. And she liked it.

His hair was now trimmed short around his scalp and his curls lay against the top of his head, less wild than before. Her eyes peered down at his dark skin and she noted that he'd caught a tan from summer; it made his lips look pinker. It made her heart ache.

She pulled her gaze away from Theo before she could get caught and Isla knew that she could fight her emotions because although it hurt, so badly and so powerfully; day by day she would feel a little less sad and a little more like herself again.

* * *

The door was unlocked when Isla had gotten home and she knew that her mother must be home.

"Em? Is that you?" Harry shouted from the kitchen.

Her shoulders slumped. Her mother was at work, again. She walked into the kitchen and saw her stepfather stirring some type of soup on the stove.

"What is that?"

Harry jumped up from his spot and his eyes scanned over me. "Jesus, Is! You fucking scared me!"

Isla snorted, "Sorry."

"So, uh how was school?" His eyebrows raised slightly, probably expecting her to ignore him.

She smiled. "It was alright."

Harry returned the smile and continued stirring the substance in the pot. "I'm making chicken soup. Em's gonna be home tonight for dinner."

"I won't say anything." She smirked.

"About what?" Harry questioned.

She pointed at the chicken soup carton and Harry blushed.

He chuckled before turning back towards the stove, "Thanks, Is."

Isla didn't want to show it, but her lips twitched upwards and she was only seconds away from smiling when she starting walk back towards the front of the house and upstairs to her room.