✔ DRUNK words, SOBER thoughts ✖ hemmings au

25: Italian Ice

ARI.

Bathing was therapeutic to me. Some people do yoga, some people clean and some people bake cupcakes. I on the other hand, liked to fill up my tub with warm water, embellish it with fruity smelling bubbles and let the entire bathroom echo with my favorite songs from a plethora of artists. After leaving Luke's house earlier, I drove straight home, yearning to delve into my bath time rituals.

If there was one thing about me that I don't like to admit, is that I'm more sensitive than what I like to let people see. For my entire life, I've always been the tough kid on the playground; the one that's always willing to stand up for other underdogs. I didn't like showing any emotion that would perceive me as weak and I rarely let people see me cry. For the longest time, Ashton, Calum and Michael always had this strong inkling that I was biologically incapable of producing tears.

Then my dad died.

And for quite a while, it seemed like all I could do was cry. Luke has seen me shed tears on more than one occasion in the span of several weeks. Letting him see me cry meant that I was comfortable in his presence; that wherever he was, felt like home. After our argument today, I let Luke's words lacerate me. He really hurt my feelings and maybe it was a mistake; maybe I shouldn't have allowed myself to plummet into his tenacious gravity.

Just as Five Colours in Her Hair by McFly ended and another song ensued, I stepped out of the tub. Wrapping a soft towel around my body, I walked across the hall back to my room where I selected some clothes to wear. A simple pair of high waisted denim shorts, a tucked in white tank and a dark blue and black flannel adorned my freshly bathed body. I took my hair out of its ponytail and kept my long locks in its natural state, letting it cascade down my back in soft, tousled waves.

Buzz. Buzz.

I looked over to the desk where my phone sat. Picking up the device, I slid my finger across the screen to see a new text message.

From: Reese O'Hara - 3:45PM
Picking you up in 15 mins :)

To: Reese O'Hara - 3:46PM
See you soon.

Reese was nice. Sure, I didn't really know him and he could be some creepy dude with weird beastiality fetishes but he was something new and refreshing. Not that I ever got bored spending time with the guys, but a little change never hurt anyone. When Reese came by to pick me up, I made my mind repress the idea of Luke. I was still upset over our argument but I didn't want to put a damper on this hang out with Reese. He didn't deserve to be vacuumed into juvenile high school drama.

"So what's the plan?" I asked, as Reese pulled away from the curb. I gazed at him, noticing how his university sweatshirt fit nicely on his body.

"I was thinking we check out the annual Pumpkin Festival?" He suggested, "I've never been and I've heard there's tons to do."

"I actually like that idea," I told him, and I swore I heard him sigh in relief. "I haven't been to Pumpkin Fest in about five years."

"Sounds like a plan, and afterwards, you can decide what we can do next," he offered.

"Oh, so you think that there will be an afterwards?" I teased. "What if I totally get sick of you, fake a throbbing headache and demand you take me home?"

"Your home or mine?" Reese smirked, a solitary dimple popping out on the left side. I rolled my eyes at his snarky innuendo.

"Ha, ha. Smooth," I sarcastically quipped, earning a laugh from Reese.

"I'm joking," he declared, a smile still painted on his face. Reese turned up the radio, continuing the drive right outside of town to the Pumpkin Fest where we spent the rest of our afternoon.