The End Of Summer

CHAPTER 4

"Anyway, could you please run over to their house and get them? I need to run to the shop and pick up a few bits and pieces before we leave."

I let out a painful groan.

"Why can't you run over? I don't want to go; you know going over there is like being locked in that house from Saw to me?"

"Because I still have to pack my suitcase and your dads, and you're younger than me your legs are more limber." She clarified.

"I don't get why you hate going over there so much, Sandra and Tom are lovely to you."

"It's not them that are the problem." I muttered, stuffing a pair of jeans in my suitcase a little more forcefully than I needed to.

Let me explain who the Henderson's are.

Basically, my father worked in a finance company and his colleague was Sandra Henderson. She and her husband lived across the street from us, and because my dad worked with her and they lived so close by, my parents formed this really annoying friendship with them that meant I spend many evenings having to sit through dinners and watching 40 year old’s get drunk on red wine and talking about the golden years.

To be honest, this was not what bothered me. I liked Sandra and Tom; they cooked a stunning lasagna and always put money in my card for my birthday and Christmas, which I appreciated.

(Seriously, for those people who give birthday and Christmas cards with no money in it, I hope you get run over by a military tank for getting a kid's hopes up like that then shattering them) Plus, watching four fully grown adults drunk around a dinner

table was quite entertaining.

The problem I had though?

The son.

Archie Henderson.

How to sum up Archie Henderson?

Imagine an asshole. Then stop.

Honestly, this kid was the bane of my existence. I've known him since we were little, and even at a young age he would get his kicks from throwing play dough at my head and pulling my pants down in front of the whole class in the middle of swimming lessons.

We got along when we had to, mostly because our parents were so close we were forced to spend an unnatural amount of time with each other.

When we were 11, we actually went to Spain together for a week. I've never wanted to throw someone off a plane so much in my life. I woke up one morning, struggling to breathe, and realized he had shoved two of his mums tampons in my nostrils while I was asleep.

They were clean obviously, although I wouldn't put it past him to recycle if he knew it would piss me off enough.

We went to the same school, and majority of the time we managed to stay out of each other's way. We had to spend enough time together out of school, so school funnily enough was like a break.

During school times though, he was normally too busy nailing the cheerleaders in empty classrooms and the toilets to really pay much attention to anything else.

Here comes the cliché, he was a hoe.

That boy had stuck his p***s in more holes than a master key. He was a known player, and yet all these girls still blushed and batted their eyelashes like it was going out of fashion whenever he would speak to them, or even walk past them. He was popular at our school, not only for being a complete man slut, but also because -and I hate to say it myself- he was hilarious.

He pissed me off when we were alone, but at school the kid was a self-proclaimed comedian. He and his friends were a force to be reckoned with at our school. Any girl they wanted, they could have.

Any guy who pissed them off, they would probably hang him up upside down in the gym wearing nothing but boxers and gagged with an apple and Cello tape.

I didn't make that up.

They did it to Ben King last year because Ben claimed Archie and Gavin (his best friend) were gay for each other.

The most frustrating thing about it though, I wasn't Archie's biggest fan obviously, but even I couldn't deny the fact the boy put hot into a new scale. There was a reason he got away with sleeping with so many girls, his looks mixed with his charm, then throw in that grin he does and it is like a silent command for the girl's underwear to just fly off.

Proud to say however, that my underwear has stayed firmly wrapped around my ass and lady area when it comes to that boy. I've known him too long, spent too much time with him to let that s**t work on me. He's tried, believe me most of the comments that come out of his mouth have something to do with my mouth and his p***s, but I've just accepted it as something I have to just put up with and occasionally smack out of his head.

"If it's Archie you're worried about, he's not in. I saw him leaving the house earlier with some guy." My mum informed me, knowing very well how Archie gets on not only on my last nerve, but the nerves embedded in that nerve.

"I don't know why you two don't get alone, me and Sandra always hoped you would end up together."

"I'm aware; you mention it every time they are coming round."

"Well, why don't you do it then?" my mother was almost whining.

I swear my love life was an episode of Gossip Girl to this woman.

"Because the idea of getting with Archie Henderson is about as appealing as drinking a smoothie made of sh*t and worms." I replied without a hesitation.

"Language." She warned, before scrunching her face in disgust.

"Jesus Summer you paint quite a picture."

"Thank you." I smiled, pretty proud of that one.

She rolled her eyes "Look just run over there and get my keys."

She tells me as she turned to leave the room.

"Breaking your mother's heart here though, I want my grandchildren to be pretty." She commented before she was completely out of sight.

See, even my mother admitted that Archie Henderson was a sight for sore eyes. Unfortunately, he was also a pain in my ass.

With about as much enthusiasm as a fat kid ready to run a marathon, I groaned and started to make my way over across the road to the Henderson's house.

I knocked on the door and waited patiently.