Hunter Hayes Imagines

Relationship Goals

"Are you ready?" the blue eyed brunette boy asked me. I could barely hear him speaking and it may have taken me a minute or two before completely understanding what he was saying. Waking up at three o'clock in the morning was not exactly the best idea in the world.

"Are you sure that we have to leave today, let alone this early? It's three o'clock in the morning, Easton. I want to go back to sleep. I feel like we can make it on time if we leave tomorrow or even later today," I said not wanting to leave Nashville quite yet especially at three o'clock on the morning. Of course I wanted to go home to little Breaux Bridge, but I wanted to stay one more day, mostly to relax here in Nashville. I definitely was not in the mood to go in one direction down a super long highway trying to make sure that everyone else's bad driving habits didn't affect us.

"We could stay another day. That's not a bad idea, but if we leave today, it means one more day of exploring," Easton insisted. He's been excited like this since yesterday. Earlier this month, he didn't want to go, but yesterday, he begged for us to leave today. There's nothing special going on today though, so I don't see why we couldn't wait one more day before leaving.

"Exploring! Of course, you would use that against me even though it's my hometown. That's where I grew up. I think I would know everything there. As much as I love Breaux Bridge there isn't much to explore." I missed my hometown, but Nashville was being good to me. I didn't want to leave. Maybe it's because I didn't want Easton to know things about me. I didn't want him to know about my happy memories. I think I'm just being selfish more than anything else.

"I knew that you would say that which is why I already have your stuff packed. You can thank me later for that. There are things about Breaux Bridge that you don't know about. I know it's secrets," He would know about secrets, good or bad. He was always the first to know, and I never knew how, "Secrets that should never be told."

"Secrets? You mean like Harry Potter secrets?" I asked, hoping to change the topic. Easton simply through his head back laughing before calming down and answering me.

"It's nothing like those kind of secrets. More like personal secrets that you never told me about. Quit trying to change the subject,," I guess trying to change the subject didn't work at all.

"Actually, we can leave," I briefly paused and I could see the excitement in his bright blue eyes, "Tomorrow."

He was determined to make me leave this early to go to Breaux Bridge with him. I could see it already, but how far he was willing to go in order to convince me to go was an absolute mystery to me.

"There was that one time when you brought frogs into the church because you thought that they needed Jesus!" Easton exclaimed and threw his head back in cackles. I don't think I have ever seen him laugh so hard. His laughter was contagious and I couldn't help but laugh with him. To be honest, the memory was quite amusing too. To me, these memories were a kind of secret that I never told anyone about. Either you were there when it happened or you weren't. I wasn't one for telling stories of my childhood unlike Easton, who could certainly write a book on everything he has ever experienced in his entire life, starting with his childhood.

"I was three! I liked frogs," I defended my three year old self. I wasn't going to let him laugh at that little girl, especially since I wasn't like the other girls my age. I was definitely a tomboy, and I think it was because I was always around my father more than I was around my mother. My mother was always either at the hospital or spending her time outside of the house. It was so rare for me to see her around, but I knew that she was always punctual for church on Sundays. So I guess that's a good thing, right?

"You thought that they were sinners because they murdered flies, Rosie. Did you not know that frogs eat flies?" I turned my attention quickly to him. That was the nickname that my mother would always give me, but I never did like it. The nickname sounded beautiful from his lips. It sounded unique, but whever my mother said the nickname, even though I knew it was out of love, I felt like she wanted me to be something else that I wasn't. She wanted me to be this perfect little girl who never wanted to get dirty, which probably explains why she left my dad, saying that she couldn't live in our small white double wide anymore. Sometimes, I think she just didn't want to have to deal with anyone anymore. Everyone seemed to criticise her for every little thing that she did.