I Hate Him [COMPLETE]

I Hate Him Chapter 4 (Picture Of Frankie)

Chapter 4

The November sky was sending down a whole storm of snow. I shut my eyes, trying to protect them from the cold wind.

My feet were getting soaked by the two inches of snow that lay on the gray concrete. The blizzard's wind was pushing me back. Not only did I have a heavy backpack that could make me fall over any second, I had the wind that pushed against my back.

I slipped on the icy sidewalk with the help of the wind's force and I landed on my backpack with my butt in the freezing snow.

"Oh my fuck," I whispered in shock.

I tried to get up but the wind pushed me back down.

"Fuck!" I yelled.

Then I heard a car halt behind me. I was pretty sure that I was on a sidewalk, not on the street. I turned around, still on my butt and I saw a black limousine.

It honked at me but I was on the sidewalk.

"What?" I yelled.

The driver's window rolled down and I saw Harry's face.

"Hop in," he replied.

"Dude, if I can't get off the ground, how am I going to simply 'hop in'?" I asked, furiously.

He rolled his eyes and got out of his car. He walked up to me and pulled off my two ton backpack.

I pushed myself up from the icy ground as Harry held my hand. I smiled once I got up. He gave the smile back and we

walked toward the stretched car.

"Thanks," I said once I hopped onto the leather passenger seat.

"No problem," he replied, starting the car.

He's seventeen years old, so he has a license.

The heated seats made my frozen body into a burning hot mug of hot chocolate.

He started to drive down my street but passed my big white house.

"Hey, you missed my house" I pointed out.

"I know," he said simply.

I put on a confused face and waited for an explanation. He just smirked and looked ahead of himself.

"Harry, you are serious about the whole secret agent thing, right?" I asked.

"Spy,"

"Yeah, spy thing." I corrected.

He looked at me once we stopped at a red light.

"Yes, I'm serious." He said surly.

His normal attire of converse and T-Shirts had changed to a whole suit. The jacket, leather shoes and ironed pants.

The light changed to green and we passed by the huge red bricked mall next to me.

"Good, because I thought that you really did get drugged." I admitted with a laugh.

I flipped my long, blonde locks over my shoulder.

He laughed along, "No, I wasn't drugged."

"Where are we going anyway?" I asked.

He tapped his finger against the steering wheel and kept on driving without answering my question.

"Harry," I said sharply.

He kept on tapping. I gave up and stared straight at the road in front of us. I noticed that we were on a highway. Highway I - 51.

"Harry, seriously. We are driving to Chicago!" I recalled.