British Bird - Chapter Nineteen

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British Bird
Chapter Nineteen
Sang

I walk past Victor who holds my front door open. My hands are full of the bags I insisted I carry, my fingers aching and straining under the weight. "Thanks," I mutter.

I turn into the kitchen and immediately halt to a stop on my feet. "What have you done?" I ask as my eyes zero in on the silver American style fridge that stands loud and proud in my tiny kitchen. "Where did that come from? That is not my fridge. Where is my fridge?"

"We got a new one, Baby. Don't worry. We've put yours in storage for now, but with us all here, we knew we'd fill your tiny fridge. So we got a bigger one." North says with a grin on his handsome face. That grin though, it's smug.

"I didn't want a new one," I mutter, going into the kitchen and dropping my bags onto the table. "I was happy with my little one." Am I getting myself pissed off over nothing? Yeah, maybe I am, but they can't come crashing into my life like this.

I immediately start opening cupboards, noting everything has been moved around to make space. My cereal boxes are now on top of the fridge, my box of crisps is now down by the side, and my biscuits have been moved to a biscuit tin I did not buy.

Everything has been moved and rearranged. I slam the two cupboard doors I was holding open shut, before putting my hands on my hips and taking a deep breath. "I'm not sure how I feel about this," I whisper to myself.

"It's only temporary, Sang. You'll be coming back to America with us in just under two weeks," Kota says. He freezes as he places some bags on the floor, and my eyes widen.

"You want me to go back with you?" I ask.

He pushes his glasses up his nose. "Well, we're hoping."

I stare at him and he stares back at me. I mean, I kind of had a theory that they wanted me to go back with them, but this just confirms it. I shake my head and look away, dropping my bag onto a chair, and laying my jacket over it. "I'm going to my room. You lot can put this all away."

"You're going to hide in your room again all night?" Nathan asks.

"No. Come and get me once this is all done, and we'll talk." A path is made for me so I can leave the kitchen.

Entering my room, I shut the door behind me and let out a sigh. I try to ignore the warming glow in my heart of their kindness, but it's starting to become impossible.

Turning around, I find that my bed has been made and that a my books have been piled neatly onto my desk. Inhaling, the scent of polish hits me, and I realise they've tidied up my room. I wish I could focus more on that fact, but a present lays in the middle of my bed with a single red rose.

I wonder what it could be, and my fingers itch to open it, but I find myself heading for my drawers and pulling out some pyjamas. I ignore the fact that clean washing has been placed in there with some new clothes. Instead, I strip out of my clothes from the day and change into my pyjamas.

My hair gets thrown into a bun, securing it with a hair bobble as I make my way over to the bed. I sit down, curling one leg under me and leaving the other hanging off the bed.

Picking up the rose, I bring it to my nose and inhale. The scent washes over me and brings a smile to my face. I place the rose down on the bed before reaching for the present. It's square, thin in depth, but wide in width.

I hesitantly pull at the pink paper, the tearing sound loud in the silent room. Pulling the paper some more, I gasp, dropping it onto the bed as my hand covers my mouth. After all this time, Cara had kept it.

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