Find You There (Fanfic Version)

Forty-Nine

The prom, the graduation, the soccer field meet-ups. . . all over now. No furthermore details other than Micha being the prom queen, Louis getting his dream prom date -it's actually the model we've talked about ages ago- and then there's Madz dancing with her crush and lastly, Isabelli being the valedictorian.

With highschool life finally over from the drama, the rumors and people sticking their noses into your business, I finally get to wind down for a long while.

"So that one year vacation deal with your father, is that still on?" Harry asks, again, lying on my bed like it's his. He's actually right under the covers -which had just been fixed by Dana.

"Pretty much." I shrug. "What about you, your college?"

"It's either I invite you to Britain or I'll stay in your college, whichever fits your father's fancy," he replies.

I sit on the bed while he is still sleepily lying down. "But then, you'll be ahead of me, one year."

"The one-year vacation seems appealing," he says with a smile. "Anyways, Rich and Cass are going away and wants me to babysit Warren."

I raise an eyebrow, "They want you to babysit? Whatever happened to maids and such?"

"Well, they don't want him to lack the attention of relatives so that's where I come in."

"And you want me to come with you?" I ask.

"I'm not telling you for no reason."

I laugh. "Harry, I hate kids, there are no exceptions to that."

"I'm not asking you take care of him. I'm asking you to just come with me."

"Have you -"

"I asked your father, your mother, Robbie and Ivan. What else? Come on, at least one trip before we head to California," he says. "Kachow."

"You watched Cars?"

"The title itself is already appealing to me," he mutters. "Just come with me. We'll just take a tiny trip around town. With Warren. Don't worry, he's blond, but green eyes. I think they might actually mistake us for being the parents."

I scoff, "You know, that's not helping me want to go."

"I'll take you to bridge."

"Deal."

That was an easy discussion. And so, we both head their house where, immediately, he starts playing with Warren. . . his favorite nephew. But I have to debate, Warren is his only nephew.

When we enter Warren's bedroom, it's full of car figurines, sticker, black and white checkered flags from the walls, the curtains, down to the sheets of his bed -which is also, designed as a racecar.

"Ah, you're planning to have another racer in the family," I mutter.

"No, Rich doesn't want to but he can't say no to my gifts," Harry says with a laugh, carrying Warren on his lap.

"How old is he?"

"One year and a couple of months," He answers as the baby keeps mumbling gibberish. Oh yeah, it was his birthday months ago and I did not even think about it.

"How old is your brother?"

"Um twenty-seven, supposedly," he answers. "Why?"

"Nothing."

"Alright, feeding time. It's either you hold him or you make the bottle," Harry says all of a sudden.

I shake my head, "No, it's either you drop him to his crib and hold onto him as you make the bottle."