chapter 6

"Are you sure you want the top bunk?" I ask, as Harry struggles to climb down without bumping his head on the ceiling, once again leant up against the dresser as I watch his cautious moves.

"Of course I do, why wouldn't I?" He questions, eyeing me obscurely. I roll my eyes knowing what he's thinking.

"I'm not saying it because I want it. I'm asking because at any given moment, throughout this week, your gonna hit your head on the ceiling, possibly hard, and go unconscious. Now that I think about it," I wander off, really thinking about it now, "Keep the bunk."

Harry scoffs, trying to hide his amused grin. "What happened to being friends?" He asks, I look at him with narrowed eyes.

"You didn't say anything about being friends. You specifically said to try and get along, and that's it," I correct him with a raised brow.

"Well, shit. Someone's a bit touchy and sensitive," He retorts, finally jumping down from his bed.

"All I did was correct you."

"Yeah, really rudely, actually," He tells me with a frown.

"I wasn't being rude," I scoff as he crosses his arms and I do the same soon after. "You better not be picking a fight, Harry. Don't test me."

"I wasn't picking a fight, Ray-"

"Reagan," I grit.

"Reagan, Ray, Rat. I don't care anymore," He seethes, his once bright eyes now going dark. "And I wasn't picking a fight. I was just calling you out on being a bitch again."

Ouch. Despite the many awful things Harry has said to me before, that one stung... Just a bit.

"You didn't have to say it like that," My fingers are twitching, I feel like scratching his eyes out the more he talks.

"Who cares? Why are you getting so worked up, anyway? Jesus, Ray. It seems like you're the one trying to pick a fight," He rolls his eyes.

"I'm not trying to pick a fight," I defend myself, "You just called me a bitch!"

"I didn't call you a bitch," He says matter-of-factly with crossed arms, "I said you were being one."

I roll my eyes dramatically, "Like that makes a difference."

Harry throws his hands up in frustration, inhaling a sharp breath and then groaning, "God, I feel like we're not gonna make it out of this trip alive."

"Oh, you're just now realising that?" I ask rhetorically, my voice full of sarcasm as he glares at me icily and stalked towards me in a threatening manner, stopping just barely a foot away from me.

"Just stop, Reagan, I'm tired of fighting," Harry shakes his head with a cold stare. "I swear to god, if you get us kicked off this trip-"

"Me? I'm not the one who started this, fuck you," I say harshly, taking a step forward and jabbing a finger to his chest.

And although Harry is taller than me by a couple inches, we remain in eye contact, glaring at each other.

Harry looks from me to my lips, licking his own then turning on his heel. My gaze has softened just a bit, as I watch him with pulled in brows.

"Whatever, man," He grumbles, slipping on his shoes and walking around the room as if in search of something. "I expect you to be cooled down when I come back," He calls out, slamming the door behind him.

"He expects?" I say in bewilderment to myself, "Who the fuck does he think he is? Ugh, that fucking lunatic!"

I glare at his figure through the window, watching as he took long strides away, running his fingers through his hair countless times. I ball my fists up and pace around the room in annoyance.

Frustrated, I grab the pillow from my bunk and press my face against it, letting out a muffled high pitched scream.

Harry Styles was no doubt, the most frustrating, annoying, rudest, ego-maniac I had ever met in my years of existence and I swear I might end up sacrificing my life before the week is even up.

It's only still the first day and I've already lost count of how many fights we'd broken out into. I couldn't do this. I told Harry, Adams, even Mikaela from the very beginning: this was not going to work!

Pretty soon, one of us is going to end up in the hospital, with a neck brace and loads of stitches. And that "one of us", is not going to be me.

I sigh, scratching my own head as I look around the room and decide to take this opportunity to unload my clothes and fill up some of the dressers, possibly leaving a few open for Harry if he ever decides to unpack.

Based on the way his clothes are horridly shoved and wrinkled on, not in, his luggage, he probably won't even give it a time of day to look at unless he's changing.

I shake my head, continuing my packing and separating a different set of clothes to change into once I'm done.

Since it was way past noon, the sun was bound to set soon, I may as well change into something comfortable knowing I won't be coming out of the cabin tonight until tomorrow when the activities begin.

Unbelievable how time flew by for the day, and I spent majority of it, having a screaming match with Harry. I said it once and I'll say it again, this is gonna be one hell of a week.

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