Chapter Seven- The City

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Chapter 7

Amy's POV

Harry from the hood- I hope your up because there's a slight change of plan and I'm picking you up in 10 minutes.

Harry from the hood? What the hell? I honestly want to die laughing. He saved his name as Harry from the hood? Jesus Christ.

Me- Okay 'Harry from the hood' are you bringing your camera?

Harry from the hood- Wtf? And yeah I've got it.

I laughed at his response. I probably looked like a weirdo sitting in the kitchen on floor laughing to myself as I try and feed Grace's puppy she was taking care of.

Me- Great.

Harry from the hood- Why did you call me 'Harry from the hood' I don't get it.

Me- Ask your drunk self.

I don't get a reply straight away this time which I was pretty glad about because the puppy fucking hates me and won't come near me and when I pick it up it bites me.

Harry from the hood- Oh Jesus Christ, change it.

Me- No it's well funny.

Harry from the hood- I hate you.

Me- The feeling is mutual.

I sigh and leave the puppy to its own devices and run upstairs to buy a little bit of make up on.

Harry from the hood- Hurry up I'm in the car.

Me- You said 10 minutes?

Harry from the hood- Isn't that like girl code for now?

Me- wtf no.

Harry from the hood- Well I'm waiting so hurry.

Fucking twat. Girl code? There is no girl code anymore because all girls don't understand fucking girl code in the first place. It seems like every bitch for themselves at the minute.

Me- Okay but I'm bringing breakfast.

Harry from the hood- Bring me a sandwich?

Does it look like I make other people sandwiches? I fucking don't.

Me- No.

Harry from the hood- Your not eating in my car if you don't bring me a sandwich.

I really want breakfast though. For God sake.

Me- Ham or cheese?

Harry from the hood- Ham.

Me- K

I finish applying my make-up and throw on some black skinny jeans with a black and white striped crop top with my leather jacket. I pick up my bag and stuff my purse and sketch pad in it along with my car keys and other little girly bits. I grab my burgundy Doc Marten shoes and run down the stairs into the kitchen.

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"I thought I said 10 minutes? It's been 20!" He says as I climb into his car that was parked just across the street. He starts the car straight away after I put my bag on my lap and strap myself in.

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