Captured

I have known Bridget my entire life. She is the sister I will never have. She is like the Blair Waldorf to my Serena Van der Woodsen, the Woody to my Buzz Lightyear. She knows my biography, my pet peeves, my greatest fear, and vice versa. So I guess it took me by a whole lot of surprise to wake up without Bridget by my side.

On days such as these, when we've got no school to think about (although, technically, we should be in school right now), Bridget would be hogging the bed and be in a deep coma until noon, or sometimes even longer. But the other side of the bed was Bridget-less, and as I started to worry that something terribly wrong happened to her, I heard a noise from downstairs.

Bridget was sitting on the couch in the living room, playing thumb wrestling with Niall.

"Bridget, are you sick? Why are you up so early?" I asked, and they stopped and looked up both at the same time.

"I went down a while ago to drink water, and the guys were already here, so I decided to stay and wait," she answered, sounding like a child. That's a sign that she's trying to seek attention, and obviously she's not flirting with me.

"Waiting for what?"

Niall took Bridget's hand, probably to play thumb wrestling again, and said, "For Harry to finish making breakfast."

Did that sound right? Harry Styles is making breakfast? And how is he going to make breakfast? I mean, he is supposed to be sick.

"Good morning, love," Louis greeted me with a pleasant sneer, then offered me a plate of French toast. I grabbed one and took a bite, and woah, it tasted like heaven.

The kitchen was filled with the scent of butter, milk, bread, and other good breakfast-y whiff. Zayn and Liam were taking plates out of the cupboard, while Harry was multitasking with the pancakes, fried eggs, and bacon by the stove. For a moment, he stopped what he was doing, looked at me with a bothersome grin, and said, "You look really lovely in your underwear, Austin."

I felt blood on my cheeks and I stared down. All this time I was just wearing a white tank top with a cute panda across it, and a blue underwear. And not even Bridget, who was my best friend in the world, bothered to mention it. Yes of course, Harry Styles had to be the one to notice it. His dimples showed as he was probably very amused of what he was seeing. The rest of the boys were giggling, except for Zayn, who let Liam do the rest of their set-up-the-table job, and went over to me and gave me the gray hoodie he was wearing a while ago. "That's not mine anyways. I found that in the closet in our room. So theoretically, it's yours," he said, then returned to help Liam.

I said thank you, but Zayn wasn't near enough to hear it. I put it over my head and proceeded to Harry. The pancakes were looking very golden brown, which means that it undoubtedly tastes good. And the bacon were deliberately annoying me for looking flavorsome as the oil hopped around it.

"You're supposed to be in bed," I told Harry, my hands on my waist.

"Why, thank you for the concern, Miss Austin. But as you can see, I'm perfectly okay," he was talking to me like he was some British royalty, although in the eyes of billions of girls, he is one, "Why don't you make yourself useful and put these bacon in a plate."

It was awfully strange. Harry Styles was saying nice things, and that's supposed to be weird, right? Nevertheless, I did what he just had said, then went to the dining table and served our food. I sat across Zayn, who seemed to be contemplating over something. On my right was me was Niall, who was still playing thumb wresting with Bridget. Louis sat beside Zayn. Then Liam on Louis' right, leaving an empty chair on my left.

Harry followed with a tall stack of pancakes, and with a roguish smile painted all over his face, he proceeded to the aforementioned available seat.

While the rest of were eating, Niall and Bridget had their own little world. I joked that blondes deserve each other, until Liam told me that Niall is not even really blonde. I shut up since then, secretly adoring the bacon and the pancakes. I was also casually glancing at Zayn, who likewise was very silent. Harry kept asking me if I liked the food, which of course I did, but I was too busy wondering what was running through Zayn's head to answer his question.

Despite all that, breakfast went pretty normal.

***

At around 7 in the evening, when only Zayn, Liam and I had batteries left in our phones, the majority decided to start a bonfire outside and chill. And by chill, they meant board games and booze. Zayn brought with him a Snakes and Ladders. Apparently, the guy has been going through a lot of the old stuff left in the beach house.

"Here are the rules," Bridget said as the boys started with the fire, "Whoever wins in Snakes and Ladders will have to drink a can of beer."

"That's boring," Louis commented, "How about strip off a piece of clothing?"

"Uh, you're all guys. That's not fun," I pointed out.

"Yeah, and besides, I think we've all seen Austin in her underwear," Harry added.

I swear I wanted to put his face on fire for bringing up that incident.

"Then, we'll have to choose whatever happens to the one who wins the game. But we only have three choices: drink a can of beer, strip off," Liam grinned widely, "Or kiss someone from the group, for maybe 15 seconds."

I didn't like the sound of the last one, but everyone agreed.

We all sat down on the sand, surrounding the board, the flame warming us and brightly shining by our right.

In the first game, Liam won. Harry suggested to let him take the beer because Liam was so much amusing when he's wasted. Liam drank the entire can in seconds without reluctance, but he was wobbling when the second game started.

The next unfortunate winner was Bridget. Much to Niall's delight, he applauded and right away, declared Bridget's prize for winning Snakes and Ladders, "Kiss me."

The rest of the boys "oooh-ed" as Bridget kissed Niall. Louis started counting loudly, "1! 2! 3!"

This boy band is made up of bad boys and the world has the right to know that.

"14! 15! Okay get off him now, Bridget."

"I am going to win this next round," Niall reassured.

"And you think we're going to let you kiss Bridget?" Zayn killed the Irish kid's fantasy instantly, "Sorry mate, but things never happen the same way twice."

"Fuck you, Zayn," Niall answered, and the other guy just laughed.

Louis won the third game and was asked to take off his sweatpants, to which he replied with, "It's fucking cold, man. Are you seriously doing this to me?"

The fourth game was very intense. Fighting for the next dare was, out of all people, Zayn and Harry. Zayn was on the 95th box, while Harry was on the 89th. It was Harry's turn to roll the die, and the little plastic cube stopped with three dots facing upwards. Harry grunted in disappointment, "Really? Dammit!"

He grudgingly moved his game piece on box number 92, where a snake was waiting to bring him down. Harry was sent back to the 76th box and he looked very pissed.

Zayn took the die and rolled it. When it stopped, he looked at it like it was some grenade waiting to explode. It says 5.

Louis probably compelled that die to stop at 5, or he simply saw this coming, because he did not even give any of us a chance to say something. Toying a malicious smile, he said, "Zayn Malik, please kiss Austin Schneider."