You're Appealing to the Emotions That I Simply Do Not Have

Pete ran to get her luggage while Patrick hauled her up the bus stairs where she was moaning in pain, and he shoved her into the bunk room. Joe, Pete and Andy walked onto the bus, sat down and they were off.

"P-Patrick! Let me out, there are sharp objects in here and I will not hesitate to use them!" She screeched, banging on the door. "I think you'd rather I cut myself in the washroom, unless you like the sight of blood on your bunk."

Patrick nearly ran to the door and swung it open. She walked out, and stumbled into the wall, knocking her head.

"Where are my suitcases?" She asked him after a few minutes of leaning against the wall, breathing deeply.

"Why?" He cocked one eyebrow.

"I need my anxiety pills. Like, now." His eyes widened, and he looked like he was having more of an attack then she was. He rushed to the room her suitcases were placed in, but couldn't find them in any of her bags.

"I can't find them!" Patrick squeaked, terrified of what would be coming.

"Oh my god I left them at home! We need to go back! Oh my god!" Pete then decided to walk by the hallway they were in. He noticed her shaking form and stopped.

"What's wrong with her?" He asked Patrick, a trace of concern laced in his voice.

"She forgot her anxiety pills. Do you have any with you?"

"Why would I give any to her?" He no longer cared about the fact that she was having an anxiety attack.

"Because well cancel the tour for a full year if she doesn't get better, I swear!" Patrick threatened.

Pete sighed and rushed to his suitcase. He shoved the bottle of pills and a bottle of water in her direction and she gulped some down.

An hour later she was sitting on one of the two couches in the 'living-room', facing a blank wall where nothing had been hung other then a plasma.

"What the hell are you staring at, moron?" Pete asked, switching on the TV. She glared at him, and then turned to face Pete properly.

"This whole-" Patrick interrupted her by walking into the room and immediately speaking.

"So, whens your birthday?"

"July third. I'm twenty." She answered quickly.

"Well, I know we've talked and stuff, but I keep on forgetting your name..."
"Rory." She replied, and Pete looked at them, dumbfounded.

"What the heck? Are you not cousins? Shouldn't you know that about each other?" He asked. Rory sighed as Patrick explained.

"When her mum, my aunt died, she didn't know that she had any relatives at all left, she didn't even know she had an aunt. So, when I found out she died, I got called to be Rory's guardian because of all of her issues."

"But, you're not my guardian. I'm three years older than you, and I don't have issues!"

"Yeah, so you cutting yourself, attempting suicide three times, and taking pills is not issues?" Pete asked. She glared at him.

"At least I didn't attempt suicide in a fucking parking lot!" She snapped.
"Don't bring that up!" He was livid and fuming.

"And why not? I didn't post naked pictures of myself on the internet for attention either!" She smirked when she saw he become frustrated.

"Because I said so! Don't bring that up either, I never even posted them, I lost my fucking phone and someone else posted them." Pete groaned.

"Whatever. Think what you want, you attempt once and you're most likely to do it again. I suggest you start wearing pants that were made for your gender, fucktard." He clenched his fists as she walked out of the small room and into the bathroom, with one of her bags.
"I can't believe that slut is coming with us. She is such a cynical, sarcastic bitch!"

"I can practically smell the unresolved sexual tension!" Joe squeaked as he entered the bunk room.

"What the hell Joe?" Patrick and Andy said in unison.

"I don't know. I read it off of a Harry Potter fan fiction site."

Everyone in the room raised their eyebrows, and looked at Joe suspiciously as Rory walked out of the washroom. She had changed her shirt from a long-sleeved black shirt into a light green tank-top, and long black shoulder-to-mid-finger gloves. She was tying her long brown hair into a ponytail and she stood in the doorway of the 'living-room'.