When It Comes To You [√] BOOK TWO

28

Camila

“So why didn’t you come?” Harry asked as we climbed into his car.

“Huh?”

“The therapy sessions. I saw your name on the form but you didn’t show up twice in a row.” He answered, clicking his seatbelt into place.

Uh-oh.

I knew he would eventually ask, I thought to myself

We had been having fun for a couple of hours in the arcade. Cyrus disappeared as soon as we entered the building but I didn’t try to look for him. If he wanted to be immature then I was going to let him be. Harry and I enjoyed ourselves though and the subject of M.S.G.A hadn’t been brought up during the short conversations in between video games.

“Well I didn’t think I needed them anymore.” I replied honestly.

He frowned at me. “Mind telling me why?”

“Well you see I just wanted to go so I could talk about my feelings and try and get closure about what happened and well Cyrus has been doing that for me. I’m sorry if I wasted your time but don’t expect me to show up next week.” I said honestly.

“Well I understand what you’re saying but remember that you can never get too much help. That’s what I’m here for: to help you. I’ll show up every Wednesday evening to wait for you just in case you do show up. I have nothing better to do anyway.” He said, flashing me a dimpled smile.

I smiled back as he turned the car on. I couldn’t stop smiling even if I tried. Both of us could feel it: the invisible jolts of electricity between the two of us. I was almost too scared to touch him, in case I got electrocuted. There was an undeniable attraction between the two of us and even though our conversations were fairly uninteresting, there was a distinctive curiosity and longing for more behind each word.

 Just as the car started moving, my favourite song blared out of the radio speakers.

“Oh my gosh!” I yelled just as the song started.

“You like Justin Bieber?” he asked coolly as I sang along.

“Not really but after I heard Despacito, I’m definitely a fan. I couldn’t believe it when I heard him singing in freaking Spanish!” I gushed.

He laughed at my obvious fangirling and rolled his eyes. “Thank goodness. I cannot handle any more Beliebers.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. Those girls are terrifying! I was just checking out at the grocery store when one of his songs came on the radio. I was like: ‘Really, right now? I hate this music.’ And just like that, the cashier shot me one of the deadliest stares I have ever gotten in my life. I quickly apologised and was out of there as soon as I paid. I didn’t even wait for my receipt.” He said with his eyes on the road.

I laughed aloud as he kept on ranting.

He spoke with such enthusiasm that I couldn't help but laugh. He was too adorable and his slight English accent made his rant that much more enjoyable.

“The worst part is that you can’t tell what they look like: they come in all different shapes, sizes, colours and ages. In fact, they should all come with warning tags so the rest of us normal people can be cautious around them: Beware, I am a Belieber.”

I laughed loudly over the music and rolled the window down so I could feel the fresh breeze on my face.

“I get you. Mel, one of my friends, is also a Belieber and she’s nearly killed me a billion times for insulting the love of her life.”