From Wattpad With Love{Completed}

Chapter Seven

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Too lazy to edit again...Sorry xD

From Wattpad With Love

Chapter Seven

A couple of hours had passed since my fight with Rebecca. I wasn't planning on giving up so easily. There were yet a lot of things to find out, the most important of which was the real identity of KingCameron.

I, as James, texted her a couple of times, but she only replied to the last text I sent her.

Rebecca

Her message made me cringe. It wasn't enough. She kept shutting me out. I guess that's what I get for being friends with her. She'd only tell this stuff to another girl!

That wasn't going to stop me, though. Rebecca might not want to talk to James, but NightCreeper still had a shot. There was just the matter of her being angry with me to deal with.

It was now ten o'clock at night, four hours after my fight with Rebecca. I figured she should have cooled down by now. So, I logged onto Wattpad, and sent her a private message. All it said was: 'I apologize.'

The second I went back to my profile, I saw that I had a message. I raised an eyebrow, then clicked on the small number one. As I had expected, the reply was from Rebecca. I could see the first few words.

'Hey...:) I appreciate you apologiz...'

I sighed a huge breath of relief, and smiled as I clicked open the message.

'Hey...:) I appreciate you apologizing! But, in high insight, I'm the one who should be apologizing(I can just imagine the smug look on your face right now). I overreacted because I was angry about something else, and lashed out on you:$ So...I'm sorry *people holding gun against head lower them now that I've apologized* Yeh, lame, I know xD It's been a long day:P

I couldn't help but smile as I stared at her message. I rushed to type in my reply.

'Yeh, that was really lame xD. A smug look? Me? No way!:P and let's just call it even. Forget the whole thing! And about what you said...you need to talk about anything?'

I reread my answer over and over again, until I felt comfortable enough with it to send.

As I waited for her reply, I could hear footsteps coming closer and closer. My mom was probably coming to my room. Sure enough, there were three, faint knocks on the door followed by my mother's soft voice.

"James, honey?" she said, as she opened my door.

"Yeh, mom?" I answered, rotating my wheeled, black chair in her direction.

"What are you doing on Wednesday?" she asked, nervously.

"Nothing I can think off. I might go hang out at Jessy's or something. Why? Do you need anything?"

"No, nothing like that. I was just thinking about inviting Alan over for dinner. I wanted you to be here, too," said my mother.

"I'll be here. Invite him!" I encouraged. I could feel the happiness springing from her as I finished my sentence. She needed this.

"Good," she smiled. "I'm, I'm going to call him! Right now!" she said, determined. She left my room, and hurried down the hallway, where my dad's study was. She hadn't gone in there in ages.

"Mum?" I called out after her.

She didn't answer. She came back to my room after about a minute or so, carrying a large book: the yellow pages. I raised my eyebrows when I realized what she was doing. The heavy book made a loud thud when she set it on my dresser, and scowered the pages for Shefield.