You took my heart, could I please have it back?

[23] You took my heart, could I please have it back?

I'm sorry!! I'm so slow...at least there was no writer's block this chapter. By the way, in the middle, the bits between the ~*~*~ are mainly filler bits, sort of setting the scene. Sorry if they bore you. I hope you enjoy the chapter!!!

.:Recap:.

To this day, Freddy was still in my room as a memory of that fateful day in London. Looking back now, those eyes seemed very familiar. But who did they belong to? My question was answered almost instantly - the boy I was practically obsessed with, with mesmerizing eyes...who else but James Black?

I was crashed back to reality when Mrs Baker, who hadn't seemed to have noticed my spacing out, led us to the next theme park ride.  And so the day went on, thankfully without anymore incidents. Now I was looking forwards to Monday when hopefully I would have a friend...

.:Story Start:.

My new revelation was still on my mind as I sat in the outhouse that evening, softly strumming my guitar, letting music and James completely overtake my mind. Just seeing his dark brown eyes in my head brought some sort of emotion over me - good or bad, I did not know. It just helped me concentrate on my music.

He was such a sweet little boy. Well, at least I thought he was. I wasn't a hundred percent sure it was him...after all, there were probably lots with eyes like him in the world. But something told me it was him that had given me that teddy bear.

It just seemed like something he would do, in his nice mode. His nice mode, which had my brain frying in confusion, but which had also made me smile. I smiled as I thought of his nice mode, just before I left. Take care. That was what he had said to me.

My thoughts were cut off as the door to the outhouse was opened and the youngest of the Baker children came in, his head over his shoulder, talking to his brother.

"...but the yellow one is flat!" Rory exclaimed, then turned around, saw me and stopped dead, before raising an eyebrow at the guitar in my hands and smirking.

"Guitar? You play guitar?" he said scornfully, leaving the door ajar. I arched an eyebrow.

"No, I've got it here for decoration," I replied sarcastically. He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Yeah, well, you're not very good," he said shortly, walking over to the pile of flat footballs sitting in the corner of the outhouse. My eyes followed him, and I scoffed.

"How do you know? Have you even heard me play?" I asked pointedly, raising my eyebrow again. Rory was silent for a moment, before grimacing and walking out.

I smirked, victorious - he had no comeback. If there was one thing I had learned, it would be never to judge people before you get to know them properly. Not that the Baker's would have learnt this point though - they were too dense.

My smirk fell - they hated me. And I didn't know why. Everyone hated me! Everyone apart from Alex, Damien and a bunch of adults. Why did I repel people? I didn't exactly try to make friends, sure, but people could at least see I was always by myself...

But no, it wasn't just the Bakers who were dense. It was people in general. They saw me and walked on by, as if the scars on my face somehow meant I was unfriendly. I wasn't unfriendly; I was just quiet and held back. Not everyone had to be loud and proud.