chapter fifteen

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ZANE

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ZANE

MY FATHER'S in America visiting Amelia because he finally decided to give a shit. He's staying at my mum's house therefore I am not. I will punch him and my mum will be mad and she already has enough to worry about, so it's best if I just stay away for a while.

I wake up really thirsty so I head towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. On my way, I encounter Callie who seems to have just gotten out of the shower.

I run into her as I'm passing the bathroom door and she's opening it and we bump into each other. My hands automatically land on her waist to steady her while she grips the towel tightly. My heart literally stutters at the sight in front of me.

"Fuck." I mutter, staring down at a blushing Callie for half a second longer than necessary.

"Sorry." I add and let her go.

"It's fine." She says and walks past me to her room. I stand rooted to the spot.

I think my brain is broken. How am I supposed to carry on after that?

I'm not blind. She's insanely pretty and I've tried my best to think of her platonically despite the fact that I'm wildly attracted to her. My attraction for her runs so much deeper than usual, Callie is magnetic and I'm getting drawn in helplessly. She has the best of everything, beautiful hair, a nice body, the prettiest face ever with almost doll like features and the most caring personality.

She's confident, probably not as confident as she should be but she holds her head high. She didn't let me wallow in my sadness last night and she stood up for herself when I was an ass to her, albeit in the sweetest way ever. I think I'm a little obsessed with her. With her expressive green eyes, her anxious rambling and her care for others that puts Mother Teresa to shame.

I sit in the kitchen with a glass of water trying to think of what to make for breakfast, when Callie walks back in. She's wearing a pretty floral sundress and her half of her hair is tied up, leaving the rest down.

My mind flashes to her in a towel and I have to blink eight times to get rid of it. I need to get it together, I don't know why this has shaken me so much. I've seen women in less but for some reason my mind is telling me that this is different.

"I'm making pancakes, do you want some?"

"Depends, how do you make them?"

"Crepe style." She starts gathering the basic ingredients.

I don't like American style pancakes, I grew up with thin ones and they are so much better. I'm surprised that she likes them the same way that I do.

"Yes then. Do you want some tea?" I ask her.

"Sure." She accepts and I join her moving around the kitchen.

From my understanding not many Americans have kettles, I think they're getting more popular but when I first moved here it was crazy. Tea is one thing that my family haven't comprised on over the years, we buy ours from England.

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