Chapter 7 ( Harry fan fic) I fell in love with my step brother

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Callie's POV

Anne finally convinces me to go to school instead of the hospital. She said she will call if she knows more but I wanna see him. The way we left things was just.. I don't even want to think about it.

On the way to school- Harry is driving me- I have to fix my make up so it doesn't look like I have been crying.

"Are you sure you are going to be alright?" Harry asks me.

"Yeah. I will be fine," I force a smile.

"You know you don't have to do that for me," Harry says.

"Do what?" I ask. I have no clue what he is talking about.

"Put on a brave face. You don't have to hide your emotions. I can see through them anyway," He smirks at me. I feel heat rise to my cheeks. How does he do that?

"Well, -" I don't even know what to say. How can I reply to that? No, you can't! Yeah, because that is mature. I decide not to speak and turn the radio as an Ed Sheeran song comes on and I sing softly along with it.

"White lips, pale face

Breathing in snowflakes

Burnt lungs, sour taste

Light's gone, day's end

Struggling to pay rent

Long nights, strange men

And they say :She's in the Class A Team

Stuck in her daydream

Been this way since 18

But lately her face seems

Slowly sinking, wastingC

rumbling like pastries

And they scream

The worst things in life come free to us

Cos we're just under the upperhand

Go mad for a couple grams

And she don't want to go outside tonight

And in a pipe she flies to the Motherland

Or sells love to another man

It's too cold outside

For angels to fly"

I love this song and I love Ed Sheeran too.

"You sing really good," Harry says, startling me. I didn't know he was listening. My cheeks burn with a blush.

"Thanks," I say.

"Do you play an insturment?" Harry asks.

"Guitar and piano." I reply. My dad taught me piano when I was 4 and I learned guitar at age 11 by my mum.

"Wow, you are one talented young lady aren't you love?" He asks and I looked down embarassed. "Why do you do that? Don't be embarrassed. I think it's amazing."

"Thanks," I repeat.

"I can play the kazoo," He laughs. I look at him strangely.

"Are you serious?" He nods. "Why?"

"I don't know really. But my main insturment is my vochal cords. I am the lead singer of my band."

"Band?" I question.

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