fundamentals of love ; james sirius potter

4. heavily romanticized childhood memories

Isla's making herself some cheerios and smiling.

A terrible duo right there.

"So . . ."

I'm shaking my head and trying to drink my coffee faster, my hands hold up my keys, signifying I'm leaving now. "I have the opening shift today," I tell her, rushing to put dishes in the sink and get out.

"He's handsome."

I pause. "What did you just say?"

Isla sighs, "I feel that words become outdated and nobody uses it anymore but . . . he's handsome. Like he transcends the word hot because there's like that classic handsome-ness in him. Or maybe," she puts down her bowl of cereal, looking puzzled. "Hanging out with all these middle-aged men is getting to me."

But, I can't argue on that because my mind flashes to the night before and how the warm cafe lighting hit his face. If people embody songs, he reminds me of Style because he does have that James-Dean-look. It's a bit funny considering they have the same name.

"It's the middle-aged men," I lie, shaking my head.

"I'm leaving tonight for Cairo for the next week, so if the house is empty don't think I got killed."

I put on an exaggerated frown. "Already?"

"The life of a travel journalist never stops," she sighs, then smiles up at me. "Maybe you can join me for my next trip, I'm going to Vienna."

"Relive Before Sunset?"

"I'll find us guys to hop off a train with."

The sunlight hit my face and I smiled.

But suddenly, there was a hand blocking out the warm ray and I started to laugh. When I opened my eyes, I saw my mum smiling down at me. It was one of her good days, which meant she'd spend it making happy memories with me.

Her curly hair tickled my nose and I saw her soften. "I'll be here," she told me. "When you need me, Ellie. I'll be here. You don't have to worry about me leaving anymore."

My face twisted a little, not believing her. "Nonna doesn't like you."

"Why's that?"

"You make dad sad."

Holly Sheridan flinched. "What do I make you feel?"

I didn't know what to say, but I saw that her good day was about to end. So I desperately tried to pull her back from the edge. "You make me happy. I love you."

"I love you too."

When I looked up at her, I just saw myself. Same nose, same hair, same eyes. Even though I might look a lot like my grandmother, I looked exactly like my mother. I've spent most of my time running away from her. But, I could never truly get far. She was always beside me like a shadow.

I'd been only about six at that time. It was when my parents had still been together. My dad was always trying so hard, he'd been picking up extra shifts and making it home late but still tucking me in and waking up early to drop me off at school. Mum and him fought a lot though, she'd always be screaming and he'd always try and calm her down but she'd always run away.

I hate her so much.

I hate her so much that I can't even breathe because anger rushes through me like a lifeline. I want to scream at her and for her to just die already because every day she's alive she's killing me.

Then, I remember the times when it was good.

Ice cream at the place on the corner with the owner that called me Cookie. Sitting in the backyard and just staring at the clouds and making up random animals. Watching the Star Wars movies and pretending to by Jedi. Building blanket forts and inviting my tired dad in and then attacking him with hugs and kisses.