"I can't seem to let you go," he breathed into my hair. "I'll see you very soon, Emmy."
"Yeah," I replied in a daze, as if the hug had just blasted me spiralling into the stratosphere.
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For Emilia 'Emmy' Harwell, there are many, infinit...
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"You're James Westlake."
It took a few moments for this to sink in and when it did, my mouth hung open off its own accord. Here Clarice was, claiming that this American boy beside her, the one who claimed that we were soulmates, was the James Westlake. Her favourite singer ever since his first worldwide number one captured the hearts of the majority of the female population. Admittedly, I had never worshipped the ground he trod on, unlike my friends and little sister, Isla, and his songs, although decent, were a far cry from the genre I usually enjoyed. That's right, I was a hardcore rock fan and sometimes my tastes strayed into the alternative genre. Nevertheless, James Westlake's music held no attraction to me whatsoever.
This couldn't be the same person. Clarice must have mistaken his identity, or been misinformed, or gone certifiably insane. I was praying for the first two options. Even as I was refuting the possibilities of her being true, some part of me was chastising myself for having missed all the obvious signs. He was American, had been chased by girls and had a slight ego on that matter. Additionally, he was currently hiding behind a Marvel cut-out whilst flitting his eyes around the cinema foyer every few seconds, not to mention how skittish he had been when I first met him. Coming to think about it, Clarice, Harriet and Roxy had all left me in the book shop earlier today before we headed to Hobbycraft, and had mentioned something about an "album" and "James Westlake". Of course, I was too immersed in choosing between two books to take much notice at the time, so it was plausible that he was here, now.
But so improbable, too.
"Uh, yeah," the boy said beside me but looked extremely uncomfortable and pained as he said it. I then remembered the statement that he had just affirmed and by this time my eyes and mouth were widening exponentially. Clarice, having been in a similar state of shock, blinked ferociously a few times before letting out another squeal. And Clarice hardly ever squeals. Today was becoming more memorable by the second.
"I so knew it! We were all so disappointed that we couldn't see you today at the album signing because apparently you had to bring your own copy, but wow, now you're actually here! I can't believe it!"
"Um, could you please speak a little quieter? I don't want to attract any unwanted attention. I'm kind of here in secret right now," James replied to Clarice and cringed slightly at the mention of unwanted attention. I could tell he was thinking about the girls earlier on in the day and had to suppress a laugh.
"Okay, well would you mind if I got your autograph and a photo?" Clarice started rummaging through her orderly bag to find her phone and one of her many notebooks that he could sign.
That's when I decided to step in. Or should I say, that's when I had fully processed the situation and decided to intervene.
"Wait! Hold on a sec, Reece. You still haven't answered my question." This last bit was directed at James and on looking confused by this, I reiterated. "Who are you?"
