When It Comes To You [√] BOOK TWO

49

Camila

"Cami you have more mail!" Andres called from the front door.

I put down my uneaten toast.

I hadn't been able to eat for a while; specifically since Harry woke up after the accident.

It had only been three days but Drey was very worried and practically shoved food down my throat. He didn't know why I was feeling so sad though because I refused to tell him.

He already hated Cyrus and I didn't want to make it worse.

My big brother walked into the kitchen and placed the envelopes next to my plate.

"You still haven't eaten your toast?" He asked.

"Please don't force me to eat." I whispered.

He sighed and sat down next to me.

"Cami, what's wrong? Is it Harry or something else? Don't shut me out like this, I beg you. I'm your brother and it sucks that you can't trust me enough to tell me when something is bothering you." He said.

I couldn't take it anymore. Almost as soon as his hand touched my shoulder, I burst into tears and told him everything that had been bothering me.

"And you think Cyrus is in danger?" He asked me afterwards.

"I dunno, Drey. What Harry said makes no sense and I haven't been able to go see him in the hospital again. He hates me and probably wouldn't want to talk to me anyway." I answered.

"But why would Cyrus just leave like that? His feelings for you seemed genuine. And don't worry about Harry. He doesn't hate you- he's incapable of hating anyone."

I scoffed. "Firstly, I thought you hated Cyrus and secondly, you didn't see Harry's face when I told him. He refused to even look at me."

Drey sighed. "Harry's just hurt. Give him time and he'll come around, you'll see. And I don't hate Cyrus. I just think he's hiding something from us."

I thought of Cyrus and his beautiful angel white wings and tried not to smile.

He left you, I reminded myself.

"Oh look at the time! I'm going to be late!" I said, looking at my wristwatch.

"Oh let me take you. I'm not going to work today." Drey offered.

He worked as a dance instructor at Patty's Dance Studio.

"Thank you." I replied.

We left the house and after making sure the door was locked properly, we drove off.

"So who won best bake yesterday?" Drey asked me.

"Keagan. He also won the day before that and the day before that."

"Wait. Does that mean he got the purple apron?" My brother exclaimed about five minutes later.

"No. He has a red one now. He won four times in a row. To get the purple one you need to win five times." I replied.

"You can't let him win Camila! I thought you wanted to get that apron first!"

I sighed. "I really don't care anymore, Drey."

He parked the car outside the building and turned to face me.

"No. You are going to get in there and you're going to bake the best freaking cake those losers have ever tasted and you will win best bake."

I scoffed. "And for what? To get a stupid apron?"

"No. To prove to me and every single person in that class, including you, that you're the best Baker there."