Climbing the Walls (OFFICIALLY RESUMED!)

Chapter 21: A Gentleman & A Schemer

Chapter 21: A Gentleman & A Schemer

As I’m towelling my hair, there comes a knock at the door. Raising an eyebrow, I tell Mere to go get it. A few moments later, she excitedly trots back into the room, puts her cell phone in her pocket and leaves.

“I’ll see you at supper,” she calls back. I shrug and wave as she leaves, excitedly. Must be Harry?

*MARISSA’S POINT OF VIEW*

“What’s up?” I ask cheerily, jumping down the steps towards Harry, as he fumbles his curls.

“Nothing much. I, err, just thought I would see if you would like to, uhh, get some food with me…” He trails off, sounding unfinished.

“Works for me.” I nod, “I like food.”

“Ahh, but do you like me?” he asks, stroking an invisible beard. I give him the up & down before answering,

“No, not really.” I say, as seriously as I can. “You’re too pale and kind-of British.”

“Well I don’t fancy you, either. Too tanned and Canadian,” he says, crossing his arms and stomping away like a kindergartner. He turns around, obviously laughing, so I giggle.

“Harry Styles, you are something else.”

“Not too pale, though, am I?”

 “Well, Mr. Styles, you’re no Sabrina,” I joke, walking over to him.

“Ohh! Do I detect a bit of jealousy?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at the notion.

“Never,” I say through a thick smile.

“Good, ‘cause she’s got massive knockers,” he jokes, mimicking two huge breasts with his hands. I playfully whack him in the arm, and we laugh. “Kidding, I’m kidding! I much prefer your boobs!”

“You haven’t even seen my boobs, Harry,” I reply, laughing at him.

“May I?” I can see his toothy smile in my peripheral vision.

“You know, I never fully understood the word ‘cheeky’ until I met you,” I say, smiling.

“…I noticed you didn’t say ‘no,’ then?”

“Maybe later,” I tease, as we walk.

“Fancy a detour?” He asks, grinning all the while. Duh. Before I can answer, he grabs my hand and pulls me down a skinny path I hadn’t really even noticed. After a few minutes, we come to an old wooden building. It’s falling apart, with moss and dead leaves covering the area entirely. From here, you can’t see back to the road, or hear any of the new camp noise. It’s very beautiful.

“Liam found this on a run the other morning, so he showed us lot. Quite nice, here. Peaceful,” he says, watching me as I look around.

“Have you gone inside?” I ask, feeling devious.

“’Course not. Why would anyone?”

“I don’t know! Sense of adventure?” I answer. “What if there’s something wonderful in there?” I stalk past him, towards the door.

“Wouldn’t that be a bit reckless?”

“Are you scared?” I taunt, “is Hawwy scawed?”

“No, I’m not frightened; I’d just rather not die in a shack in the woods on my first day of work,” he answers. I roll my eyes thinking British boys, and fumble with the knob. Boo.