*all rights to the original author*
It felt so good to be out on the field, messing around with Celine. It was a little weird at first because I hadn’t done any gymnastics since my accident, and I had to be careful not to let my power escape while doing all those flips. Celine seemed a little self-conscious at first, but once we got going she was perfectly fine in all her tumbling—kicked my rusty butt out of the water. I think she’d only been screwing up lately because she was so stressed out over the whole Zayn thing.
We stayed at it for so long that we were barely going to have time to go home, hit the showers, and be back before kickoff. I was mentally searching for the perfect outfit as I drove home, but all thoughts of getting cute or even going to the game flew out the window the minute I pulled up to my house and heard Carter’s voice coming from the living room, filling my parents’ head with stories of mad scientists.
That man was so dead.
I thought for sure he’d get the hint after I torched his house, but apparently it was going to take more than that to get rid of him. Maybe I’d throw him off the edge of the Grand Canyon. Or better yet, just leave him in the middle of northern Canada somewhere and let him find his own way back. That wouldn’t be murder, right? Not technically.
I barged through the door ready to throttle someone, but surprisingly, my dad looked twice as angry as I did. Angrier than I’d ever seen him, and trust me, that’s saying something. Funny thing was, he seemed angry with the wrong person.
"Camila Cabello!" When he shouted, the walls of the house shook, and for once I didn’t have anything to do with it. "You are grounded until you’re DEAD!" My teenage instinct to rebel won out over my shock, and I screamed right back. "What did I do?"
"You should have told us he was here!"
"I had it under control!"
"Control?"
Oops. That was the wrong thing to say. My father was choking on his words he was so irate. "You burned down a house!"
"I burned creepy surveillance photos and videos that prove I have powers. The rest of the house was an accident."
"And what about the physical assault?"
Carter told my parents I physically assaulted him? What a baby. I barely even threw the guy. "He was trying to destroy my life again. I was a little angry. And besides, you know where I get my temper. You’d have hit him too, and you know it."
"He did hit me," Carter grumbled under his breath.
I glanced at Carter for the first time and noticed that he was holding a bag of frozen peas over his left eye. It was easy to picture my father answering the door and punching Carter before he could get a single word in. "Nice." I showed no sympathy when I finally addressed Carter. "Let’s see it." Carter grudgingly removed the vegetables, and half his face was black-and-blue. I’ll admit the sight of him gave me an overwhelming dose of sick satisfaction and also made me quite proud of my dad. I raised an eyebrow at my father and laughed when I noticed his lips twitching as he fought back a smile. "You’re still in trouble, young lady," he said stubbornly.
I was good and ready to argue my punishment and defend my actions. I mean, yeah, maybe I burned the guy’s house down, but it was a crappy one anyway, and he really didn’t leave me any other choice. But then something else occurred to me. "Wait! Why is he even still here?" My mother finally spoke up. "He came to warn us."
Warn us? Puh-lease. I rolled my eyes. I know my mom hates that, but I couldn’t help myself.
"Don’t tell me you’re buying—"
