give her love » james potter

20

"I wish I had sister," Rachel sighs, fixing Amir's hair for the tenth time. "You'd be such a good boyfriend."

He smiles mischievously and winks. "I can always be yours."

She lets out a loud laugh, but quickly sobers up and says seriously, "When you graduate, send me a letter, we can talk about it then."

Siobhan snorts, which causes me to smile.

Amir wandered into our cabin an hour ago, and in sixty minutes Rachel has fallen in love with him. They both continue to talk about some brand of watch that they're both dying to get on their wrists. For a twelve-year-old boy, he seems to have very good taste (better than most boys our age, Rachel has said multiple times).

But I feel that Amir's sort of fallen in love with her too. He's flirting in the way all preteen boys do, by making fun of them and telling her terribly jokes, but there are light compliments sprinkled in here and there.

It's very entertaining to watch.

I pull the blanket, Siobhan and I are sharing, over my shoulders and look over at the book I've discarded on beside me. It's Emma by Jane Austen. Which was my little sister's favorite book? Basically her Soul Food.

The thought of setting couples sounds funny to me. I imagine a seveteen-year-old Amir, tall like his brother, with the same bright eyes and shaggy brown hair, chasing after twenty-two-year-old Rachel.

"His hearts going to be broken, if she ends up engaged by the end of the break," Siobhan says to me.

I forgot about that. About Regulus, but more importantly Henry. But maybe he isn't more important. She seems in love with both of them in some way. Maybe not romantically for Regulus, but she loves him a lot. The way you'd love someone enough to go to his house as a possible wife for him.

Then I finally realize, "My dad's name was Henry too."

"Oh," she scrunches her nose, "do you ever feel weird about it?"

"I didn't even make the connection."

I'm trying to track down the candy cart when I bump into James. But I feel so normal bumping into him, that a part of me wonders, maybe I was trying to track him down too.

"Hello," he says, moving to the side, so his friend, Peter Pettigrew, can stand beside him. "I was wondering when you'd finally come to see me."

"I've never gone looking for you," I say, rolling my eyes.

James gives me his crooked grin. "But we always find each other."

I can't deny that fact. Somehow, we always end up running into each other. Almost like fate wants us to have at least one encounter a day.

Then he clears his throat, "This is my very good friend Peter," he says gesturing to the boy blond boy who's a few inches shorter than him. "Peter, this is Angelina."

Peter Pettigrew smiles at me. "I've heard so much--" he stops, then starts again, "nothing about you. Yeah. No ones like ever talked about you after coming in super late. Or like showed us footage of whats been filmed by you. Or--"

James elbows him. Peter shuts up. Then they both stare at me looking a little scared.

I'm not sure what to think of his little rambling. The thought of James even talking about me seems unreal. I've talked about him once and awhile, I suppose. But, I feel like James doesn't talk about people that much.

Unless they're important to him.

So as I stare at him, I ask with my eyes, am I important to you? But he isn't able to read them, because my eyes aren't a pretty shade of green that's oh so lovely to stare at. I also suck at communication. So after about thirty seconds of just staring, I give up.