Until Harry(30)

“Kale,” I said when I walked over to him.

He looked up at me when I reached him, and his eyes widened. His immediate expression made me very nervous.

“What do you think?” I asked, my voice a whisper.

He put down the magazine and stood up to his full height, which caused me to take a step back so I could look up at him. He was so much taller than me now. Over the last two years, he’d taken a big stretch and got lanky on me.

“I think” – he reached out and brushed the back of his fingers against my fringe – “you look just as beautiful as I knew you would.”

“Oh, my God,” one of the girls said out loud while her friend stared at him in complete awe.

I felt heat crawl up my neck and spread out over my face.

“Kale!” I hissed with embarrassment, and turned to Kevin, who was smiling brightly at me.

“I told you he wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off you, didn’t I?” he beamed. “I can spot a good boyfriend from a mile away.”

Oh. My. God.

Kill me. Please, just kill me now.

I looked down and tensed when Kale stepped up beside me and paid for my haircut out of the money my mother had given him. I thanked Kevin as we left the salon, and swallowed when Kale placed his hand on my lower back.

“He thinks I’m your boyfriend?” he murmured in my ear.

Shit.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” I said, laughing nervously. “He just assumed.”

Kale grabbed a hold of my arm and turned me to him. “Why are you sorry?” he asked curiously.

I shrugged. “Because I don’t want you to be embarrassed if people think we’re together.”

He frowned. “Why would that embarrass me?”

I blinked. “Because I’m not Drew. I don’t look like her, or any of her friends. I’m not stupid, Kale; I know I’m homely compared to her. That isn’t news to me.”

He stared down at me, a frown on his face, but he said nothing.

I looked over my shoulder and spotted a River Island shop. “Let’s go in there.”

Kale took my hand in his – I got excited shivers again – and led me to River Island without muttering a single word. He was acting very strange. He followed me around the shop as I picked up different items of clothing. I came to a black pair of skinny jeans I really liked, but I wasn’t sure if I could pull off such a look or not.

“Do you think I could wear them?” I asked Kale, and picked up a pair, showing them to him.

He looked at the jeans and nodded. “Sure, why not?”

“Because they are skinny jeans,” I said in a duh tone.

Kale blinked. “I don’t know what that means.”

Lads.

I rolled my eyes, making him snort.

He followed me to the changing rooms and waited outside as I began the process of trying all my outfits on. I tried on a few different dresses and T-shirts, then decided to get the jeans out of the way. They were a size twelve and slid on me fine; they even buttoned up great.

They looked good; at least I thought they did.

I turned around and looked at myself from every angle to see if my bum looked okay. I turned to the front and grunted at my tummy; it was chubby, but not exactly flabby. I wished it were flat and toned.

“What are you trying on?” Kale asked me from outside the changing room.

“The jeans,” I replied.

“Can I see them on?” he asked. “Or do you not want my opinion?”

I did want his opinion; I just didn’t want him to see me in the jeans, if that made any sense. I was going to throw on a T-shirt to cover up my stomach, but I thought the hell with that because I would need him to help me get a certain dress on in a few minutes, which meant he would see my stomach anyway. Besides Kale wouldn’t care if he saw my bra or chubby belly. He probably wouldn’t even notice. He never noticed anything about me.

I opened the door of the changing room and gestured to the jeans. “What do you think?”

Kale widened his eyes and quickly entered the changing room, closing the door behind him.

“Kale!” I snapped as I stumbled backwards. “What was that for?”

He turned to me and growled. “You’re in your bra!”

His eyes lingered on my chest before he snapped them away like his eyes burned.

I looked down at myself and then back up at him. “So? You’re the only one who can see me.”

“No,” – he glared, fixing his eyes on mine – “two lads are just down there with their birds, I’m not having them see you naked.”

Naked?

“Oh, give me a break.” I rolled my eyes and, turning around, asked, “Does my arse look flat in these?”

I watched in the mirror as Kale’s eyes dropped to my behind. “What kind of question is that?” he asked, staring at my arse without blinking as he spoke.

“A good one,” I argued. “I don’t want to have a pancake arse. I’ve been doing squats with my mum. I think they’re working.”

I turned around and looked at my behind again over my shoulder, and to be honest I was pretty happy with how it looked. I was fifteen – I wasn’t expecting to have a Beyoncé bum, but I was pleased with what I was rocking. Well, as pleased as I could be with my newfound knowledge about my looks anyway.