My Badboy Fairytale {Justin Bieber} [Sequel to He's Just...Different]

Chapter 38 - 'I Need to Let It Go'

Chapter Thirty-Eight 

SUPER SORRY, THIS IS LATER THAN I WANTED IT TO BE! :( Enjoy the chapter though! 

- Kellie's POV - 

The California air is warm but it seems cooler as I am driving. I feel free when I am driving just by myself. I just get this feeling of having complete control and I love it. 

I soon approach the all to familiar neighborhood in suburban Los Angeles. It feels as if I have not been here in years. I used to come here almost everyday after school and hang out. I wonder about his mother; she is practically a second mom to me. 

Zander's home is in sight quicker than I expected. Memories of us two having sleepovers and hanging out all come flooding back. Way before anything complicated started to happen. I have always been so close to Zander and so the way he was acting, made me sick to my stomach. I was scared I was losing a friend. 

I get out of my car and hurry up to the front door. I ring the doorbell and in seconds, the door swings open and there stands Zander. His eyes are sunken in, signalling he hasn't got much sleep. It worries me. He steps aside, one arm extended out to greet me in. 

I step in and am greeted with a scent of vanilla. Everything looks the same. The furniture is the same, the pictures are the same, everything. 

I go and sit down on the plush couch, silence beginning to eat me up. I watch as Zander follows and does the same, sitting on the far end away from me. He sits forward, his elbows on his knees. He looks exhausted. 

"So," he voice cuts through the thick air. The way it comes off and scratches, it sounds foreign. "What's up?" he's not looking at me. It irritates me. 

"What's up?" I retort, my voice stern with annoyance. His head jerks over to me, his eyebrows furrowed deeply. "That's all you have for me?" 

He narrows his eyes at me quickly. It's something he does when he thinks someone is being silly. "Okay, well then, how are you?" he replies with the same annoyance. He clenches his jaw. 

"What's wrong with you? Ever since New York -"

"- What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you? That's exactly what I wanted to talk about," his voice slightly raises. I slump my shoulders, not wanting to start an argument with him. I think we're already on thin enough ice as it is. 

"Please," I pause, breathing out. "Let's not fight," I move my gaze to look him in his blue eyes. He closes his eyes tightly for a brief moment. He opens them quickly, his eyes becoming hooded. "It won't get us anywhere," I mention. 

"Okay," he mutters, looking down to his intertwined hands. 

"So, what's been wrong with you?" I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back into the couch. His eyes settle from his glare.