Bad Meets Good

Yes, I'm Serious

Gemma’s POV

I took a glance down at my phone and quickly typed back a reply to my mom, thanking her. I’m absolutely thrilled that I’m going back home for Christmas. It has been such a drastic change from living in the UK all my life, to living here in the US. It was a cultural and economic transition for me and what made it even worse was that I didn’t know anyone here to begin with. I felt like a fish out of water the first couple of months, but I’m beginning to adjust to the California lifestyle.

The only sounds surrounding me was the laugher of children and the occasional chirping of birds. I have no idea why I even decided to take a walk in the park, but I’m glad I did. The whole setting is serene besides the revolting smell of newly cut grass.

My phone vibrated once again in my back pocket and I slid my hand in my pocket to retrieve it. I slid my finger across the screen and all too quickly, I felt myself being knocked into, seconds before falling backwards.

My backside came in contact with the concrete and pain shot right up my back.

Shit, it felt like I ran into a wall.

“Are you okay?” a male voice questioned, filled with concern. The first thing that caught my attention was his English accent, being amongst the first one I’ve heard here.

Maybe he just moved here too?

I gratefully grabbed his outstretched hand as he pulled me up with ease, catching a glimpse of his sleeved arm.

“Sorry” I called while holding my head down and stepping back some. I brushed off my jeans and shirt that had been ruffled up from the fall. I’m such a klutz, I should have been paying more attention to where I was walking rather than my phone.

After smoothing out all the wrinkles, I lift my head up and my eyes widen as realization smacks me in the face.

Instantaneously, tears began to form in my eyes as I look up at the curly haired green eyed boy my mother and I have been searching for all our life. The one who I’ve been separated with, majority of my whole life growing up as an adolescent. The one my father purposely took away in spite of my mother, because he knew how much he meant to her. The one who’s dimpled cheeks and huge smile could brighten anyone’s day. The one who I’ve never spent a single day without thinking about. The one who I love with a dying passion. The one that is an arm’s distance away from my figure. The one, that is, my baby brother.

“H-harry” I choke out and I feel a tear escape from my right eye, running down my cheek. I stare up into his eyes, holding this raw emotion that I can’t even decipher myself. It feels as if all the saliva in my mouth has dried,  making my throat clench.

“Gemma?”

I nod my head up at him as tears begin to blur my vision. Without a single word, I attack him with a hug almost taking him off balance before his arms encircled around me, resembling a bear hug as my feet were lifted from the ground. My arms cling onto him for dear life, for it felt like he was going to disappear if I let go.

At this moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the park. No one or nothing could ruin a moment so precious.

I sniffle against his shirt as my feet make contact with the ground below.

“I feel like crying some more, but I think I’m out of tears at the moment” I say. I undo my arms from around him and wipe the tears away with the back of my hand. I most certainly look like a train wreck at the moment, with, puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, a few strands of hair sticking up randomly and I can’t find a care to give. Happy tears are much more gratifying than sad ones, if you ask me. However, I’m just glad I chose the right day to pass up on mascara.