MasukAge is just a number. Or at least that's what Maxwell Cooper thinks whenever he hits on his best friend's mother, Amanda, who is very much divorced and extremely attractive in his eyes. Amanda, highly aware of the obvious infatuation that Maxwell has on her, tries to avoid his advances towards her given their conflicting age differences. She speculates that Maxwell's attraction towards older women is deeply rooted to fact that he might just have some 'Mommy issues'. Maxwell refutes the hypothesis by claiming that he's only attracted to her , not older women in general. Both are put to the test when Amanda , returning from yet another failed date one night, runs into Maxwell who notices the tears in her eyes and proceeds to comfort her. This leads to her inviting her to her house which would be a convenient move seeing as Zac, Maxwell's best friend and Amanda's son, had gone to visit his father in New York for the weekend, leaving her alone for the weekend. They end up sharing a bottle of wine, getting drunk while reminiscing on the simpler days. A kiss is shared during the vulnerable moment between these two, which would lead to regrets and broken friendships.
Lihat lebih banyakHis house was still the same as I recalled during the days when I'd frequented it almost everyday after school or during the weekends. It still held its usual scent from Amanda's cleaning detergents and her tantalizing cooking. This familiar walls that held decades of memories between us four; him, his sister, Amanda and I. Memories I'd never trade for anything in my whole life and the bittersweet effect it brought me , almost bringing my eyes to tears. Tears of nostalgia. I hated the fact that I was overwhelmed with the idea of hanging out at his place, knowing how fond I was of him and his house. I hated that it made me feel vulnerable and sentimental as I slowly made my way into his room and my eyes gracefully took in the sight of what it had become. " Everything's still the same..." I remarked in a quietened tone , drinking in the sight of it and filling my lungs with the scent that dwelled within his room. His cologne and hair shampoo. His bedroom walls still boasted the
His house was still the same as I recalled during the days when I'd frequented it almost everyday after school or during the weekends. It still held its usual scent from Amanda's cleaning detergents and her tantalizing cooking. This familiar walls that held decades of memories between us four; him, his sister, Amanda and I. Memories I'd never trade for anything in my whole life and the bittersweet effect it brought me , almost bringing my eyes to tears. Tears of nostalgia. I hated the fact that I was overwhelmed with the idea of hanging out at his place, knowing how fond I was of him and his house. I hated that it made me feel vulnerable and sentimental as I slowly made my way into his room and my eyes gracefully took in the sight of what it had become. " Everything's still the same..." I remarked in a quietened tone , drinking in the sight of it and filling my lungs with the scent that dwelled within his room. His cologne and hair shampoo. His bedroom walls still boasted the
" You love him, too?" I didn't wait for her to take her seat at the teacher's desk in front of the class when I spoke to her. At first, she seemed clueless as to what I was alluding to, eyebrows knitted in confusion and then I repeated those pathetic words to her again, in a slow manner, almost as if I were speaking to a child. " You.Love.Him.Too?" I repeated, eyebrows corked up, waiting for her to get the reference to what I was speaking about. " And what are you talking about, you annoying brat?" She seemed comfortable calling me names as she set her books and laptop, in readiness for today's class, refusing to answer my question or at least address the issue of what I was talking about. " As if you don't know," I scoffed, folding my arms across my broad chest before leaning back on my wooden chair. " Know that you're still watching me undress through from across your bedroom window? Oh , I am well aware of your perverted tendencies," I let out another derisive laug
" Your eyes....are like windows to your desolate soul..." Emerald had found her , let's call it 'calling' ,in becoming a poet , deciding to sharpen her poetry skills as she recited a love poem that she'd wrote for some dude named Oscar Smithers. Unfortunately, we were her chosen audience and everything she recited from said poem sounded extremely cheesy and cringe, I found myself wincing every now and then. " As we dance throught he rolling green pastures called love, I hope we both last forever..."Tyson groaned loudly , voicing out our frustrations as Emerald concluded her poem with a curtsy."So, what do you guys think? Was it good, do you think I should send it to him?"The hope that glinted in her eyes was pitiful , knowing that Tyson was about to extinguish it in a brutal snarky comment. " That was definitely something," Nico spoke for before anyone could voice out their opinions. " It was....unique?" Jackie added, feeding me a pleading look in hopes that I too would join her
Ten minutes had passed. I was seated in the empty classroom with two desks, one that I was currently seated on and the teacher's desk with her files placed carelessly on top, something she rarely does, the perfect indicator of her being in a rush. I was anxiously drumming my fingers on top of my
Never in my seventeen years of existence have I ever braced the morning atmosphere before sunrise, at five thirty a m! I didn't even know that there was five thirty A.M! Abandoning the comforting warmth of my bed and covers to slowly crawl out into the crisp biting chilly air had to be one of th
" I'll need you to give me some space, a few moments to myself so that I can..... collect my thoughts,okay?" Amanda, completely detached from her usual iridescent personality, appeared aloof, distraught, almost disheveled as she sunk back into her seat, her eyes bored into mine as she requested.
Another night, painfully tossing and turning inside my covers, battling with insomnia led me into a depressive mood that slowly brought my thoughts into a dangerous path of wishful thinking. I hadn't studied for tomorrow's supposed pop quiz, couldn't bring myself to stare at pages upon pages of end
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