"Amy, you are not going to run away from the house, are you?" Bianca asks, shoving a fry into her mouth and throwing her bare legs up on the table nonchalantly, as if she wasn't wearing a micro mini black skirt.
It's lunch time, two weeks after we resumed for second term, all but six months standing between us and college. It seems like a long time ago when I saw a certain someone's penile parts.
A lot has happened since that night besides the wedding.
First, I turned seventeen. Then, the first term of senior year happened, the only remarkable thing about it a relationship between my former best friend and my longtime crush.
Jane Dulaney and Christian Grammer.
Let's start with Jane.
If anyone had told me when we were entering high school that Jane, my best friend since I was nine, wouldn't be with me forever, I'd have scoffed and thrown insults at them, in my mind, of course, because Mother taught me to never use swear words.
But Jane and I were not meant to be, because once we got into high school, Jane Dulaney decided that her nerd friend–me–, wasn't what she needed if she wanted to rule high school. By the third term of freshman year, Jane had become a cheerleader, ditched me for the 'populars' and I'd been heartbroken, like any other jilted friend in the world.
Sophomore year–which I thought I'd have to pass through, friendless except I started trying to find new friends amongst my fellow nerds–came and along with it, new student and a friend I'd never known I'd needed, Bianca Miles.
I'd almost run her and her bicycle over with my car–an old Jeep that was my dad's– that morning and she'd declared that it was a sign that we were meant to be and it'd taken just three days for her to worm her way into my heart and my life, despite our obvious differences.
Maroon hair so dark it was difficult to determine if my hair was red or brown on a rainy day, pale blue eyes and five feet six, I was nothing like Bianca. Five feet nine and still growing, she'd dyed her brown hair platinum blond, had dark brown eyes and wasn't a nerd.
She was a people person; I wasn't.
She was a boy freak; I didn't like boys (okay, there's one boy I like, more on that later.)She was a party rocker; I never agreed to go to any of those parties, no matter how hard she guilt tripped me. She was model slim and gorgeous, had bronze skin that made me jealous of her tan; I was pale and slim with hips that were slightly wider, fuller breasts and an overall girl next door prettiness, my hair always in a ponytail or bun. She wanted to study theatre; I wanted to be a doctor. The only thing we probably shared in common was our love for novels and internet stalking (you didn't think I was a complete goody two shoes, did you?)Okay, back on track, Bianca and I have been friends since sophomore year and she's the only person other than my former best friend Jane who knows about my longtime crush, Christian "Chris" Grammer.
Dark blonde hair, baby blue eyes that up until my mum's engagement party, I'd thought about countless times –now when I think of blue, two pairs of eyes come to mind— six feet with a body that clearly worked out, star quarterback of Evergreen Highschool's football team, 'the Wolves' since sophomore year, Chris Grammer was every teenage girl's "It" boy.
And no, unlike most of his friends in the popular group, he wasn't mean, condescending and stuck up. He was nice and warm and always had a smile on his face. We'd gone to the same school since elementary but it wasn't till the start of freshman year when he'd piggybacked me to the school nurse after I sprained my ankle right beside the football court (while staring at him), that I developed a crush. We didn't talk much after that, but he always smiled at me whenever he saw me. Jane, who'd still been my friend at the start of freshman year was the only person I'd told. And now, three years later, she's dating him. The head cheerleader and queen bitch of Evergreen High–Bianca's words not mine because I don't cuss.
I'd always blamed being a nerd as the reason Jane and I split up, until she'd personally stopped by my locker first day of Senior year to inform me that she and Chris had started dating during the long holiday, a cruel smile playing on her lips.
"You don't mind that I'm taking him, right, Amy? I mean, of course you don't, it's not like he knows you exist or that you dated or anything."
That's when I knew that for some reason, Jane had moved from actively ignoring me to actively hating on me. These days, she made sure to sneer whenever we were in the same vicinity. I'd have minded her, except that Bianca was joined with me at the hip and was the 'it' girl in Evergreen High. It made me feel better that at least someone like that was on my side, and it didn't hurt that Bianca was also on the cheerleading team, so I had every reason to attend the football games and sometimes watch them practice whilst sneaking glances at Chris on the football field. That I couldn't have him didn't mean I couldn't look, and he still smiled and waved whenever he saw me so I took solace in that.
That, however wasn't the reason I was planning to run away from the house I'd finally started to feel comfortable in after residing in it for almost seven months .
Eight weeks after the engagement party–which I'd actively tried to forget–, Emilio and my mum had tied the knot in a low-key wedding ceremony. Thankfully, Miguel was a no show, and after that, life sort of continued, my mom still teaching at the elementary school and Emilio sometimes working from home or going to his office in Denver for business. The only times I saw anyone in that big house was when I was entering, leaving or during meals. Other than that, I spent the rest of my time holed up in my gigantic room, on my gigantic four poster bed, or sitting by the window where I stayed sometimes to read or stare into the woods. When I wasn't in the house, I was at Bianca's. I'd really tried to like Emilio, for my mum's sake and it was safe to say he adored me. I was the child he wished he'd had. Responsible, smart and not wanton. The hidden jabs at his son didn't go unnoticed, at least not by me.
My mum had started taking Spanish classes every Sunday at Mrs Perez's studio and she'd dragged me along, claiming it was bonding time. It didn't help that spending two hours learning Spanish every Sunday meant I was thinking of Miguel Angel at least once a week. I hadn't gone near that music room once. I didn't tell anyone what had happened that night, and the only person I'd have told–Bianca– was already crazy enough about him that she'd find it funny and ask about the size of his ...
Everything was fine, until October last year when Miguel's mum went into a rehabilitation center for drug addiction and not up to one week after, he was taken into custody for DUI(driving under influence). Thankfully, he hadn't gotten into any accidents but with his mother out of commission, Emilio had had to fly to Los Angeles to help settle his case. Plus he'd gotten into a fight at the party he'd driven away from and the assaulted person wanted to press charges. Because he was 18 (born 11th of May, thanks to Bianca's internet stalking prowess) and wasn't even supposed to be drinking alcohol, it had been a difficult situation, but because he wasn't an addict, thankfully and because there hadn't been any accident, another thanks coupled with Emilio's and Faye's connections, he was sentenced to three months of community service after which he'd have to be on strict parental supervision, his license revoked for six months.
Yesterday was when his three months of community service officially ended.
If all things didn't go south between that time and now, Miguel was already on his way to Colorado, to spend six months of probation under parental supervision, with his father. In the house. Where I lived.My stepbrother was going to live with me in the same house till I went to college. For six months!
"Like what you see?"
"I am going to run away, B. Can your bed accommodate two people?"
The snort she gives tells me all that I need to know.
I'm screwed.
Miguel's POV I expected a long speech from my dad the moment he came to pick me up from the airport. He hasn't said a word, just leads me to where his car is parked and instructs his driver to start driving. To Evergreen. My home for the next six months or less if I fucked up and landed myself in prison for good. I don't remember much of what happened that night in October, just that I'd assaulted one of my supposed friends for the garbage that had come out of his mouth and walked out of the party, getting into my car and driving off. It's not like I kept track of what happened when I attended all the banging parties in Los Angeles. My life since I was fifteen had been a blur of parties, drugs and sex and probably irresponsibility in the eyes of everyone because I'd dropped out of high school. I didn't take drugs, but nobody would've guessed that I didn't or why, until that fateful day in October when my mother, award winning actress and model, Faye Smith had publicly gone int
Amelia's POV I'd gotten home and holed up in my room, pacing and cooking up the nastiest scenarios in my head. Sure, even his father agreed that he was wanton.Sure, there was enough evidence that he was every bit the reckless, undisciplined playboy, his excessive personality mere icing on the cake. For God's sake, he slept with women who were old enough to be his mother and flashed his genitals at teenage girls. You looked, Amelia. And now I was going to be living with him in the same house. The house was big enough that if I played my cards well, I wouldn't have to see him at all, but we weren't talking three days, we were talking months. Plus, we ate meals together in this house. My mother had begged and begged until I'd accepted the tradition. As if summoning her, she knocks on the door and opens it, sticking her head in and then her entire petite frame. My mum was smaller than me, her head stopping at my shoulders. She's wearing a simple sundress, her red hair in a messy bu
Amelia's POV "Here are the rules of how this is going to work." I grit out, dragging the earpiece covering his left ear and throwing it on his legs as I drive us to school the next morning. Miguel is beside me with his legs on the dashboard, a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes, but most importantly and most annoyingly, his lips tilted in a smirk. Thankfully, the lip ring is on his right side so I can't see it, meaning unfortunately my eyes are stuck to his brow piercing, not shielded from my sight by the sunglasses, his curly dark brown hair falling everywhere on his forehead. It had been one bad turn after another when Emilio had called me into the study after dinner yesterday to inform me that Miguel was going to be finishing senior year with me. As if it wasn't enough that I'd see him at home and at school, since he wasn't allowed to have any money or drive, he was officially going to hitch a ride with me everyday to and fro, a means to ensure that he did go to school and come
Chapter Six Amelia I hated Miguel Angel Sanchez, better known by the female population of Evergreen High as 'Hot Angel.' Even Bianca couldn't stop drooling when he was around. Okay, hate is a really strong word, so let's just go with dislike. Strongly dislike. It's been two weeks since Miguel started going to school with me. Two weeks of hell. Two weeks of him stepping on my toes and trying to drive me to madness. Two weeks of unwanted attention. Two weeks of receiving glares from half of the female population because he was so openly affectionate; something I knew that he did on purpose because he liked seeing me squirm. Bianca thought it was the cutest sibling relationship she'd ever seen. I'd almost puked at that. At least he and I were on common ground with that one. We were definitely not siblings or related or step-anything. I can't be related to a demon. After that first day when he'd stolen my hair ribbon and I'd had to return to my car to get a new one, I hadn't
Chapter SevenAmelia"Hey, I said I was sorry, didn't I? He sounded genuinely interested in knowing more about you and you know he has that look where you can't say no to him." Bianca says as we walk down the hallway to the cafeteria for lunch. Of course I know the look. I've been played by the look already. On the bright side, there wasn't so much cash in my wallet and he couldn't access my credit card without my password, thank God he hadn't asked me yesterday when I was under him and he was on top of me and ...He's seated at our table, two girls perched beside him, taking pictures and giggling. I should've reported the bastard to Emilio so they'd take his internet access and he'd be left with nothing. Explaining how he'd taken the wallet in the first place is the only reason I hadn't done it. It's Emilio's fault for trusting me with Miguel's finances in the first place. I hate the smile on his face. I hate that girls are not impervious to it. I hate that I'm not impervious to i
Chapter EightAmeliaI hated parties. Still do. The one and only time I'd attended one was in Sophomore year, when Bianca had actually succeeded in guilt tripping me after one of the football games. There were only two reasons why I watched the football games religiously. Firstly, it was because I got to indulge myself with seeing Chris Grammer, my crush in action on the field. The second one was because the cheerleading squad performed before every game and before,I'd gone to support Jane and after our friendship scattered and Bianca joined the squad, I'd had to support her too even if it meant watching Jane glow and sensualize the crowd with her skills.Why do the bad guys have to be attractive? Speaking of the one and only time I'd been to a party, someone had puked all over my shirt and everyone had laughed. The laughing was the secondary pain. The primary pain was that I'd had to throw my beloved checkered shirt and jeans away. Since then, I've not stepped foot into any party.
Amelia's POVYou would think Miguel was the one who played and won the game by the cheers and whistles and back pats he receives as he walks through the crowd, my presence unnoticed as I walk behind him. I don't know how he deals with it. All of the attention, the people fawning over him, the hype. I guessed I never would. Miguel Angel was the son of a celebrity, a celebrity in his own right and was probably used to this kind of attention and fandom. He'd probably be receiving this kind of attention for the rest of his life. I couldn't imagine living like that. My eyes spot Bianca at the same time that she sights me and she whispers something in Adam's ear, standing from where she was perched on his lap and waltzing over to me in a stride that radiates confidence. Her smile is so bright as she shuffles past people to get to me that you would think she didn't just see me an hour ago. The sleeveless fitted blue mini gown she paired with thigh high brown boots, moves higher up her thig
Amelia's POV"I don't mind, actually, no." Bianca raises her eyebrows and when I nod, she shoots Jane a nasty glare, releasing my hand. "Do you want me to stay?" She whispers in my ear and we watch as some of the boys scramble to create space for me to sit. "I could go get Adam and his guys and —" I shake my head. "I can hold my own, don't worry. I'll text if I need you." She nods, concern still etching her features but the only thing she says is "I'll be with my phone" before walking away, disappearing into the crowd of people. Blake's smirk has returned but I ignore him and sit in the space that has been created between two boys, Ryan and Shawn, which places me on the opposite side of the circle facing Chris, Jane and Miguel. Shawn slings an arm over my seat and I try not to stiffen at the contact. However, he removes his hand almost immediately, placing it on his leg a moment later and when I look up to see why, I meet Miguel staring fiercely at him. When his gaze slides back to