Wanton

Amelia's POVWanton. Utterly and truly wanton. That's the word I'd used to describe Miguel Angel Sanchez the first time I met him. It had been the night of my mother's engagement to his father, Emilio Sanchez; millionaire real estate developer who lived in a mansion on the outskirts of Evergreen, beautiful little town in Colorado. My town. Emilio had moved back into town three years ago after leaving with his mother when he was a kid, when his parents divorced (I know this because people gossip a lot in Evergreen), and in no time had established himself as one of the affluential and influential voices in the town, unlike his father who'd left the town not long after the divorce and was never heard of again.I'd never met him personally, only seen glimpses of him as he drove past town (make that as his driver drove past town), so it came as a shock, albeit an unwelcome kind of shock when my mother, an elementary school teacher, who I'd have never thought crossed paths with that kind

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 "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 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

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