Novel & Cerita Jojo Approaching Me

She takes her glasses off, places them neatly over the pile of papers, and smiles. “Mom, this is Jo, my girlfriend,” I say and my mom smiles, looking at Jo. Jo looks at me nervously as my mom offers her hand to shake. Jo lets go of my hand, shaking it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, dear,” Mom says, and Jo smiles. “The pleasure is mine. You have a beautiful house,” she says and my mom beams at Jo. I pull Jo to sit next to me on the couch while my mom rings her obnoxious bell and the maid walks into the room almost instantly.

"Yeah, he's coming back in two days. And he’s bringing his wife. Supposedly a beautiful musician from England. What was her name again?" “Anna Witherspoon,” the man in the wide-brimmed hat said, his voice low. "Yes, Anna Witherspoon," the bold man echoed. "And why do we care?" Bisila asked, raising an eyebrow. "Well, because Andrew was the one we all thought could steal your heart, but now he's married. We’ve all tried, and you’re not interested in any of us!" the bold man grinned. "You’re all like fathers and brothers to me. Please, Travie, I’m years older than you!" she said, rolling her eyes.

JoJo's POV Make-up ✔️ Camera ✔️ Go live! 🎬 I click the red Go Live button on the I*******m app. Unsurprisingly, I have three thousand views increasing by the second. Dozens of reactions and comments flood my phone and I read a few, Sandrakisme: What are you wearing gurlll💘💘 them lips be smokin' Jainleo&san: Your make-up is super flawless Jojo😭😭😭 We need another facial routine🤧🤧🤧

I forced myself through the crowd, stepping over broken bottles and bodies. The DJ booth was damaged, the music playing in a distorted manner. The Dj himself was dead. I recognized him—a student of ours. My wolf growled, clawing at me to unleash the anger in me. But I reeled him in. “Not now, boy,” I muttered. As seconds passed, I finally got a clearer vision. “Jojo!” I yelled his name the moment I sighted him. He hurried to where I was and assisted me. “You were cut,” jojo said, placing his hand on a deep cut I didn’t notice on my torso. I winced, shifting away from his hand,

Chapter 35 "Hey, Babe. Wait up," Jiro said as I was about to walk away from him. "Don't walk away from me," he added. He hugged me around the waist and rested his chin on my shoulder. "Babe." He chuckled, which made me even more embarrassed. "Jiro, seriously!" I pouted and playfully pinched his side, to which he responded by giving me a kiss on the cheek. I'm just sixteen, and he said he'll only kiss me on the lips when I turn eighteen.

He’s typing. Jude, 10.25pm: Shit, sorry, I mean Jo. Typing again. Jude, 10.25pm: The Jo I know. I’m about to start typing but he’s typing yet again. Jude, 10.25pm: You’re totally not a ho, haha. I don’t know how to react at first, maybe because I’m caught by surprise. This… This is… I scream into my pillow. This is cute.

Please note the sarcasm. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Joy's POV

On the day we took our college graduation photos, a chubby girl holding a bouquet of roses stepped in front of me. Her voice was trembling with nervousness, "Alex Quinn, I like you!" I stopped in my tracks and gave her a smile. "Thank you for liking me, but I'm not interested in dating." I glanced at my reflection in the glass door. Tall and slender, with a fair complexion and smooth features, I was dressed in a gray tracksuit and sneakers.

Feeling very familiar, and how could Key still respond to their jokes? "I will check and replace the wound on your stomach first, sir!" I nodded, then some of the doctors immediately laid me down again. Gosh, somehow I'm feeling thremor again. This is not a good thing for me, because aju also has a dark past. I closed my eyes as the bandage began to unravel, my breath quickening and my heart rate suddenly pumping twice as fast as before. The image of the past flashed through my mind again. A hand gripped mine, I opened my eyes and “Key?” I cried in disbelief.

“My money.” The sound of boots buried on the ramp collides with the ringing in my ears and my red, bloody vision. He starts clapping slowly, that familiar, pitchy, slowed, man’s find chuckle from him felt like someone took an iron sponge, then scraped my wounds with it. I clutched my knees, trying my hardest not to look at him. If I did, it would make this too real…. “Good job, old friend. The money should hit your account by now… check.” From