The Outsiders Preferences Novels & Stories

While most of them have fled, there are still a few inside, trying desperately to help others who have been buried. My hand still sizzling, I shake it off and pull it back. About to reach in and pull out some more wires, I stop when I hear Dr. Cho screams. It wasn't her gloating but her being taken by surprise. Looking out, I see the four OutCasts charging toward me. "They sure took their time," I think as I reach in.

I wanted to confirm it but I still don’t have enough courage. “Oh my god! Bran is coming!” “He looks so cool!” “Hannah is so lucky to have him.” I heard a couple of murmurs as a guy entered the cafeteria. I couldn’t help to look at him. He’s indeed eye-catching. He has messy black hair which actually suits him. His eyes emit a cold glaze and his jawline was super defined. Bran Nicolas. I’ve seen him a few times already and I know that he is Hannah’s boyfriend. Just by looking at their looks, they suit each other well. An IT girl with an IT boy, eh?

She looked at Ethan seriously, "I seem to recall that you hated those fruits the most. You only eat medium-rare steaks, and you never put any sugar in your coffee." If William hadn't reminded her not to get anything wrong, she would have thought that someone was setting her up for failure at the workplace. The list of preferences was the complete opposite of what Ethan actually liked. Ethan took the notebook from her hands and said, "You don't have to care about that." Ethan did not like people knowing about his preference. No one knew about his actual preferences except Olivia. "You need only do as you're told." The light from the laptop's screen shone on Ethan's face. It made his expressio

he says, faintly disappointed. “But,” I continue, steamrolling ahead, “I picked up a few things. You’re great at sports. Very active. A total adrenaline junkie … a risk taker — even when you race. You’re a San Francisco Boy. Your favorite color is black. You wear Dior Homme Sport. Because you are sponsored. Hate Brussels sprouts, love DQ takeout. You are martial arts obsessed, and wear size eleven shoes. You’re an outdoorsy, camping type. Choose dogs over cats. Have a near-perfect GPA. Only date brunettes. Don’t do relationships. Are terrible at bowling and even worse at croquet. You wear only CK underwear and sleep in the nude.” I exhale.

His golden eyes get so big they are almost completely black. Mate. Sweet. Mine. The crazy love comes off him in waves. Watching my face carefully to make sure I won't shoot him, he slowly opens his lips and slides his tongue over my wrist. Slurp. I stay perfectly still, crouching in the dark, watching him. The school doctor made a huge mistake about my personality. He thought that because I hung around Arlo, I must like the Light Faction. Wrong. I am completely shallow. I don't care about Light or Dark, Good or Evil. I just like people who have beautiful faces and perfect bodies.

‖ ―You must be important,‖ the boy agreed. Owen hadn‘t thought of it that way, nor did he think he deserved their praise. But he could see that this gave them something fun to talk about. He might as well make the most of it. ―Now, you three remember to be honest. It‘s much better to be Irving Spencer than Owen Russell. Irving is always honest, and he gets the outlaws each time.‖ ―With your help,‖ Amos added.

“Unless you’re ashamed of me?” They could have chosen a million girls who were prettier than me. Skinnier than me. Ones who grew up here in this postcard-perfect state of Whitehaven. I will always be an outsider. That question seemed to anger Alex. He flung his legs over the side of the bed and gripped the bridge of his nose. “Turn around and face the wall,” he huffed. “What? No,” I refused, folding my arms in front of my chest. “I’m not a five-year-old.” Although, my pouting face implied otherwise.

And that's a fact. She checked the time on her wrist while they are busy chitchatting about their standards with their dream guy. Ugh, as if standards matter when cupid hits you. “I'd prefer Hunter,” Olivia giggled. “He's damn handsome. Especially when he's wearing his business suit and how he glares. Damn, he's a daddy!” Krysie grimaced. Uhm...he really is? Okay, whatever. “I choose Carson.” Trixie curled her hair at the tips of her finger. “He's hot. And definitely has a good image, though others say he's heartless.”

Outsiders only saw her smiling as she waved her butt and crawled to the ground to pick up the bills while still laughing happily, and immediately thought that her smiling face was her ugly appearance, Did outsiders know to ask her "Ashley, why did you do that"? Ashley, did she not feel pain? At this moment, Meadow extremely hated herself, then resented Milan… Ashley had torn her hope apart, Meadow did not dare to think, under that calm face, at this moment, what kind of pain was hidden, how much effort was needed, to endure the pain shown through that calm appearance.

As I try to boost my hopes I will find my mate, I pass Melanie, who is dressed up cute to serve snacks. She gives me a wink, and I give her a thumbs up. Both my friends see me as the happy nothing can get me down girl, so she would be surprised to know how terrified I am right now. Because well...I think I'm pretty, but what if my mate doesn't. Maybe he prefers chocolate-skinned females, a female with dark hair, or females with blue eyes. I am none of those things...I could be rejected. I could be moving to Outcast in hopes someone will love me.