The Summer I Turned Pretty Fanfiction Mga Nobela at Kwento

In an instant, I was covered in filth. The others frowned and covered their noses in disgust. "Ugh, gross! You're as nasty as you smell," one spat. "Beth, why do we even need to work at her father's factory? Let's find somewhere else to work during the summer. Just look at her. She doesn't seem like someone from a rich family." Hearing that, memories of my father's factory came rushing back. Suddenly, I began to shiver uncontrollably. "But I heard the city's biggest factory belongs to her family," Bethany Reed replied. "The pay is supposedly the best in town, and they even issue internship completion certificates."

But, wishes weren't horses. "I hate pointless rumours. It's appalling. Let me make this clear right here and right now that I would never in my right senses hook up with this... thing. I deserve better!" He snapped, his gaze pointedly staring at the crowd like a king addressing his subjects. "And you—" he turned to me. "Stop spreading such disgusting rumours." With that, he walked away with the crowd parting from him. Just like that, my heart shattered into a million pieces. Ashton Hall would never love me back. All I was and all I would ever be was the nerdy, ugly duckling that was never meant to be noticed or amount to anything.

Haha! ~Miss Pretty

Despite it being midsummer, the pear trees were all in bloom, and the ground was scattered with delicate petals, creating a beautiful, dreamlike atmosphere. When she had first agreed to Mitchell's courtship, it had been during the spring, the season when the pear blossoms were at their fullest. But Heather didn't linger on these memories for long. Her gaze shifted to Mitchell, whose intense stare held her attention. Even though she had already guessed some of what had happened from Vanessa's tears, seeing Mitchell in person still took her by surprise. In just three months, Mitchell had turned into a shadow of himself, his once muscular frame now gaunt and unable to even fill out his suit pro

Quentin didn't turn around, yet the faint rustling sounds behind him sent his thoughts spiraling. Even though he couldn't see her, his imagination filled in everything. Her collarbones, her chest, her navel, her waist—everything about her. Just the sight of her standing there made Quentin feel like he was under her spell. To him, she was like a drug that could take his life. Before long, Talia finished dressing. She finally turned around and looked at Quentin's back. She had thought that he would sneak a glance. She hadn't expected him not to turn around at all.

I said, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees, “I used to think white-collar guys were all boring as hell. But you—you're a special kind of uptight. Like, if you clenched your ass any harder, I think time would reverse.” Pretty turned his gaze back to me slowly, calmly, and said, “I will smother you in your sleep with that pillow. And I’ll smile doing it.” My face lit up. “There he is! Roomie bonding, baby!” From outside, the guards walked by again. One of them peeked in, saw me still alive, and muttered, “God help Laurent.” I winked at them. “He’s already in heaven.” Pretty boy went on to pick up a book, muttering something that sounded like “I need bleach.”

I reached Summer's bedroom door and swung around. “You thought he was your soulmate? Turns out you're not just dumb you're delusional too. He doesn't even know your name. To him, you're just the girl who'll spend all his money on animal prints.” “He's mine!” She shrieked, reaching out and grabbing my forearm, her classic red nails digging into my skin. “You did this to spite me! You're a snake! You're a disgusting, bottom-feeding—” I looked down at her hand, then up at her face as Summer held me tighter.

That’s a different kind of pretty entirely. An ethereal beauty that seizes my breath and ignites a protectiveness I didn't think I had, and maybe… claim her all over again. “I didn’t say you were pretty,” she claims, brushing her hair off her flushed face. “But you called me ‘pretty boy,’ didn’t you… Mummy?” I coo, and immediately realize my teasing might’ve backfired—because yeah, my cock just betrayed me with a sudden, hard jerk in my pants. Talk about being auto-sexual.

His fingers reaching forward the way a person reaches for something they have already lost. Summer's hair caught the last light of the afternoon sun. The strands glowed amber, then copper, then gold — a halo that lasted only a second before she turned her face away. He remembered the exact angle of her chin. The way her shoulders curved when she was about to say something she wasn't sure she should say. She had been turning toward him, then away, then toward him again, as if fighting some internal war that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with him at once. She whispered something. He saw it rather than heard it — the shape of her lips forming syllables, soft and fragile as wet

Summer The brothers grabbed hold of me and started dragging me toward the front door. As they pulled me across the living room, my eyes drifted to the exact spot where I had fallen and broken my neck. I stared at it for a long moment before slowly shaking my head. So, it had all been for nothing. Everything I had gone through. Every ounce of pain. Every sacrifice. None of it had changed my fate. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. The Moon Goddess could be so cruel. She had given me a second chance only to throw me right back into the same nightmare. If this was how my story was always meant to end, then why save me in the first place?