Young Miss Novels & Stories

Chapter 2 Ana I scan the apartment one last time before I put my bags in my car. I think I have it all. Courtney texts me and lets me know that she is all set. I put the car key under a rotten plant on the porch and walk to college. Someone will pick it up for me. I only live around 15 minutes’ walk from campus, so I easily can get over there. It’s a nice day, even though I feel awful. My heart is breaking. I never cry but yesterday I cried my heart out, and today I’m numb.

I asked in a soft voice. She nodded and smiled little. I smiled back and pecked her lips. "I love you Mrs. Mia Yuvraj Singhania!" I said looking in her eyes with the love I've for her. She smiled wide that showed her dimples. "I love you too Mr. Yuvraj Singhania!" She said in a low voice whilst blushing. Her cheeks turned red. And I laughed wholeheartedly. This girl! She is still so shy. She playfully hit on my bicep and glared at me for laughing at her. I winked at her and covered her with the duvet.

She paused, clearly letting out a long breath before asking softly, "Where? At the reservoir about three miles from our place, or…" Actually, I was about 900 miles away, in my hometown. On the way back to my car, I ran into another angler, and raised a hand in greeting. "Yeah, that's the one," I mumbled, giving a vague, dismissive reply. Her tone immediately softened. "Then I'll come pick you up. Let's have a proper talk." I frowned. Had Christina hit her head today? She'd never spoken to me so gently after getting mad at me before.

Her name was Emory, and she was taking a year off. She was meeting up with a group of her friends in Anaheim. She was talkative, but I wasn’t really in the mood to talk. It hurt that Kari couldn’t say those words back to me, and I wondered if we would ever be okay again, but something told me we wouldn’t be.

The name Kadara Aimo means "unknown." Spanning three generations, it carries an enigmatic legacy and substantial wealth. Yet, behind this veil of affluence lies a poignant history. Mr. Alan Kadara Aimo, a towering presence in the family, died just four years after Lucy’s birthday. Unlike her siblings, Lucy barely knew her father. David, William, and Lucy represent the fourth generation of the Kadara Aimo lineage. David is cool-headed and understanding; William is rebellious and hot-headed; and Lucy is simply unusual.

There was nothing guarded about her expression. She looked soft. Innocent. The type of person who still believed most people meant what they said. I picked up the photograph. Missy Ryder was six years younger than Chase. She had kept a low public profile despite her family name. She studied media and communications and ran a small baking page online. Her account had a decent following, but nothing close to Allie’s. The report said she rarely attended major hockey events and avoided interviews about her brother. Interesting. I kept reading.

Far from the noise, it felt like stepping through time—every mile quiet, unpredictable. Mountains, lakes, oceans, old ruins, crowded cities—they all stuck with me. And somewhere along the way, I met Mira Mendoza. Gentle. Strong. Like morning light. Her smile hit like a warm spring breeze, clearing out the last of the gloom in me. She was sharp. Effortless. I was all in before I knew it. I knew—she was the one I wanted for the rest of my life. *** I flew back. I missed home—and I already missed Mira.

It felt like a joke. If kindness got crushed and hard work only earned suspicion— Then someone else could deal with this thankless mess from now on. *** My closure notice blew up both group chats. The pickup station chat went completely insane. [What happened? Why'd it close?] [@Annie, what's going on? Why shut it down all of a sudden?] [My package is still in there! Do I seriously have to grab it tonight?] [So where are deliveries supposed to go now? This is ridiculous.]

She made haste and slipped her feet into a pair of slipper and headed outside. She stepped foot in the street and ran toward the crowd and the mysterious object they surrounded. Making her way through the people, she came close to it. "Please give me some room." Her petite body managed to slip through the cramped space and she saw the same extravagant vehicle along with Mr. Bruce inside. "Is he a celebrity?" one of the indistinct voice coming from the crowd. "There's no way he is a celebrity. I am not someone who will forget a face like this."

She is going to prove to them that they were fools all along! No more Miss Nice lady, they would soon witness how devilish the first young miss of the Adams' truly is.