The Story Of An Anonymous Girl ✔

Chapter 2

OLIVER

The alarm rings at five-thirty, and I wake up with a smile on my face, still a bit sleepy. Finally, today is the day when Mia will be in the same class as me. I have been meaning to ask her if she'd like me to show her around the school. I absolutely do not have the guts to do so though.

I move towards my closet grab a pair of black boxers, a pair of black jeans and a white tee and set it on my bed. Entering my bathroom, I splash my face with cold water. I needed to wake up to be able to practice for at least one hour. Brushing my teeth, I change from my boxers into my workout gear.

Stretching my muscles for about ten minutes, I move to the gym and spar for about an hour, concluding my workout session with some weight training. 

Quickly having a warm shower and scrubbing myself, I try to guess what Mia would wear today. Probably a tank top and denim shorts with sneakers.

I still remember the first day we actually talked.

"Hi, I am Mia." she says in the most enthusiastic and vexatious voice ever.

Ugh. Can't I even get a burger alone? I resent her. She is nothing like a girl I would ever want to talk to, but I have a sudden urge to talk to her every time I see her. I do recognise her. She has recently finished her Year 9 examinations and is also the class valedictorian. She is in Year 10 now like me. She is notably in every picture with Savannah and James. Most of them additionally have a boy standing beside her. Probably her boyfriend. One could denominate me a stalker or a psychopath or whatever. I had a significant affinity to her in Year 7 - the first time she had ever come down to Miami with her parents and that idiot boyfriend of hers. She is donning a black button-down shirt, which I positively relish on her with the most obnoxious knee-length tan coloured skirt ever. She is wearing black combat boots but has no tattoos whatsoever. Her legs just never seem to end like mine. A blond-headed akin to Savannah except her hair reaches her waist, unlike Amy, who has her mane hewed till her shoulders which I unquestionably abhor.

"I did pick that up from that dull conversation you had with Amy and Blake. I solely did not fancy to engage in conversation with you." I reply like a scalded cat because I realise that I'd zoned out thinking about her while simultaneously staring at her.

"Do you fancy telling me why so?" Amy asks in response. She is so irritating. I have no idea why Blake and I hang out with her.

"That is because she does not fit in our group. She unmistakably does not go to parties." I reply.

"What makes you believe that?" Mia asks me coolly.

"Well, firstly, you are underage, Amelia." I reply and she scowls at the mention of her name.

"And you are not? My name is Mia, not Amelia." She asks, rhetorically. I am the same age as her but it's fun to see her worked up. Not to mention how sensuous she looks when she's fuming.

"Furthermore, you seem like the girl who isn't suitable to get drunk and prefers to keep to herself and her books." I state in response.

"Who are you to determine that I am not suitable enough to get drunk?" She retorts sassily.

"Oliver Anderson." I return.

"Who might that be?" She questions.

"Me."

"So you do have a name, Mr Anderson. I don't care if you think that I am not suitable enough to get drunk." She asserts dominantly, making me almost back off but I don't give up.

"Yes, I do have a name, Ms Amelia Grace Thompson. Fine. Don't. I don't care enough for you too." I say, but in reality, I cared. I cared about her a lot. The whole time we had been speaking, I did not miss Blake checking her out shamelessly.

"Okay. That was enough bantering and bickering between you two hotheads." Amy butts in.

"Exactly. Mia, let's get out of here before someone is assassinated." Savannah says, giggling.

"Yeah, sure!" She exclaims coolly again, staring at me as if she would seize any moment to annihilate me on the spot.

She has invaded my heart anew, just like she had done initially. Why did she have to leave so quickly? I was enjoying our event of banter. Perhaps, after I told her that she doesn't seem like a girl to attend parties, she would certainly come to the one later.

This is the first time ever that I am striving to get dressed for a party at someone's house. I am enrobing my steamed white tee and the same black jeans from earlier today. Blake's been giving me a hard time about it. He keeps on bitching that I am dressing up for Madison - the last girl I hooked up with. I am not even scantily taken by her. All the thoughts I have in my mind are involved with Mia. I love the way lips form an O when I call her by her full name. I don't know why she doesn't like to be called by her full name. She doesn't like mayonnaise and jalapenos. I caught that while she was placing an order. Who the hell does not like mayonnaise? I don't comprehend why but I love that as well.

I snap back to reality as the warm water turns to icy cold and promptly dry myself, not wanting to catch a cold because of the abrupt temperature change.

I get dressed in the boxers, jeans and tee I had set on the bed before. I make a note to self to call Noah - my brother. He hasn't called me since four days and isn't answering Alex's - Blake's brother and Noah's best friend - calls or responding to his texts.

Moving downstairs swiftly, I whip up four eggs and scramble them while simultaneously toasting two slices of wheat bread. Placing the eggs on the bread, I finish eating my breakfast and grab my car keys to leave for Mia's place.