sweater weather⇝[k.k.v]

prologue

Kendall's POV
I clasp the handle of my coffee mug in my freezing hands, letting the warmth travel through my body. A feint buzz surrounds Starbucks, were everyone is involved in their own conversation.

I stare at Devon sitting beside me. His crystal blue eyes sparkle while the mop of pale blonde hair falls perfectly to the side of his face. Wow.

"Kendall, I need to tell you something," the cute boy comments, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

"Sure, go ahead," I giggle slightly.

"Um, I like you," the words echo in my head. The most popular boy in school just stated this. I am squealing with excitement on the inside, but I plaster a smirk on my face.

"I like you too," I mumble. Devon leans closer, what is happening? Before I know it, my soft lips are pressing against his, I smile against his skin,
my life is molded into a picture perfect scene.

Only, it's not.
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"Kendall, time to wake up, honey," my Mom cues, shaking me in order to wake me.

It was a dream. If only it were reality. I sigh, pushing my duvet to the side, I stumble out of bed, before shooing my mom out of my room in order to get dressed.

I slip on black leggings and an oversized grey hoodie. I put on a pair of Ugg boots that hug my feet in order to keep warm. I quickly throw my hair in a messy bun, not bothering to put on makeup.

I stroll outside my room and head towards the kitchen, where a steaming mug of tea awaits me.

I take a while thinking about the dream that occurred last night. I was so realistic, yet so cliché. The dream is practically the opposite of who I am.

Firstly, I love tea, and the bitter taste of coffee burns my tongue every time the foul substance reaches my lips.

Secondly, I am not popular. Sure, I'd love to be, but I'm a bookworm, and the number one rule in FRH is that no popular reads books.

Stupid, right? I much prefer getting stuck in the fantasy of some character's life. Of course, the 'it' group consists of 3 blondes, who rule high school wearing the highest pair of heels you can find.

Thirdly, I hate makeup. The feeling of something covering my face just isn't my thing. I don't have pimples, so why cover my face? I also hate wearing high heels and all those stupid tight clothes.

Oversized jerseys are so my thing. With snow scattered on the morning grass, I know for sure that this is definitely sweater weather.

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Author's note: hey guys, thanks for reading! I just thought I would post the prologue for this..

Please comment what you think.

P.s sorry it's so short, the prologue is meant to be...

Xox madisonzieglerr