Stolen heart

Why can't they just be gay?

Maybe it was his smile. Maybe it was the way his lies sounded like the truth.
Or maybe it was my blindness.//

"Bella... Bella..." He rolled my name off of his tongue. His emerald green eyes looking directly into my chocolate brown ones. His tongue coming out for a split second as he wets his lips.
"That would be me, thanks for breaking into my house by the way" I laughed.
"I don't like it. I'm gonna call you Belle" he smirked, pulling his lip in between his teeth before putting his hand under my chin. "And don't say you don't like it- because I do. Get used to it, belle" he continued.
Parker had a wicked smile on his face. The curiosity of him haunted me every day after I saw him first. I had seen him in school, every day.As soon as he moved here three years ago, he instantly became friends with my four older brothers. They are juniors, and nothing like me. Parker and my brothers play girls just as they play football, recklessly. Every time I see a new girl around their arms I can't help but feel bad for her,knowing they would be gone in a few hours.
Parker was the worst of them. He disregarded girls in the worst way. As soon as he dumped a girl, he told all of the football team terrible rumors about her.
My brothers constantly tell me to not get wrapped up in guys like Parker- completely unaware of the fact that they are "guys like Parker". They're blinded by the fact that their daily schedule includes breaking several hearts, while mine is cramming for my classes.
Parker and I very rarely talk, and when he does talk to me, he chooses to pick on me for my flaws. It's a real confidence booster.
7:30 am- ten minutes before my bus comes- I run down the stairs of my house, trying my best to ignore the five boys that stand around my kitchen table.
"Someone's in a rush" my brother Ashton laughed.
I just flashed a smile as I straightened out my daily outfit, leggings and an oversized sweater. I grabbed a glass of the smoothie my mother had made before she left this morning, mentally praising the lord above for giving me such a wonderful mother, and smoothie.
"I don't understand why you don't just ride to school with us" my other brother, jake smirked.
"Maybe because I don't want to be glared at by all of your little toys as I pull up to school in a car full of half the football team?" I sighed, grabbing my books and heading for the door.
I was so close, so damn close.
Tripping over a tall figure in my way, my smoothie falls all over my sweater and leggings.
"Whoops" Parker smirks, brushing a hand through his brown hair as he looks down on my destroyed outfit.
I don't even bother to respond, I rush upstairs, already aware of the fact that my bus comes in two minutes.
I search my closet for another sweater and leggings to wear, throwing clothes all over the room. I mentally curse at myself, my inner OCD kicking in. I'll just have to clean that up later.
"Sorry about that belle" he says as he enters my room, not even bothering to knock.
I don't bother to respond, trying to find something to wear so I can make the bus.
"Why don't you ever respond to me, I'm nothing but nice to you" he frowns, putting out his bottom lip.
I couldn't help but laugh. Nice to me? Hah.
I realize at that moment, that the bus was slowly pulling out of my neighborhood, crushing my dreams of making it to school on time.
Parker pulls open a drawer in my room, as if he already knew what it held, and handing me a pair of grey leggings. He then opened my closet, sighing. "You really have nothing appealing in your closet"
"How did you know wh- hey I like my style!" I argued.
He reached into his backpack and pulled out one of his football sweatshirts, handing it to me.
"There's no way I'm wearing this, how many girls have worn this? It could carry some disease." I ranted.
"Actually, no one has worn it. Now you can either put it on and meet me downstairs so we can go to school, or not go to school at all, and have to miss all of your precious work" he smirked before turning and leaving my room.
I didn't have a choice, I threw on his sweatshirt and fell down the stairs. I didn't mean walked, I mean fell. I'm a very clumsy person.
Much to my displeasure, I piled into the car of a bunch of disgusting disease carrying football players- and headed to school. Not prepared for the day ahead of me.