A Player Felt Love (A Justin Bieber Fanfiction)

Chapter 4: Stop Pretending

(Femke's P.O.V)

"And what about the Jesse McCartney poster?" my mum asked me, holding the poster up to me. I looked at it and motioned her to stick it on the wall. "Yes, ma'am." she muttered and walked away, making me giggle. I continued unpacking my clothes and putting them inside the cupboard. As I folded my casuals, unnoticeably, I went in a trance. More like a trance-of-thoughts. Thoughts of this new place. What it held for me, honestly I am not looking forward to it judging how it taught me recently. It wasn't horrific but neither did I have a very positive feeling about this. I mean, my school. How lavish is it! But what does that mean? That it will be filled with stupid, obnoxious, self obsessed, spoilt brats who care about nothing other than their arses. Come to think of it, of Chaz. Was he not a flirt?

A complete flirt, he was.

We didn't talk for a complete minute and he calls me babe.

And then he has his friend Justin. The guy didn't even have the decency to greet first. Not that I was waiting for it, but this rule is amongst the basic manners.

And why was Chaz even so eager to get my number? Is every other girl so easy over here? For God's sake, what is this place?

God, what is wrong with me? I am constantly pointing out the negativities regardless of the thought that I have basically just seen 0.5/100 of the actual place.

"Femke? Are you done with the clothes?" Mom asked as she entered the room once again. I looked at the pile of clothes in front of me. Shit, I still had a lot to do. I need to stop being distracted so much.

"Uh, nearly." I lied.

"You're hardly done with the half of them!" she gasped in disappointment. "Where is your mind right now, Femke? We don't have all day!" and then began my mother's lecture about time management. And god, this one goes on and on and on and could go on and on and on if it wasn't for the door bell ringing.

Thank you, Jesus.

She went to check who was at the door and I took advantage of that time and roughly folded anything first that I got hold of and got done with half of the pile in 20 minutes. But the lesser the time, the clearer it is that I pretty much screwed up whatever I did.

"We need a gardener. We so need a gardener." Mom said in annoyance as passed by my room, towards the store room.

"Everything alright?" I asked, stepping out for a moment.

"Ah, yes. But we unfortunately have neighbors around us." She paused, sighing as she rubbed her face with her hands and turned towards the store room and grabbed a broomstick. "Teenagers. They played football and bam, ruined our backyard. The football hit all the plants and the vases and- it's a mess. Come take a look," she gestured me to follow her as she made her way towards the backyard. It took a flight of stairs, a corridor and a kitchen to pass as we reached our destiny and boy, was it a disaster.

"Wow," it came out as a shocked laughter. "Mom, this can't be unintentionally. This-" I motioned my hands around us, "-can never be an accident. If it was, just one hit and they would've stopped."

"Honey, I know. But I didn't want to create a scene either. We're new here and first impression-"

"-is the last impression, I know I know. But really, this can't continue." I said in annoyance.

"Let's see, it hopefully won't. Otherwise, your father and I got it all covered up."

"Huh?"

"We'll talk about that later. Are you done with the clothes?" she asked, swiping a little dirt away from the back porch.