WOW! It's really been forever! Thanks for all the support guys! (: I really appreciate it. I know it's really been...a long time and I haven't exactly kept my promises on this story :P. I'm sorry, forgive this bad writer of yours.
But it's finally summer! YES. I'll be up in Canada from Thursday to Saturday so I won't be able to update then, but if I get some good feedback, well, iPads come in handy on the road ;) hehe.
I missed all of you SO much and so this chapter is dedicated to all of you! Thank you so much for being my fans, and continuing the journey with "The Flirt Vs. The Player," this story would be nothing without you. (: *pat on back*
Anyway, Hope you like this one!
________________________________________________________
Chapter 8
Mia's P.O.V.
I couldn't stop thinking about Nate.
We were finally dating. Well, sort of. It's just a bet, it's just a bet, I told myself, just a bet. It was nothing more than that. Nothing. Nada.
My hands began to get clammy, and I felt restless. Finally, I got up, and began to pace around my room, the floor creaking every time I made a step. I felt unable to do anything or think about anything.
The only thing that consumed my mind was Nate and the bet. It's just a bet, I told myself again, just a freaking bet.
"Mia!" I heard my mother's voice from the bottom of the stairs, "come down for dinner!"
"Coming!" I shouted, ugh, great, I have to face Cole and Brett at the dinner table.
Brett, that little prick, he's probably gonna embarass me somehow about the interesting scene he saw a couple minutes ago, and Cole is gonna nag me about what's wrong. Oh, and my wonderful parents.
That's going to go down well.
Being the only daughter in my family, my parents have always been so overprotective. After Carter and I broke up, I was always careful about the guys I actually dated. But they were always concerned. They snooped through my text messages when they thought I was sleeping, talked in silent whispers about me, I mean I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but I could hear my name mentioned here and there, and after Carter, every date I went on, I "coincidentally" ran into Cole for some reason.
They can't think I'm not stupid enough to not know they're having my own brother track me.
"MIA! IT'S DINNER TIME!" my mom shrilled once more.
"I"M COMING." I shouted back.
Lazily, I opened the door of my room and trudged down the stairs. As I approached the dinner table, my darling litle brother gave his best "I'm-About-To-Tell-A-Lovely-Story-About-You" smile, which I returned with a "You-Tell-And-I'll-Kill-You" clenched grin. I saw Cole trying to stifle a laugh at our little scene.
"So how was school today, dear?" My mother asked as she placed a full plate of spagetti in front of me.
I shrunk away from the plate; my mom was a terrible cook. But she had this funny mentality and unrelenting hope that she would be an amazing cook from those TV shows that she spends all day watching while doing her yoga exercises.
And being the daughter of the family, of course, she thinks that I should be a cookng prodigy.
Anyway, today's meal was burned spagetti noodles with some gooey red lumps duly called sauce.
"Uh, it was good, um, Mom? Can I eat some yogurt instead? I'm not really hungry..." I pushed my plate away.
"Honey, I made this just for you. Wheat grains are good for women! And plus, it's my special! I learned it from Rachel Ray this morning! Doesn't it taste great, honey-bunchkins?" she asked Brett.
For once, I felt bad for my little brother.
"It tastes, uh, great, Mom! You're an, uh, amazing cook!"
"WONDERFUL! You can have ALL of mine then, growing boys need fiber." I said sarcastically, dumping all of the gooey mess on my plate onto his.
Poor Brett, the look of horror was etched on his little face as he watched me poor the limp and burnt noodles on top of his portion.
Cole picked at his food, before standing up, "Mom, dinner was great. But next time, let Dad cook. I'm going up, I gotta do homework."
Before Mom could say anything, Cole was up and flying up the stairs and I heard his door close, taking it as a signal for me to sneak away.
"Uhh, I have a lot of homework too, so I'll just-"
"No, you wait for a minute young lady." my dad said,
Oh shoot. Great, Brett spilled already.
"Yes, Dad?" I said putting on my best "sweet girl" voice.
"So, my inside source (nudge to Brett) informed me that you have a new...boyfriend?"
I saw Brett flash me an evil Ha-Ha-Got-You-Back grin.
Oh great. Now how to explain...
First thing tomorrow, I'm calling the orphanage. I hate you, Brett.
YOU ARE READING
The Flirt vs. The Player [Editing] (Overall Winner of the Wattpad Story Contest)
Novela JuvenilHe's hot. She's beautiful. He's smart. She's a genius. He gets all the girls. She gets all the guys. Except for each other. Then tables begin to turn for both of them when they each make a bet with their friends to go out with each other. But the...