Story Ideas. Tell me If I should Finish them.

Picture Perfect

Picture Perfect

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Life is hard. Especially for me. I could never to compare to my best friend, Suzanne. She's perfect. Blonde, blue eyed, pink lipped. While I'm a freak. Half- Cuban and half-irish is not a good combination at all. Red hair, I always look sunburnt, tight lipped, and my nose is a monster. My eyes are the only redeemable thing about my face, the only some what pretty or average thing about me.

Just like Martin Luther King, I have a dream. My dream may not be as inspirational, a little more self- centered, but a dream, nonetheless. My dream was that I would someday be in the same league as Damien Rivero, complete hottie. Every girl's wet dream. Including mine. Nick says I already am, but what does he know about beauty or popularity? He's a total dweeby guy.

Preview:

My name is Chrystal. Chrystal O’Dell. I am 18. Obviously, I wasn’t always 18. Right now I am in my in the five multicolored walls that make my bedroom. Let me get you up to date on me. About a year ago, I would have told you this:

Ok, first, don’t call me Chrystal. Everyone else called me Christie. I like Chrystal, but everyone else seemed to like Christie better. Second, I don’t like pink. I don’t know what my favorite color is at the moment, but pink is a simple color, so it was my color choice for everything. Clothing, decoration, anything. Third, I have reddish- black hair. Not brown, not orange, but reddish black. The only thing redeemable about me is my eyes. They change depending on my mood. When I’m happy, my eyes are gold. Sad or normal, they turn a light greenish- brown. Get me pissed, and you’ll be seeing dark brown orbs, glaring back at you.Fourth, I have two friends. Ones name is Suzanne. She is my best friend in the universe. I envy her. She has perfect hair, perfect tan, and her family is normal. Next there is Nick. He’s my second best friend in the entire world. The only thing is… he doesn’t like Suzanne. He says she isn’t a good friend. I think he’s wrong.

That’s about it. Oh, wait, one more thing. My mom is Cuban. My dad is Irish. Very unlikely combination. That’s why my hair is auburn black, and why my eyes are green brown, and why I have an akward coloring to my skin. As you can guess by now, my whole body looks contradicting. Like a pale leprechaun with a tan. Sorta.

I am going to see if you can handle me. And the filthy tale that is my life.

Before I tell you my story, I want you to knowthat if you feel disturbed with my actions or feel I am a nerd, I am with you on that one and you may drop this book with disgust at any point.

Still there? Ok. Good. You must really feel bad for me.

My tale begins as any other day would …… 

I heard a sigh escape my lips. The overhead jet stream of water made my head fell very warm. Rinse, lather and repeat. And repeat. And repeat. I have developed my father’s genes. Not at all a good thing, unless you like greasy hair and sweaty skin.

In the middle of my repeat, a knock sounded on the door to my walk-in shower, and I stared at the guy standing there. Wait… guy? It clicked, and I yelped, dropping the shampoo bottle, and took the towel from the hook inside the shower, letting it hang in the way of my body and Nick’s prying eyes.

I flushed, realizing that my next door neighbor had just seen me naked.

“Nick! How long have you been there for!?”

He just smirked, and said, “Long enough to know that you have a birth mark on your ass.”

I was beet red by now, wishing against wish that he would leave the bathroom.

“Uh, Nick?” I said. He was glaring daggers at the towel, and I turned it 90 degrees, so I could wrap it around my body. Shoving the door open, I stepped out, and that’s when I saw Nick trying to nonchalantly hold his nose.

“What happened?” I asked, wrapping the towel around my now dry body.

He mumbled incoherently something that sounded like, “thderhytmeshmose”

“What?” I teased.

“The door hit my nose!” He ground out, scowling.

“Aww, poor baby!” I said pinching his cheeks.

He slapped my hands away, went into the connecting closet inside my bathroom and began to search through my clothes. We always did that, he came early, and he picked out something for me to wear. He grabbed somethingfrom my shelf and took a shirt off my hanger, and threw it at me.

I looked down into my hands. A loose black shirt that said ‘I am Cookie Monster” in bold, white print, and white jean shorts. Why not?

I shoved Nick into the closet so I could change in peace. After that I did, I opened the door to find Nick going through a drawer of my…

“Nick!” I screeched, and snatched my underwear out of his grasp, he looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and reached in the drawer to pull out a piece of fabric covered with black and neon pink swirls.

O. My. Gosh.

I could feel heat rushing to my face as Nick held the thong in the air.

“What, may I ask, is this, and why have I never seen it?”

“No, you may not ask.”

“Chrystal…” Nick warned.

“Ugh. Ok, Fine. Suzanne gave it to me for my birthday a year ago, because apparently, I need to ‘lighten up’. And you have not seen it, because of the fact that I am still a proud owner of my v-card, and I do not plan on losing it to you.”

At the mention of Suzie, Nick stiffened, then he got the full message. “Wait… your still a virgin? Well, you learn something new every day.”

“You thought I wasn’t a virgin? Look at me Nicki, I have to have you dress me every day.I have tangle-prone blackish red hair, and my nose is the size of a van.”

He frowned. “Chrys, don’t put yourself down like that. You don’t need to know what the newest ‘rave’ is. You have your own sense of style, and you flaunt it, no matter what the cheerleaders say. Your hair is exotic, and your nose is the perfect size for your face.”

I stayed quiet, thinking over what he said. Then I grinned, hugged him, and said, “What would I do without thou?”

"Thou would surely die." He teased.