I know I’m being rather mean to her. She’s ‘in-like’ with someone and I can’t even give my tiniest support. If it is another guy, I may have given her the green light to go ahead and charm her way into his heart. But knowing that who she likes is Dylan Ford, the Dylan Ford, I can’t sit still and let her continue floating in her little bubble of fantasies.
Being a player set aside, Dylan is a god damn famous model. He’s popular (not only for modeling but also for sleeping around) and, I hate to admit, hot. I won’t be surprised if girls worship him or throw themselves at him without shame and be contented with barely a night of utter bliss until they are sated.
But Holly is not that kind of girl. How does she expect me to support her current obsession and thoughts of a future with Dylan’s face all over the picture? Seriously, I can only take so much crap in my life and I don’t care if she gets mad at me. I’m doing this for her. Because every time she has an unhealthy obsession over someone, it ends up jacking every possibility of a more suitable guy asking her out. She tends to have an unbreakable loyalty for someone that it gets extremely frustrating sometimes. She brushes off guys and walks around as if a yellow tape with do not cross is rolled around her.
Okay maybe I’m a little too much thinking so badly of someone I have never met, let alone seen in person. But his reputation precedes him. He’s all over magazines and newspapers and it is hard not to read things about him when my best friend is practically on the verge of falling off a very rocky, deadly, cliff. I need some things, some sort of proof, to pop her bubble and let her out of the dream—or rather nightmare—that I dare called, Dylan Ford.
Holly shifts on her seat and turns to me, her back pressed against the window of the bus. “I don’t really get why you’re so against Dylan. He’s hot, he’s popular and he’s got this panty-dropping stare. I can’t see what’s there not to like.”
I close my book and sigh. “That’s exactly why I don’t approve of him. He’s a player. It’s like a neon sign flashing right in front of your face. I can’t see what’s there to like.”
Call me judgmental or a foul-mouth but warning bells ring loudly in my head just hearing Dylan and Ford together in one name. Holly is like a smoke who’s about to touch the surface of an alarm. And I’d rather extinguish it before she gets soaked in whatever pain or hardship Dylan may bring her. I love my best friend too much that the mere thought of her falling for some jackass she doesn’t know anything about except for what she have read and what she have seen third hand is unacceptable to me.
She frowns and pouts before shifting to look out the window. Her eyes widen and her mouth drops the slightest. She slowly turns her head to me, a mixture of shock and excitement evident in her crystal blue eyes. Shaking her head, she says, “I still don’t understand what’s there not to like.”
My eyebrows pull together, confused. I lean toward the window to see whatever got Holly’s ears to perk up. My mouth drops, I think even a little further than Holly’s. Draped on one of the tallest buildings in the area is a very large print ad of Dylan in a suit—charcoal black coat, white shirt, silver gray necktie— tugging on one of the shirt cuffs and wearing a smug expression that nearly got me staring. I don’t want to sound like a massive hypocrite but I find him awfully good-looking despite my outright expression of not liking the things I read about and Holly’s fascination toward him. I just think that it’s absurd to like someone based on looks alone.
I hear a chuckle beside me bringing me back to where my mind should really be. My cheeks turn the least red. I lean back on my seat and casually shrug as if that face, those hazel eyes and those luscious lips didn’t affect me the slightest. I open my book to clear my mind of unnecessary thoughts and get back to the world I love the most, fiction. But not even half-way into a sentence, I feel Holly’s shoulders shrugging uncontrollably. Tilting my head toward her, I frown as realization of what’s happening and what she’s thinking dawn on me.
With her hands clamped over her mouth to suppress her laughter, there’s only one thing I can think of that can be the reason for this sudden behavior.
“It’s not like that, Hols,” I tell her with a scowl.
“Sure,” she rolls her eyes playfully, the grin on her face widening. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting you’re attracted to him, Cera. I mean, it’s normal. He’s one hot piece of meat. I’m actually thinking something’s wrong with you for not acknowledging the hot guys for being hot. I know you’ve got your fill of these gorgeous bulks of muscles all your life but unrelated ones are different.”
To be honest, I don’t know why I’m having this conversation with her when just a few minutes ago I was so hell bent on telling her that Dylan isn’t someone worth her attention. “We have our preferences. Just so happen I haven’t met or seen one meeting mine.”
“Until a moment ago,” she adds, smirking.
I groan, feeling a little frustrated and annoyed at myself. I let a little attraction seep out and this is what I get. “It’s nothing. I admit he looks like a damn god who fell straight out of Olympus but that’s it. I don’t see why you’re making a big deal out of it.”
“Oh,” she coos. “Well that expression a moment ago isn’t really an everyday thing. You can’t blame me for enjoying it.” She smirks. “Give me your phone.” She lays her hand palm up.
“Why?”
“Just give me.”
I don’t know why she needs my phone when hers is safely tucked in her jeans pocket but I hand it to her anyway. She presses a couple of things on the screen before she hands it back to me after a couple of minutes.
“What did you do?” I ask, taking the phone from her outstretched hand.
“Nothing.” She gives me a one shoulder shrug. “Oh. We’re here. Let’s go.”
She quickly scampers out of her seat passing by me. Can’t she wait until I get out at least? Shaking my head, I sling my backpack on one shoulder and follow her. Taking my phone out the moment I pass the school gates, I press a button to light it up and slide my finger across the screen to unlock it.
My eyes widen at what my home screen wallpaper has become. I lift my head and search for Holly but she’s gone. I quickly open my mail to send her a message.
THINK U CAN HIDE FROM ME?
I don’t care if I sound like a murderer or a creepy stalker. But God! That bitch. She always takes whatever opportunity she has to fuck with me. I pull my phone up again, looking at the screen. Dylan’s million dollar smile, smirk rather, is flashed on my screen. Holly put the exact image of him as the one draped on the building, the same image I found him rather irresistible. I frown at the thought. Sighing, I press the lock button and put it back in my pocket.
>>>>>
preview for the rewritten thingee.... i'll just be posting the prologue since yeah. idk when i'll be done... with the rest e.e
external link for old version. (:
