You Messed with the Wrong Girl

This is my first "badboy" chicklit story. I'm more into Werewolves I guess. Soooooooooooo thoguhts? Ok here we go! TO NARNIIIIIIAAAAAAAA

I sat on the airplane, somewhat dreading and eager about my arrival back to my hometown. I mean, I was gone for 5 years since living with my mom. Not only that, but I am going to a new highschool as a Senior. Awkward right?

I was nervous to see everyone again. All of my dad's side of the family lived back in Texas and now I'm on my way back. It'll be no more sweaters and skinny jeans. It'll now go back to the short shorts and tank tops that I've missed so badly.

After my parents divorce, my mom thought it'd be a good idea to move me and her all the way out in freaking Canada! At first, I was hella pissed off. I mean, I had friends back here, I had a dad here!

Then, the other part of me was kind of relieved. First off, I was very overweight. I don't mean "A little chubby". I mean I was pretty fat. I weighed 187 back in the days of 8th grade. I was so embarrassed and I had this one guy, who was set on torturing me.

His name?

Ashton.

He was kind of the bad boy of our old school and God only knows what he's become now. Player, douchebag, bully, jerk, arrogent and obviously incredibly attractive. You can't have one without the other.

So hackin unfair!

Then there was me. I was overweight, self conscience, shy and had absolutely NO backbone. Anyways, everyday I'd arrive at school to one of Ashton's harmful pranks. I can't count how many times he's publicly humiliated me, and sent me to a hospital.

I can still remember one time he spilled water on me in the 4th grade and it got all over my white pants. My undies were pink with yellow flowers and My Little Ponies sprinkled on them. He announced to the class that I had indeed peed myself.

It was horrifying! The things he did made me feel even worse about myself, and that wasn't very helpful. not only that, but he helped make me feel more insecure and shy.

Yet now here I am, weighing promptly 118 at 18 years old. Kinda ironic if you look at it.

My hair has grown longer, my backbone hardened, and now I don't really take shit from anyone. I'm not the same fragile girl I used to be. I can stand up for myself. It's just Ashton that I need to have my 99 foot tall walls up. He knows how to get on my nerves, and how to scare the living crap out of me.

I soon got a text from my mother, causing me to grasp my phone and see what she said.

Kirsten, how's your flight? Do you wanna come back home to Canada? Jussay the words and I'll gladly come on a plane to pick you up!!

-Mama

I sighed. Dad texted her over the summer and declared I come back. I was nervous, yes, but I knew it'd be good for me.

The flight is fine n so am I. I need to go back juss 4 a little bit, it'll b good for me. I love you so much! I gtg, my flight is landing. I'll call you tonight, love u!

-Kirsten

And with that, I closed the phone and tucked it into my back pocket. Texas . . . here I come.

--

"Kirsty! I missed you so much!" My dad shouted as he hugged me close to his chest, constricting me and cutting off my breathing circulation.

"Can't . . . breathe." I wheezed. Finally, my boa constrictor of a dad let go. I took in a huge breath of relief as the air went in and out of my precious lungs.