I Will Not Fall For You

Hey guys, sorry about giving the intro. (Yes, I know it gets annoying. That's why it's just this.) So, this is my first time writing for this particular website, but I've done other ones before, so I'm not a total newbie. I seriously am in need of feedback, so if you have some opinions share them. I'm editing this when I'm done only, so I apologize to all those obsessive writer types who have to fix everything. (Come on, there is seriously no way I'm the only one.) Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter One

By the time I woke up, the sun had already risen. I kept my eyes closed, and would have tried to go back to sleep if somebody hadn't tried to body slam me off my bed. I groaned, still too asleep to smack Jordan.

"Would it kill you to let me wake up on my own?" I muttered, hoping he wouldn't hear me....Oh, who am I kidding? Of course I'm awake, I can't groan in my sleep.

"Now where's the fun in that?" Jordan teased as he walked around to the wall that I'd just slammed my head into. I could hear him laughing under his breath. Screw you, Jordan.

"What was that?" Did I say that out loud? Ugh, I can practically hear him giving me one of his signature lopsided grins. I can almost see his mocking smile and its dimples that just don't stop mocking me. Crap, I think the image of him smiling at my is burned into my eyelids. "I said SCREW YOU!"

"Well, if I can't get you out of there, you might just have to." For the second time since I woke up, I groaned at his words. Would it kill him to let me wake up on my own for one day. Seriously, if I get one day, I would kiss him. No, I wouldn't, actually, but still. I'm sure I'd do something nice...if I stopped teasing him about it first. Damn, then he'd just keep waking me up.

"That's it I'm co-" I cut him off with a yell. "Okay, okay, I'm up; don't you dare try anything!"

He chuckled, and stuck out his hand to help me up. Luckily, I was awake enough to actually see his hand. I stretched out my arm, and he grabbed it pulling me up. I let a wicked grin take over my face, and pulled myself up with enough force to pull him down. He stumbled forwards a few steps and ran his hand through his short, and extremely messy chocolate brown hair before letting the grin come onto his tanned face again. I wish I'd gotten his hair; but no, I get stuck with pale skin-that-sunburns-easily and frizzy dirty blonde hair. What can I say, I'm a lucky girl. Not.

"So that's how it is this morning?" He asked with a mischievous tone creeping into his deep voice. I looked at him warily for a second. Then he charged me, and my eyes widened when I realized what he was about to do. He grabbed me over the waist, slinging me over his shoulder like I didn't weigh anything. I didn't really mind getting a free ride down the stairs, but then he started tickling me on my side. That, and his shoulder was digging into my abs. I started laughing like a hyena, because I was lucky enough to get an evil cackle instead of laughing like a normal person. I don't really mind that much though; it's a lot more fun than laughing the normal way. 

"Jordan, put me down!" I managed to get out in between my gasps for air. I could feel him laughing underneath me. Then I started bouncing, and realized he was carrying me down the stairs.

"Jordan," I gasped through my laughing. "Put me down already, I'm not going down the stairs like this!"

"Did you say something? I can't hear you over the sound of some crazy hyena."

"Shut up and put me down."

"Come on, Ro, do you really want to get put down on the stairs? I'll put you down when I reach the table." I rolled my eyes at him. "Why do you never call me by my full name?"

"Ro, you know I think Rowan is a guys name." I gave him my most innocent look. "What, and I'm not a guy?"

"Well, if you'd let me check..." He set me down on the floor next to my chair, and I smacked his arm. "Good luck with that, Joe."

"Joe? Was that sarcasm?" He said with mock disbelief as we walked over to the fridge. I snagged a waffle, threw it onto the nearest clean plate and put it in the microwave. I rolled my eyes and walked over to the shelf over the oven to grab a glass.

"No, that was obviously my annoying pet monkey. I call him Jordan. Have you two met yet?" I drenched my words with sarcasm. Jordan just nudged me with his shoulder, which must have been hard for him considering he's 5'5 and I'm stuck at 5'2. Screw you, DNA, you're not helping me all that much.

When I finished breakfast, I back up to my room to get dressed. I don't really bother with my looks that much, But I don't really feel like walking to school in my PJs. I wear a soccer T-shirts and track shorts to bed, and I am not going to school showing of my creepily buff looking legs. They freak me out a little bit, to be honest.

Because I'm not normal enough to get changed in my room, I grab my jeans and head over to the bathroom to change and brush my teeth. Apologies to those at school who don't get rewarded with microwave waffle breath. That, and I'm terrified of my teeth turning yellow. Jordan forced me to watch a weird documentary on the teeth of people in olden times. Let's just say I will be forever freaked out about being left without my toothpaste. While I'm pulling up my jeans, I glance in the old, small, square mirror and grimace. Oh, look, it's the same old pale skin, the same old cold gray eyes that only look blue if you're a lot closer than I ever let people come. My tangled messy hair looks like a dark blonde cotton candy mess. Scratch that, this morning it looks more like in was assaulted by a combination of my pillow and a hairdresser gone mad. The only good thing is that I don't have any acne.

A sudden banging on the door makes me flinch slightly. "Come on, Ro, we're going to be late."

I splash my face with water, unlock, open and exit the beat up, white painted door. I dash out the door to the stairs, scooping up both Jordan's shoes and mine from their usual place at the top of the stairs. I grin a little at his habit. He can never remember to grab them, and I mean he couldn't remember them if his life depended on it. Every single morning I end up carrying our shoes to our car.

I jump onto the shotgun seat, tossing his shoes on his lap. He smacks his forehead jokingly as he starts up the car, and I smack his shoulder. Why is this car 'ours'? We weren't able to make enough money to get one each. It doesn't really matter, though, because if we need to go separate we have a bike in the garage. We used to fight over who would get to use it when we were little.