[Highest rank: #84 in Teen Fiction]
Anya Brooks was convinced that the brown-eyed boy she met two years ago during her trip to India was the one for her. Things didn't go exactly as planned, though, and she returned to New York heartbroken.
When An...
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now and hereafter is forbidden without the written permission of the writer.
This is a work of fiction. Names and characters, places and events are of the author's imagination and any resemblance to person, living or dead, place or event is purely coincidental.
Warning: None of the unbelievably gorgeous guys in this book can be downloaded or bought on any online store like Amazon or eBay. Because they are are fictional. (Sorry to disappoint you.)
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The shrill sound of the alarm woke Anya up with a start, her mind still full of the hazy dreams she had seen the night before- half formed images of the sky lit up a brilliant orange, soft pink clouds like floating marshmallows, and the not-quite-forgotten memory of a boy. A boy with rich brown skin, with eyes as dark as the hot chocolate she had early every Sunday morning. A boy who had tenderly held her small hand in his warm ones, slipping his slender fingers through her short, completely ordinary ones, and had given her a gentle smile so comforting that she felt like she could have melted on the spot.
Shaking her head to clear the thoughts away, she glanced towards her dresser where her digital alarm clock had been placed. Its display read 6:32AM. Groaning, she sank back under the sheets; she didn't have to begin getting ready for school till 7 at the earliest. Surely, she could spend a few more moments in the cozy warmth of her bed with her blankets swathed around her?
But sleep refused to come; it was too late for her to retreat back into the land of dreams. Frustration creeping into her, she kicked off the covers and headed to the bathroom.
She studied herself in the mirror. A petite girl with plain brown eyes, caramel skin and a mane of dark brown hair falling almost to her waist stared back at her. Her worn out pajama bottoms did nothing to make her look any prettier, and she wished for the millionth time that she was a little taller, that her forehead and nose were a little narrower, that her features were a little softer. Sighing, she turned away from the reflecting glass. It was of no use to wish for a miracle that would never happen.
She decided to focus on more important things instead; for instance, she had to meet her best friend, Faith Hamilton, by the bus stop before the school bus arrived. Giving her reflection one last cursory glance, she dashed into the shower.
Mornings were often a rush for her, which was probably because unlike the majority of girls at her school, Anya didn't think that spending time on a dazzling outfit every single day was a necessity of life.
"Personally, I prefer to believe that oxygen is more important," she'd often reply wryly when questioned about it by some of her friends at school, who were by now so completely under the influence of their local "Plastics" that they were as likely to go "gaga" or whatever at the sight of a sale at the mall.
Not that she was a total tomboy, of course. She could dress up pretty well when the situation demanded it. The thought stirred up memories of her time in India. How she wished that things hadn't ended the way they had! She would give anything to relive it all- the wedding, the lights, the music... She almost laughed out loud as she remembered the look on Zayan's face when he had seen her in the beautiful, shimmering gossamer dress for the first time. Zayan. She caught her breath. Just the thought of him made her feel light on her feet. She almost felt as if she were lifting off the ground as the memory took her back to the brief, magical kiss they had shared. Her mind almost didn't register the sound of footsteps thudding up the stairs. The door opened and a girl came in, looking highly annoyed.
She waved her hand in front of Anya's face and said, "HELLO! Earth to Anya. Snap out of it."
Startled out of her thoughts, Anya finally realized who was standing before her. It was Faith. Every feature on her face was familiar to her; after all, they had been friends since the age of 4, when their biggest problems had been deciding whether to watch Bob the Builder or Power Rangers on the television.
The expression on her best friend's face was slowly morphing from impatience to annoyance, and she knew about Faith's temper. Uh oh. Time to leave. Quickly recovering from her temporary blank-out, Anya forced a small smile onto her face and said, "Sorry! I'm ready to go, I'll just grab a bite from the kitchen before we leave."
"Thank you," Faith muttered under her breath as she thrust Anya's backpack at her, slung hers over her own shoulder and started for the door. Rolling her eyes at the unnecessary dramatics, Anya followed suit.
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Short first chapter, but I promise it gets better :). Thoughts? Don't forget to vote!
Have you ever attended an event, like a wedding or even a festival, in another country? What was it like?
