♥Chapter 13: 'Oh sugar. . . '♥

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Hello. . .

I know! I'm so bad at updating but I suffered like major writers block and had a huge case of laziness on my plate. But I'm getting used to writing at least a few paragraphs everyday. It's annoying how I can't see how many words I write on the app -.-

So don't hurt me! Please! I guess, I'm putting all my energy onto one book that I'm forgetting about the rest but I guess it's cos I have more inspiration for them but my ideas have flooded back!

Picture of sad Damon on the side and also a song that I'm obsessed with at the momento! It's Can't Remember To Forget You by Shakira featuring Rihanna! This song describes Jamie perfectly!

Anyways . . .

VOTE,

COMMENT,

FOLLOW,

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ADD TO LIBRARIES,

ENJOY!

.x.x.x.BiBi.x.x.x.

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"And then he asked . . . do you wanna hang out?"

"Shut. Up. What did you say," Lexi pestered.

I was in my bedroom, talking to Lexi on the phone while getting ready to be Mum's model. As I searched for a dress, the pile of clothes grew with every throw.

Pulling me head out of the cupboard I answered, "I can't," and chewed my lip.

"What," she shrieked before groaning in pain.

"Are you alright," I asked worriedly.

"I fell off the yoga ball," she muttered, followed by an ow. "Why the fuck did you refuse to hang out with Jack," she hissed.

"Because I agreed to help Mum for her painting thingy. Even though Jack is cute and Mum approves" - I think - "she will never let me go out. If I do, she won't talk to me for weeks!"

The pause at the end of the line was enough to calm down Lexi's anger aimed at me. I picked up a dress and scanned it up and down with the phone sandwiched between my chin and shoulder.

"Fine," she huffed, "but what did Jack say? Actually what did you say to him?"

"Well. . ." I swapped the position of the phone to the other side of me. "He scratched the back of his neck in an awkward manner and said 'it's cool' before walking off'."

There was a pause.

"He so likes you!" She squealed before sighing "poor Jacky . . . that probably crushed him."

"I felt bad but . . ." I walked to my bed and lay the dress down, pushing everything aside to make space.

"I know what you're gonna do! You are going to call him and tell him if you guys wanna hang!"

"What," I shrieked. Now it was my turn to hurt myself by bashing my forehead on my wardrobe door; hard.

"Ah sugar," I hissed as I touched the painful red bump.

"Hello?"

"Look, I'm not asking him out! I can't! Isn't it supposed to be the other way round; with him asking me?"

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