Never Grow Up {Watty Awards 2012: Teen Fiction}

Part Eleven

A/N: Omg this week was exam week, and it SUCKED like a vacuum on hyper mode.

Like seriously whether it's for the tests that I studied for a really long time, or the tests which I just studied the night before, it was insanely unattemptable (or I'm really stupid, whichever's more likely).

Urgh, like seriously.

Anyway, I did say that I would go on hiatus til 2nd May, (my exams end on that day), but I'm a rebel who's flushing her grades down the toilet.

So here I am, publishing another chapter.

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Thank you! x x

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I scurried back into my house, making sure to lock the doors behind me. I sighed and turned around to see myself in the mirror. Unconsciously, I found myself running my hand down my hair, my mouth forming an 'o' shape as I touched the ends.

I had almost forgotten that my hair had been cut by the guys in the alley. Thank goodness Blake had diverted the attack from any vital parts of my body to just my hair. And afterwards he had used a knife - yes, a kitchen knife - to layer out and neaten my hair. I mean, there's no way somebody using a knife to chop off some part of your hair could ensure the haircut in being neat and stylish right?

My long hair cascading down my back was long gone. It had become a kind of habit when people asked me why I cut short my hair, I would just tell them I wanted a change.

Which, was not entirely false. I wanted a change, a change in Blake. But right now that was kind of seeming bleak...

Hey! I just realised that if you unscrambled the letters in Blake's name, you could form 'bleak'. Wow, that was kind of a downer.

Regardless, I refused to believe in silly superstitions. I went back to loading my carton of milk into the refrigerator and throwing out the old carton. Just then, the doorbell chimed.

I wasn't expecting anyone. No one ever visited me except my mother, but today was not a day from the summer holidays so it couldn't be her. Could it be the mailman? Or the pizza man? I don't remember calling both. I brought the door back, only to reveal the boy who was occupying my thoughts every five seconds.

"I'm sorry, can we talk? Just now wasn't what it looked like." Blake pleaded, his breath a little uneven, probably from jogging over here.

"I don't think-"

"Please let me take you out to dinner. I want to explain." He insisted, giving me this puppy dog look that made my insides tingle.

"All right." I succumbed, smiling a little at him despite my unhappiness at his choice to return to his deliquent ex-enemies. I know it sounds crazy, but when you're this much smitten by a guy, you'd probably forgive him if he did anything wrong. Shaking my head slightly at how whipped I was, I held the door open for him and said, "Why don't you come in? I need to go change."

He nodded and followed me in. I came to a realisation that this was the first time Blake was in my house. I silently cursed myself for not tidying up the living room or washing the dishes.

"So the dress code's formal, so wear a nice dress." He told me, snapping out of my thoughts.

"We aren't going to McDonalds, I take it?" I asked jokingly. Something about Blake just made me want to forgive him and let go of the semi-grudge I had against him for not reforming. Maybe it was because I had a soft spot for him.