Don't cry, Harry.

Chapter 1: INTRO

I woke up in the morning, annoyed. I heard trucks running through my bedroom window. I raced over to the window. Moving trucks. Weird, we didn't usually get a lot of new neighbors in Bel Aire. The gated community was so expensive hardly anyone could afford to get a house here, especially the one across the street. The warm Los Angeles weather swished through my room as I opened my curtains a little more. All I could see were men moving boxes and furniture out into the garage, occasionally through the front door. 

"Kylie! Are you ready for school?!" I heard my mom scream from the kitchen, 3 stories down. I turned my head to the clock. 6:40 AM. SHIT! I thought.

"Uh, yeah mom, just give me a second!" I raced across my room to closet. I sprinted up and down the rows looking for a shirt, shorts and shoes. I picked a vintage Urban Outfitter black tank with normal white shorts. The shorts made my butt appear bigger so I winked at my mirror. "Lookin' good." I laughed after realizing what I just had done. I am so weird. I look just like my father when he was young. Natural pin-straight brown hair, bright blue almost gray eyes, full soft pink lips. However my body, I obtained from my mom. 

A full 32C chest, flat stomach, sun-kissed skin and a nice skiny body. I fit my feet into some black Jimmy Choo sandals and walked over to my makeup vanity. I didn't need any foundation as my skin was looking rather flawless lately, so I just swept on some blusher, black Chanel mascara and a coat of nudish-pink lipgloss. Ready to go.

"What took you so long?" My 17 year old brother yelled at me. 

"Ryan chill out, you spend more time in the bathroom checking yourself out." I snapped back. He chuckled. He knows it's true. Ryan looks just like me. Loose straight brown hair that he constantly flips, a tanned body, very toned abs (which he works out for every day in our gym) and average height for his age. 

"Can we just go, already?" He whined. I am so annoyed. Our mother took Ryan's car away a couple of days ago after getting a speeding ticket. Maybe he wouldn't have had it taken away if it wasn't his nineth fucking speeding ticket he had received from the past 2 months alone. You can imagine why my mom was a little fed up. 

We ran outside as I opened the driver's car door. I would never let him drive my car. Not only would he totally destroy it, but this was my sweet 16 gift, my baby. The black Jeep Wrangler had diamonds incrusted in it that read Kylie on the front, back, and sides. My matching license plate read <3Kylie<3. I checked the back to make sure no one was in the way. Sure enough, the stupid moving truck blocked my driveway. I tried honking, but the men continued moving boxes. 

I furiously got out of the car, stomping my heels to the ground to hear the little 'click'. 

"Excuse me! But your truck is kind of blocking my way." I screamed. A guy with tan skin and black hair that spiked at the front came out of the truck. 

"Woah."

"Yeah, hi. I was hoping you could maybe move the truck? I'm already late for school." 

The guy looked at me up and down and smiled. I bit my lip, kind of blushing. "Do you live here?" He asked. I nodded. "Yup, right there." I pointed to the house behind me, not even looking away from his naked torso. 

"Wow. Me and the boys haven't stopped talking about your house. It's amazayn." His british accent just made him seem that more attractive. Amazayn? I've heard that saying somewhere before!

"Thanks, so about the truck...?"

"Oh yeah, I'll move it. Hey, do you go to Torrance?" He asked. Torrance. That was the first time I've heard someone call it Torrance in ages. We usually just call it West Beverly. "Yeah, I actually do."

"Do you mind if me and the boys follow you out there? We just moved here, and well we're kinda clueless about where to go."

"Yes, of course. Just follow me."

Why did he keep on saying me and the boys? I spinned around on my heel and headed back to the car. I felt his eyes on me as I got into the car. Good day to wear these shorts, I guess.