An Impossible Love [ON HOLD]

An Impossible Love - Chapter 1

A/N: THANK YOU for reading this story! I hope you like it :)

Note; I'm referring to the Dutch education system in here (somehow, I find the education system in the US really confusing...), if it confuses you there's more information here:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Education_in_the_Netherlands

Chapter 1

“Enjoy your meal,” he said, while smiling at a customer. I wanted to scream, to jump up and down, just to attract his attention. Of course I didn't, I just kept staring intensely at him. “Miss, I guess this is your order?” Finally he did look at me, but not in the way I wanted him to. He just had this business-like expression on his face, polite but emotionless. He lifted a white bag, which contents were the things I had ordered. Unsteadily I got on my feet (that's what you get from staring so long and nearly drooling at a guy) and walked over to the counter. “Thanks,” my voice shook. “Enjoy your meal,” he said in response. I gritted my teeth and walked outside. This was the millionth time I got here and he didn't even show any interest! I know, I know, I should use some more 'flirting skills', but how do I get them if I've never had any boyfriends? Nor have I ever had any crushes, he was the first boy I noticed – really noticed. I got my umbrella and opened it: it was pouring down like crazy. With the bag in one hand and the umbrella in the other, I ran home.

I got the key out of my pocket and turned it in the lock. Shoot! It didn't open. “Mom! I'm home!” I yelled to my mom, who was very likely to be inside. “Oh dear! Wait a second! I'm almost done!” My mom yelled back. I sighed. My mom was an artist and was always painting. My dad had died five years ago, from a heart attack, so my mom and I were the only left. I really missed my dad every day, but after five years  I learned how to cope with it. I had always wished to have a brother or a sister, just someone to share the biggest part of your life with. My best friend Samira almost felt like a sister though. I grinned; Samira really was the best friend you could ever wish for. At first, I thought that she was just an ignorant blonde, the kind of girl who only thinks of three things: boys, boys and oh, what's more to think of, boys. Oh, I meant four things: her appearance as well. And, how cliché, at first she thought that I was a boring girl, always reading books and having the highest marks of the class. One time we had to work together on a school project, and, although I really didn't want to work with her, it turned out we had a lot of things in common and got along very well. That was the start of our friendship, and we told each other everything ever since. There was only one thing I hadn't told her yet: my crush on the guy from the pastry shop.

I heard someone stumbling on the stairs and knew it had to be mom: no one ever was as clumsy as my dear mother. I laughed silently and waited till she had opened the door. “Hey Crystal, you're finally home?” she asked. “I wouldn't if I wasn't standing here, would I?” I asked sarcastically, walking inside and putting the now wet umbrella down. “Ha-ha,” she stuck her tongue out – mature much, you'd say, huh? “Oh! How sweet of you! You bought cupcakes!” Her face lit up as I passed her the bag and I blushed. “Yeah... I, eh, passed the shop and thought you'd like it if I'd buy some,” I explained half-heartedly. My mom laughed and said teasingly: “Oh, you sure it isn't about someone who works there?” “Mom!” I flushed even more; I was probably bright red about right now. “Don't worry, sweetie. I won't tease you anymore, I promise,” she pointed to the white bag in her hand, “and these look delicious! Oh, and by the way, I’ll be pretty busy from now on. I have this new painting…” She thought for a second. “Oh, have I already told you that I'm going to make a portrait of someone? The museum where I'm exposing asked if I could make one portrait. They think it'd be a nice difference, since I'm always painting more abstract things...” She babbled on, so I asked: “Eh, can I ask: whose portrait are you going to paint?” She looked puzzled as she said: “Didn't I tell you?” “Nope, you haven’t told me yet,” I said, and immediately regretted it when I saw the evil gleam in my mother's eyes. An awful thought came to my mind. Oh no. You've got to be kidding me. I shook my head. “No, mom. I'd really do anything for you, but that's the very one thing I won't do. I've said so many times before, I will never ever model for you. That's not meant as an insult, by the way,” I added, before she would get angry. She sighed. “You sure are going to be my model, I want you to,” she said in that light-hearted manner of her. I shook my head. “No way.” “Yes way.” “No way!” “I just said you would, and I’m your mom so you should do what I tell you to.” I pouted. “You’re just abusing your mom-status.” She giggled and I sighed loudly in defeat and shrugged, just to annoy her a little. “Whatever you want. I'm going upstairs now,” I said and tried to walk past her. “Hey, wait a second!” I turned half and raised one eyebrow. “What?” My mom’s smile turned in a very broad one. “I haven't told you yet the most important thing...” she stated. Both eyebrows were raised now. “What?” “Don’t I get a more eager answer than just ‘what’?” She pouted. “Just tell me what you wanted to say,” I sighed. “Well, yeah, I asked a boy to come too. He's the most handsome guy you've ever seen, so he's perfect for the task,” she chuckled. I turned completely now and stared at her. “I thought you only had to make one portrait? Why do you need two people? And,” I pointed to myself, “Why exactly do you need me? It's not that I'm really pretty or so and there are tons of other cute girls out there waiting to get picked for a modelling job.” My mom laughed her oh-so-famous-and-probably-a-little-scary-too laugh, “You’re my daughter! It’s different. Oh, and did I say portrait? My mistake, I meant kind of a painting of people, not a portrait. Or, you could call it a portrait, but then it's with two people, something like that yeah...” My mom babbled on again. I chuckled and wondered out loud, “Who's that guy then?” “Oh, it's someone I met when I was running an errand.” I coughed. Someone she met while running an errand? “You sure you can trust him then?” I interjected. Mom decided to ignore me: “Don't worry, I'm sure you'll like him. And that's probably for the better for you both, since you're going to be, eh, spending some time with him.” She smiled sweetly and then looked at her watch. “Oh boy, I have to go now! I've got an appointment in five minutes and I still need to change. You're going to be all right? I'm probably not home before midnight, I'm sorry, honey.” She kissed my forehead – oh, how I hated that – and ran off. I chuckled and said loudly with a sarcastic tone: “Oh, yes of course mom, I'll be alright. I'll just throw a party, invite some people, get drunk, you know, the usual stuff. Nothing to worry about.” Mom laughed: “I knew I could count on you, sweetie. Love ya!” Without changing, she blew me a kiss, opened the door, walked through it and then slammed it shut. “Ouch! My hair!” I heard her shout. I laughed silently at my mom, although she was so clumsy sometimes, she was the best. I sighed and walked upstairs. My room was the biggest in our house, which was because I needed it, according to mom. And probably because she used all the other rooms for heaven knows what stuff. I opened the door, got in and closed it. Then, I slumped down on my bed. It would be so nice if the guy mom was talking about would be Dylan, the boy from the pastry shop.

I woke from the ringtone of my phone. “Hey, Crystal here.” “Hiya! What’re you doing right now?” I heard Samira's enthusiastic voice say. “Nothing much... You woke me, you know...” I yawned. How embarrassing, to fall asleep when it's just in the afternoon. Samira giggled: “Well... Since you weren't doing anything interesting, except for wasting your time... You might as well come along with me!” I groaned, usually her plans weren't all that great... I thought about the time she wanted to go to a museum. Samira accidentally pushed one of the vases down, so it was like a domino effect. We got kicked out naturally... And we didn't do it on purpose, so that was so unfair! Another time we went to the zoo. She unleashed all her charms on the poor boy that had to take care of the monkeys because she wanted to hold one of those... It ended up with all the monkeys escaped and so we got expelled there too.

“Well, what do you want to do?” I asked, nonetheless curious what she was planning to do this time. “Uhm... Let's go swimming this time! Inside of course, since it's such beautiful weather!” she added sarcastically. I grinned to myself; this wasn't as bad an idea as I expected it to be. “Okay,” I said. “But first I want to drop by at Confection Cafe, you know, that shop that sells all those delicious stuff...” Samira laughed. “Ah, my mouth is already watering when you just mention that name. That's okay, though. Should I come to your house or are we going to meet up at that shop?” “Meeting up there is okay, 'cause it's faster, right?” “Hm, you're right. Well, see you later!” She laughed happily again and hung up. I ran to my closet to gather my stuff. Towel, swimsuit, hairbrush... What else? I put all the stuff in my favourite beach-bag and looked around the room. Did I get everything? Hm... Yep. Ready to go. I ran downstairs and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

Then, I went outside, locked the door, opened my umbrella and went to get my bike. It had gotten a little sunny and it was still raining a little, so a rainbow had appeared. I stared at it for a while when suddenly; I heard a low chuckle behind me. I turned. “Whoa-wha-what the hell are you doing here?!” I stared at Luca. “Nothing much, I was just going to go see your mother,” he said. “Uh-huh. And what business do you have with my,” I emphasized the word my, “mother?” He let out a low chuckle again. “Didn't she tell you? I'm going to model for your mother's painting...” He mimicked the way I said my when he said model. I glared at him. “No, she didn't tell me.” He smiled smugly. “Well, then. Please take care of me,” he bowed slightly. I felt the urge to hit him, but I suppressed the feeling and turned to get on my bike.

Maybe I should explain who this guy is. Luca is the one and only guy who can get me like that. Just talking to him makes me feel annoyed. He's actually a childhood friend of mine. I always played with him in kindergarten, but after kids started teasing us because we were always together, he started to avoid me. In sixth grade, he suddenly started bullying me; stealing my gloves or my earmuffs, telling other people private stuff… I was so mad, and I swore I'd never forgive him. Samira had always thought him cool and handsome, the only thing I could tell about him was that he was the worst guy ever.

I heard him chuckle behind my back. “Oh yeah, you look cute in that shirt,” he added. I flushed and immediately wanted to slap my cheeks. 'Jeez, don't blush when that guy says something,' I told myself. I hmpf-ed and got on my bike. “I don't know how long you're going to wait, but she's not coming home yet. She just left,” I said over my shoulder and rode away quickly. “Thanks,” he yelled sarcastically. “You're welcome,” I retorted. Then I quickly cycled to the pastry shop. I smiled to myself. I was going to see him twice today! Then I shook my head. Really! That I could get happy just from such a thing!

When I got to the shop, Samira was there already, waiting for me outside. “What took you so long? I've been waiting here for eons...” she pouted. “Sorry, that super annoying boy called Luca was holding me back.” “Ah-hah. Yeah... I get it,” she wiggled her eyebrows. I groaned, “You're serious, aren't you? Gah, how could I like that guy, he's so...” “Let's get inside. I want to eat something really delicious before we go swimming!” Samira interjected. “I don't want to hear you complain about him. He's so cute and he's like totally interested in you.” I snorted. “Yeah, sure, he's interested in me. He even bullied me in sixth grade, you know...” “You're still saying that, huh? I told you like a million times that boys like to bully the girl they like...” I raised an eyebrow. “Err, never mind,” Samira grinned. “Let's go inside, I'm hungry.”