Intertwined

Indie

Indie

I could lie and say I'm okay with the fact that my sister is dating the boy I'm in love with, but lying is a sin, and I'd like to keep the number of sins I do to a minimum.

Don't get me wrong, I don't resent my sister, or anything. She's much better than me in most everything that counts; looks, personality, popularity. But I never used to mind, really. I looked up to Summer. When I was little, I loved to listen to her and her friends talk about boys and makeup. I loved having her as a sister.

But then she started dating Chase. My crush of over two years, Chase. I've have never resented Summer for all the things she had; until Chase.

She began dating Chase in her sophomore year, and soon after he began to show up at our house, giving her soft kisses and grins that made my heart skip beats. Before, he was the boy I admired from afar, the popular boy a year ahead of me with golden hair and eyes like blue birds. It was in seventh grade when I began at the junior high, and I didn't know my way to the cafeteria. I wasn't sure where Summer had gone, and I wasn't near any of my friends. Chase had seen me looking lost, gave me a dazzling grin before leading me to the cafeteria.

"Class," the teacher clapped, successfully pulling me out of my thoughts. I assumed he was just finishing up with the guild lines for the year, as most teachers did on the first day. "You're free to talk, since I don't have anything else to torture you with today." This line should have made me automatically like the teacher; I mean he wasn't making us do anything. Sounds like heaven in a lazy person's eyes, aka me, but I was also quite the loner, and didn't have any friends, or even acquaintances in this class; or any, for that matter.

"What's this?" I heard a deep, familiar voice ask, snatching up my leather journal. Having next to no friends, meant I spent a lot of time thinking to myself, so a few years ago I decided I may as while write down these thoughts. I brought it virtually everywhere, and I was quite surprised when it was torn from the rest of my notebooks.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, making a reach for my book. I looked up just in time to see Ryland Evans pull my journal to his chest; far out of my reach. Ryland was the exact type of boy I planned to stay far away from. He wore leather for God's sake. Okay, so it was only a leather jacket that he occasionally wore, but still. He frequently was seen with a cigarette in his hand, and he's gotten into fights before, and he was just trouble.

"Give that back," I demanded, making another grab for the black book that held dozens of my secrets and pages of me lusting on about Chase.

"Hm," Ryland hummed, as if he was thinking it over. He went far enough to tap his chin. "I don't think so shortie," he grinned, showcasing a row of perfect teeth. What the heck? Who even has teeth that white? I wonder if he whitens them.

"I'm not short!" I huffed, even though that was a lie. I barely reached five-two, which was honestly ridiculous. Ryland seemed to know this too, because the boyish grin he had, morphed into an amused smirk. My annoyance level was multiplied infinitely.

"Ookay, munchkin."

"What? I am not a munchkin, I don't see how that is even an appropriate nickname."

"You're short and cute, like a munchkin. It's simple really," he said, then adds with a smug expression, "Munchkin."

"Stop calling me that!" I was not made to argue with people. I was made to get along with people, follow, rather than lead. Truly, I was quite the pushover, opting to be the peacekeeper, rather than cause trouble. But this boy, I've been talking to for only a few minutes, and he was already under my skin.