f i f t e e n

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It's going to be a long day. I took out a book from my bag and fiddled with the pages while reading.

I looked up. Jason.

He grinned all cutesy. I returned it with a smile. "Hey. What book are you reading?"

"Oh. Something with poems and stuff." I said in shock. Most people aren't interested in what I read.

He chuckled when I talked. "Didn't know you were all artsy, Kylie."

"Ssh. Don't spread my secret." I joked and looked back down at my book.

He laughed and I joined him. I looked at the door and saw Darren laugh with Melody, pointing at us. He's talking about us, duh. Hey, at least he's going back to Philippines with Katy because Darren's parents wanted Katy to go with them for TVK.

"He's talking about us." Jason said.

"Yeah. He's a jerk."

He looked confused. He knew I was Darren's friend. "Why? You two were great friends."

"It's just....nothing. So the prom is like, next week, right?"

"Yeah. Katy and...you know... Will they make it for the prom?"

I nodded and sighed. I looked at Darren, and he looked back, and I quickly turned back. I wish he understood! I can't be his friend! Melody grabbed her phone out and texted someone. I got my phone out and got a message. Melody.

Bxtch: Heyyyyy! Thanks for actually giving him to me! Don't worry, he'll be much happier with me that he ever was with you.

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"Kylie! Get dressed, were going to dinner with the Espanto's." My mom said when I opened the door.

Ugh! The Espanto's! Why couldn't it be Luke or something? I dashed upstairs and put on some jeans and a hoodie. I ran downstairs and my mom laughed.

"Kylie, we're going to a fancy restaurant were going to, not the grocery shop!"

I ran back upstairs and looked around in my closet. I had a lot of jeans, hoodies, Paramore shirts and other band shirts. I looked the the dresses I had and scowled. Most of them were too girly and above the knee (I hate my legs being exposed!). I finally chose a simple white dress, it was fluffy at the bottom, and I put some skin tone stockings, and my black flats. I curled my hair and applied a bit of makeup.

"You look wonderful!" My mom said.

"Stunning!" My dad said.

"It's...okay." My brother said. I slapped his arm gently.

I put on my black shoulder bag and headband and we headed to the car. For ten minutes, it was just mostly driving, until we reached a very elegant restaurant.

As we entered, the Espanto's weren't here yet, so we chose the seats. My mom wanted the one near the window, because this restaurant had a crazy awesome view! I got lost in the beautiful view. I love it! Then I noticed my mom started to talk to...Darren's mom. I looked at her and they were here. The Espanto's. I looked at Lynelle first, in a cute purple dress with small flowers. She sat near Jacob, my brother.

Then I noticed Darren. He looked handsome in his polo. His hair slicked back, and- No. Stop! Please! I don't want to do this. He sat in a place where nobody sat near him, and my mom nudged me. "Sit with him." I can't rebel against her. I stood up and sat near him. He played with his fork and looked at me. His eyes met mine for a second but he looked away.

I didn't talk, and he didn't either. It just remained that way. My mom nudged me and I got the message. I'm supposed to talk. Okay.

"Hi." I muttered.

He didn't answer, and his dad nudged him too. He scowled. "Hi." He muttered.

I laughed. Parents are funny. They always nudge you and try to make you

We went back to being awkward, until the food came. My spaghetti looked so good, but I didn't want to eat. "Um, can I go outside for a bit?" I asked.

"Oh sure." Darren's mom said. I walked out to the terrace. It started to get dark. I noticed someone walk to the terrace. I looked back and saw Darren lean against the wall.

"Why?" He said.

"Please, don't ask that. We can't be friends. I wish you could understand."

"You see, I can understand, if you told me why?!"

"Okay, sure, I'll tell you! I get bullied and threatened because we're friends. Understand now?!"

He looked down at his shoes, and walked back inside.

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a realistic fairytale // d.e. // rewritingWhere stories live. Discover now