Lip Gloss And Dirt Bikes {Book One}

Chapter One

Lip Gloss And Dirt Bikes (Book One of the Him & Her Series)

A story by Lulu

Author's Note: This is a new series I'm working on. It's the Him & Her series. The series is made up of four books. Keep reading and please enjoy. Tell me what you think? XOXO. ~Lulu

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Charlie's point of view

Chapter One

 "What's it like?" she asked over the phone.

"What is what like?" I held the phone with my shoulder, using my hands to fold the clean laundry my mom placed on the end of my bed.

"To be in love." She made it sound so obvious.

"To be in love?" I thought it over. "I couldn't tell you, Fabi."

"What do you mean? I thought you and Gram were in love."

I shrugged. "Not really." I sighed. "It's complicated."

"Complicated?"

"Yeah. Look, Fabi, I gotta go. Call you tomorrow."

"Wait-" The line went dead as my finger moved away from the 'end' button.

What was it like to be in love? I thought.

"Charlie!" my mom yelled from the other side of my closed bedroom door.

"Yeah?"

"Dinner is ready. Come down."

"Be there in a sec." I finished the last of my delicates, shoving the small pile into the top drawer of my dresser.

The dining room smelt of Mom's spaghetti. The entire family was seated at the table, their eyes grazing over the food in front of them.

"Did you talk to Fabiana?" my mom asked, setting my end of the table.

"She said she would be here by four."

"Is her mother dropping her off?"

"N-no. Aunt Vi has an appointment. But Tom is driving her."

"Tom? Since when does he have a license?" she questioned, shocked by the news.

I shrugged. "Since last June."

My sister was seated across from me, a look of diappointment slathered on her pale face.

"Heidi, dear," my mom began, "why don't you tell Charlie how your auditions went?"

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about your auditions. How did you do?"

She glanced up from her empty plate. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I messed up on a few lines."

"Well, everyone messes up once in a while. Don't worry. I'm sure you did great." I grinned.

Dinner went along as any other night in my house. We chatted about our day, finished our food, then we all went our separate ways for the night. My family never talked much besides the occasional information we shared with our parents. My father was always at work or in his home office. My mother was either in the kitchen working on her apple fritters or sitting in the living room reading her newest copy of Home Magazine. Heidi wasn't much a talker at all. My mom says she didn't learn to talk until she was five. I doubt it, but it could be possible. And all she does talk about is auditions for plays and musicals for the drama club she has at school.