Perfect Kiss

Chapter 1- Falling

"My name is Jannette. I am sixteen and currently falling for a Jock who is way out of my league. Not much of a shocker, considering every boy who is ever nice to me steals my heart." I wrote in my journal.

Normally, I don't write in my journal. I'm alone.

So yeah, the Jock. His name is Zachary Klolabur. I call him Zach. I am Jannette Etzin. Sixteen, while Zachary is aswell. I consider this as soulmates unite. I suck at jokes.

As I parked my skateboard next to the water heating system at my school, I unbuckled my helmet and balanced it onto the top of my board. I began to walk behind me to class when, BAM! Christopher was in my face. "Boo!" He snorted.

I let out a smile for his amusement. "Skater girl? Where have you been all week?" He asked.

I grinned slightly. "I've been here, waiting for you." I replied.

He leaned in to kiss me, but I stretched away. "Not today weirdo." I laughed.

"I've been waiting for this kiss for two years Jannette Etzin!" He shouted as I walked to class.

Christopher was usually the person to be your best friend, then creep you out-- a bunch! As I walked through halls, people stared at me. Usually they do, not surprising. Considering I'm wearing extremely dark eye makeup, a black tank-top advertising a band, fairly bleached skinny jeans, and some black vans, people usually laughed at stuff I was wearing during summer. This was a year-round look for me. Yes, I said summer. The year is nearing to an end. I find it almost sad, actually... Nah. I'm joking. It's the beginning of year two in Highschool. A fairly good experience.

As I passed Zachary, I purposely brushed by his side. He looked at me almost a split second after and stopped me. "Skatergirl! Wanna talk?" He said in his relaxing musky tone.

Stunned, I replied almost immediatly. "Sure. What about?" I asked.

"Lets start with what you're wearing. Aren't you... Hot?" He said.

I blushed. He was obviously flirting with me.

Probably not.

"Pshh... This old thang?" I overreacted it.

I caught him looking at my hair again. Somehow, the texture, color, length of my hair naturally amazes him. My hair was an orangish-red. Kind of tangy. It was short and I had short bangs brushed to the side. By short hair, I mean it was almost shaved. My green eyes and many freckles complimented it. I was a walking talking science experiment. "Yes. You will turn into bacon unless you don't take my advice," I leaned against the lockets in an attempt to be cool.

"And what would that be?"

"Become a little less... Goth... And you won't turn into bacon." He said.

He began to walk off but shook my hair around before he left, like he usually does. I am in love with almost a stranger.