Beautiful

Trevor Jacobs

Chapter 1- Trevor Jacobs

Paisley's P.O.V

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Sitting on my bay window, looking at the outside world that never seems interesting enough for me to actually leave my room and go out there, I see someone pulling into the driveway next door on a motorcycle I have never seen before through the open window.

The motorcycle switches off by the rider and they sit there for a while, appearing to be checking out the house. The drivers' hands are still holding the handles while they just sit there. Finally, the driver takes their hands off the handle bars and reaches for the helmet strapped to their head.

The helmet is removed and shows a very attractive guy about my age; 17. His light brown hair is spiked up and messily thrown around like he doesn't care, but carefully precised enough to show he does. I can't see the strangers' eyes due to the fact that I'm viewing from the side.

He places the helmet on the seat of his bike and stands up, showing his height. He stretches, lifting his arms up above his head and placing his hands on the back of his head. He stands there for a little while, staring at the house once again.

While I'm praying for him to turn around, God must've heard my wishes because the handsome creature puts his arms back by his sides and turns around to see me gawking at him. While his eyes--that I can't quite see the color of--stare deep into mine, I can't seem to pull my gaze away. No matter how embarrassed I am. A smug smirk appears on his face as I feel blood rush to mine.

"Like what you see, princess?" He asks in his deep sexy voice that makes me want to melt inside--but push the urge back down where it came from--as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"No, I-I was just uh..." I stutter slightly in my barely noticeable Australian accent. I clear my throat and try to not utterly embarrass myself. "Just trying to figure out why you're standing in a driveway to a house that doesn't even belong to you." I say, pulling my knees up to my chest and crossing my arms around them. His smirk remains on his face as he takes a few steps closer to my window but staying in his driveway.

"Australian?" He asks, removing his hands from his pockets and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Huh?" I ask. I heard what he said, I just don't understand why he asked or how he heard the accent.

"You're Australian. I uh, I heard your accent." He says, his smirk turning into an almost grin which makes me give him a smile.

"Uh, yea-yeah. I'm from Australia." I say, starting to get off track but remembering what I was wondering before. "Why are you in that driveway?"

He chuckles. "I'm moving in, princess." He says. "I'm Trevor Jacobs."

"Paisley. Uh, Walters." I say, smiling. He was about to say something else when a pink Camero pulls up in his driveway. The engine shuts off and a blonde--with a top and short shorts on that squeeze her so tight her boobs and ass basically hang out--exited the car and walks up to Trevor. She leans on his shoulder and whispers something in his ear. His eyes go wide and the smug smirk comes back upon his face. The bimbo sashays back to her Camero making sure to sway her hips to capture Trevor's attention, who was turned around watching her.

He turns back to me, the smirk from before staying on his face.

"Catch ya later, princess." He says with a wink. He jogs over to the sluts car and hops in right when it starts to speed off out of the drive, making me roll my eyes.

Player.

Big time player.

"Paisley! Get down here please!" My mother yells from the first floor.

I sigh as I get up off the window bench and walk over to my vanity, stand in front of the mirror and cringe as I observe my 4'10'' and thin figure. I take my contacts out and put on my big nerdy glasses while throwing my short, dark brown wavy hair in a high bun. I walk over to my dresser and change out of my jean shorts and t-shirt into a pair of black, baggy sweatpants and a burgundy tank top.

I've always been insecure ever since I was 8 and all the kids in my class called me pipsqueak and made me sit at lunch by myself. It may not sound like a big deal now, but to an 8 year old, it's pretty mortifying. Ever since then, I've been made fun of by at least one person because of my shortness, my weight, my looks, my boring hair, boring eyes. Just for being me.

As I walk down the stairs, my sister, Steph, shoulder bumps me as she's going up them. As she bumps into me, an evil grin came on her face as she hisses in my ear.

"Watch it, whore, or I'll catch your diseases." She snickers once she gets to the top of the stairs. I roll my eyes and keep trugdging myself to the kitchen to find my mother washing dishes. I clear my throat to make myself present. She jumps and turns around while she lays yellow rubber gloved covered hand to her heart and breathes a laugh.

"Paisley darling, you scared me,." She stated sweetly. Does she think I'm going to suddenly think she's some kind of mother-of-the-year? I think to myself. I walk over to the island counter in front of the sink and hop up to sit on it.

"You needed me?" I ask. She nods and turns back around to the sink.

"Yeah. Our new neighbors, The Jacobs, are coming over for dinner today so get ready." She says.

Oh, shit.

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What'd you guys think?

What do you think of Trevor?

Why do you think Paisley thinks her mother's trying to be a "mother-of-the-year"?

Comment how you like it (keep it positive for now, PLEASE)!

-MaisieHollie3847 🌺