"Miss Kelly Zarron?" the instructor called out her name. Kelly stood up and rushed to the queue.
It was her first day of High School, and she was all excited about having her audition for the basketball team. She had practised hard for this day and wanted to make herself the best. But there was one thing that left her in deep anxiety: Her enemy, Miles.
Miles and Kelly have been neighbours since third grade and every day he comes to her house to play pranks on her to embarrass her in the best way possible. And not just in home, in public too. It was two years back when their parents arranged their marriage for their future; and it lead a great conflict between the two. As specially towards Kelly...
"Ready, Steady, Go!" the instructor shouted.
Kelly scored a few points and had to make a few more. But then, the two enemies met face to face. Miles took the ball from her and teased her with it.
"Miles, gimme that ball, now!" she cried.
"Oh sure, take it....from me, if you can..." Miles teased.
She tried to snatch it, but Miles was taller and faster than her. "Oops, looks like the baby girl's gonna cry!" he laughed. He threw the ball right through the basket. And as he did, the instructor blew her whistle.
"Miles' team won. Miles, welcome to the team!" she cried. His team cheered and lifted him up. "Miles! Miles! Miles!" they inspirited him.
Kelly did a little twitch and hop with her anger. Miles, her worst nightmare, just got into the team and she didn't! Miles turned at her, giggling.
"I HATE YOU, MILES!" she yelled.
"We'll see on that!" he yelled back and went out the hall.
She stood there, confused.
~~~X~~~
Author's note~
Lame, isn't it? Well, just wait for the upcoming chapters and then say....(Vote and Feedback)
YOU ARE READING
There's Something In her love...
Romantik"Oh, please, why am I gonna love you, the boy who pranked me my whole life?" she laughed. "Because of the way I'm gonna make you fall for me!" he said, tripping her over and making her fall in his arms. He threw her in the car. "What the fuck...?"...
