Not That Kind Of Love

Chapter 1

You always find these books in the back of the crowded bookstore that look so good until you read the first page. Then it just becomes dull and very boring. You look for a different one, the same outcome, this happens over and over again. Well it does for me anyway.

You may be lucky and find the perfect book for you, but they all have the same story. Yes it may be about a boy who becomes a famous wizard and him and his friends save the world or a girl who becomes a vampire or even a book about spy's where you train at a secret school to become the spy.

But what all of these books have in common is they all have a love story in it. They centre around love and it's difficulties. Because to be honest, love story's sell.

Many authors go on and on about how there book is so different and unique to any other book out there and if you read between the lines, they really aren't.

But that's not to say that those stories are great. Yes they are all amazing stories! But love these days is thought about in a new way. It is about the heart break and hard ships of love that makes it stronger, not the wishy washy kinds of love. Because that love as real as it is in some cases, is very rare.

Not many people find their Prince Charming or the perfect princess first time round. The love we accept and we don't have to prove is the best kind of love. No knights, no duels to win the fair lady's heart. Just finding someone to notice you, to point out your flaws so that you don't look stupid and you trust their opinion but not be so horrible that you realise they are just being mean. That is what true love really is.

Report written my Lauren Carry-Rodger for the daily times

"Now miss Carry-Rodger makes a vet good point about what love can mean to many people..." my teacher rambles on while everyone is the year zones out and doesn't listen to a word he says. My whole English class stares at the board at the front of the classroom in utter boredom. Don't get me wrong, I always liked English, it was my best subject. In my first year my teacher, Mr. Flannigan, told me that i had great vocabulary and a keen eye for rhythm and pattern and that i should start writing poetry. I actually had to choke back a snigger before i got into trouble.

Me? A poet? I thought to myself, surely he is mistaken.

But sure enough i tried it and i thought i was getting pretty good at it. I kept a book full of little poems and even one big, page-long mini story poem that i took about a day to write, i loved it and it became a hobby and i still write to this day, which is forth year by the way.

But as school went on and i moved further up the school, i changed teachers and this year we have a new teacher, Mr. Rodger. He isn't a very good teacher, he gloats about his family success and makes it very obvious he does so when he makes us write a report on what his wife has written for the Daily Times Newspaper this week.

My class is full of 15 to 16 year olds who know nothing about life and what to accept and choose apart from the four walls surrounding us at the dull school we have had to cope with for the last four years and most of us have never even had a proper relationship yet! So why on earth have we to write about what the text means to us?

I turn to my best and oldest friend Sara and chuck her a note that lands straight into her perfectly glossy, golden brown hair that stops just before her waist. She turns suddenly to give me a stare that almost makes my fall of my seat from silently laughing.

She picks the note from her hair and fixes her glasses that half fell off during the quick stare and reads the crumpled, yellow note.

It says 'is he looking at the right class? He couldn't of picked the most innocent class of the whole school to write about this :')'

she half smiles which tells me she has thought of something utterly brilliant to reply with. She writes at super lightning speed so that she isn't caught then throws me the crumpled note back to me, i open it and it reads

'well i dunno about Shannon Fryer. she's pretty NON innocent from what i heard ;)'

That was it, i was gone. The laughter i felt build up inside me from the stare i got left my mouth in a fit of laughter that included the symptoms of breathlessness and tears. I didn't quite notice how loud i was though.

"Miss. Trainer, would you like so tell the class what you are finding so funny? Hmm?" Dammit, why is it always me?

"Erm, there was a little incident that happened outside, a cat ran into a wall." Yeah i can go with that, good thinking Lauren.

"Well considering the only wall we have outside is that wall to hold up the school so you wouldn't of seen the cat now would you Miss. Trainer," Oh, yeah i forgot we were in the middle of nowhere. "But because I'm nice, I'll let you off this time. Don't let me catch you again. Got it?" I smirked to myself, oh the benefits of being a geek. I never get in trouble because, well i never do anything to get me in trouble. But on those rare occasions teachers just let me off because it never usually happens.

"Got it!"

After class Sara and I are always the first to leave so we can talk about class and the people in it before anyone can hear us.

"How do you do it Miss. Trainer?" She exadurated the Miss. Trainer part to sound like Mr. Rodgers, "I mean, you get away with absolutely everything!"

"Well you know me, little miss geek always gets away with everything." We turn to look at eachother and laugh.

"Yeah well that makes two of us", Sara giggles, "Right I'm desperate for the loo, let's go." We both set of for the toilets and the rest of the school day ahead.

~~~~~~~~

Hey guys, I'm new to all of this but I've always wanted to publish this story, i hope you all love it and stick with me while i go through it. Please give me feedback on what you think of it and thank you for getting this far already :)