Carter Wilson's dad, who works for one of the most succesful real estate companies has only one enemy;
his smooth-talking coworker, Giorgio Ferrera who's always one step ahead of him at selling property.
His enemies son also happens to be Julius F...
Ya'll I'm already harsh on myself but annsjejdjeodorkjsns this story is so bad T-T Imma post it anyway, lol. Too many hours went into this haha better publish it than do nothing. I still hope somebody will find humor in this story. May it brighten your day, dear reader!
Carter
God I hated him. I hated his douchy attitude. I hated how he acted like he was better than everyone else all of the time. I hated how people praised him for his looks and rich parents. I hated his confident smile. I wanted to smack that stupid look off of his face. I hated his brown, evil eyes. I hated his perfect face, his stupid athletic body. And above all I hated his dad for hating my dad.
I absolutely loathed that boy. Yet I couldn't stop thinking about him.
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Chapter 1 - I hate him.
The pop tart flew with an intense force through the air and landed in the sink.
Carter looked his mother in the eyes, mouth agape, hand still in the air which she had just smacked to make him lose the pastry.
"What'd you do that for!?" He yelled out in disbelief.
"I'm not going to let you have a pop tart as breakfast! It has zero nutritional value."
"You could have just said it- you didn't have to make it fly across the freaking room like that!"
"Don't raise your voice at me, Carter. Go eat the oatmeal I've made." She demanded.
Carter grabbed the soaked pop tart out of the sink, threw it in the trash and sat down at the table, while occasionally glaring at her from under his eyelashes.
How fine this morning had started.
First of all, he had panicked because his father was hogging the bathroom by taking a massive dump in there. Which meant that Carter would be showering amidst the stink his father left lingering in the air and become extremely grumpy because of this. Even though it was his own fault. He hadn't taken into account that his dad was an early pooper after being used to getting up at noon this whole summer vacation long. And so he forgot his dad would be be doing his usual bathroom visit around half past 6 in the morning on Carter's first day of school.
After he had gone off to work, I went downstairs and decided that I wasn't in the mood for oatmeal that my mom had made earlier. And because my mom was busy upstairs at that moment, changing Macy's diaper, I thought it'd a perfect moment to sneak a pop tart into the toaster and have it as breakfast to cheer myself up. But of course, as soon as I took the thing out of it's packaging it was like my mom's dog-like senses had awakened and before I knew it she went flying into the living room just to wack the thing away from me as if it was poisoned.
So there I was, jabbing my spoon into the pulp that was called oatmeal (which was one of my least favourite breakfast foods) and sighing exaggeratedly even though my mom seemed completely unfazed by it.
