One girl. One boy. One-sided love.
This is a story of a girl named Candice Whitmoore who is madly in love with Ayrton Drake Yeary since kindergarten. Yes, she thinks of him as her destined prince and she will let no one to come between them. Ever...
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Candice's POV
I bounced on my toes and checked the time again on my navy blue G-shock S Series.
Its sporty style complimented my OOTD. I wore a knee length, red, floral skater dress under my cropped, faded, denim jacket. I partnered it with my black Vans Hight-Cut Slim Top shoes.
"Okay, say cheese!" The flash from mom's camera was mighty bright. I had been telling her to just use her phone camera because I swear, that some time in the future the flashes could make me blind.
She would always take pictures of me. And when I said 'always', I meant it literally. She would take pictures of me eating a cereal, tying my shoe lace, or even when I'm just sitting on the porch. And whenever I raised a complaint, she would tell me, the exact same thing over and over again; that models and celebrities have been photographed thousands of times with flashand haven't gone blind.
She was a tabloid journalist. And she carried around her DSLR camera, all the time.
Well, journalist or not, moms could be weirdos sometimes.
"Mom, dad, I'm late," I said as I pushed dad a little, trying to free myself from the heavy arm around my shoulders.
"Oh, come on, sweetie. This is the first day of the school year. Let's make this memorable," mom replied as she raised her camera again.
She was rotating the lens, focusing the view finder to our direction, getting ready to take another shot. But I was already walking towards the door before she could press the shutter release button.
"You sure you don't want me to drive you to school?" dad asked. Both of his eyebrows raised, making those horizontal lines so pronounced on his forehead.
"Please. Guys. You're embarassing me! It's not like it's my first time in kindergarden. The bus is already here!" I replied impatiently.
"Okay, but you forgot the most important thing..." dad said.
My packed lunch? Check. My money? Check. My phone? Double check.
The bus blew its horn again.
"You haven't given us your most tender, sweet, and precious kiss yet. I don't know how am I supposed to go on a day without that? I wouldn't-"
I cut my dad's sentence and stormed to his direction giving him a quick kiss on the forehead. I reached for mom's neck and gave her a smack on her right cheek.
I ran towards the open door, not looking back, and shouted, "I am too old for this!"
"Text us the moment you arrived there!" my mom shouted back. I swear I could hear their laughter. My parents are sweet but can be brutal sometimes.
