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
"Seriously," Becca said, inserting another pin into my hair to hold up the style she was creating. "You need to look around and forget about Drake. This is high school, Cee. Just look at that guy over there. He is such a cutie."
"That's Thomas," I scoffed, "eww."
Becca laughed and pushed her back-length reddish hair over her shoulder. She'd just returned from her science club meeting when I told her about the drama club audition. At the time, I wasn't sure I wanted to join. Immediately, she dropped everything and started to help me get ready, insisting that I had to join at least two clubs to gain more extracurricular points.
"I'm sure you'll do great in acting." She met my eyes and lowered her voice to a theatrical whisper, "You look perfect!"
I chuckled and replied, "I was planning to join the Key Club, too."
"No." Her eyes widened the same time her mouth opened.
"Why not? Volunteering to do community project is a great start to adolescence and adulting, right?"
"Yes, Key Club has great goal if-," she paused, pointing her finger upward, "if only the officers this year are not slacking to actually get involved with the community. Besides, most students who are in detention will be likely sent to do a volunteer work, so that's a big no. You don't want to deal with delinquents. Too early to start your high school year with such drama."
"Says the one who is literally pushing me to do drama."
"We both know that if I don't force you, you'll just sit on a bench and waste your time day dreaming about you-know-who."
I shook my head. "You can say his name. And what's wrong about that? Surely, when we grow older, we will be together."
"Ugh!" She inserted her index finger into her mouth and reached towards the back of her throat, as if trying to make herself throw up.
We both laughed. My laughter ended with a small chuckle, "I don't know about you, but Drake is definitely hot."
"He is not."
"He is."
"Not, no, never, ever."
I gave her a good straight jab in the upper arm. We've had this mini fight many times for the past three weeks. She rubbed her arm while her face was making a scowl. I grinned at her and she let the matter rest.
She inserted one final pin in my hair and stepped back, looking at her handiwork. Most of my hair was held up in an up-do that was intentionally messy but sassy, with a few strands framing my face. It was lovely.
"Thanks, Bec."
She smiled back and commanded, "No biggie. Now, go to that drama club and show 'em what you got."
