first kiss ; awg

5%

✧ - A N N A B E L - ✧

In my mind, I kept replaying our conversation in geography. He'd actually made the effort, without prompt, to talk to me. To my disappointment, I didn't see him for the rest of the day, but I guess that saved what was enviably an awkward encounter where I'd mess up my words and stumble through sentences. Anyway, it was probably just a one time thing, right? He was probably just bored of the class and wanted to be entertained.

I sat next to Harriet in silence on the bus ride home, and put my 'sad-happy songs' playlist on shuffle. By complete coincidence, the second song on shuffle was How Do I Tell A Girl I Want To Kiss Her by Modern Baseball. Autumn leaves painted the sidewalks in beautiful shades of red and gold and yellow. I watched absently as bus drove past a little boy and his mom as he jumped into a pile of leaves, his face full of glee.

"Okay, what's wrong?" Harriet spoke up finally, breaking the tension, and pulling my earphones out of my ears.

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently.

"We haven't spoken a word since we got on the bus. What's eating at you?" It was hard to say no to Harriet, she looked like a little kid begging me for some money to buy a toy.

"Alex Gaskarth spoke to me in geography today."

"Never!," she wondered in a combination of amusement and amazement. "Why do you never tell me these things!"

"It's not a big deal. He's just a guy." I shrugged nonchalantly - a total lie.

"Just a guy? Just a guy? Just a in-a-band-and-one-of-the-most-popular-guys-in-school-and-could-date-any-girl-he-wanted kinda guy? Dude, when you're popular and famous, remember it was me who would hold your hair for you threw up, and me who helped you cheat on your 5th grade math test, and also me who helped you dye your hair in 8th grade, which, granted, did go horrifically wrong."

Laughing quietly I nudged her shoulder playfully. "Of course, Harriet, like that'll totally happen."

"Mark my words!" she said, sounding like an old fortune teller, shaking her finger at me.

We hugged goodbye at my stop before I got off the bus and walked up my drive. It was the middle of autumn, and Dean had left the sprinklers on, soaking my shoes as I ran to the door. I let myself in and called out to see if anyone was home, popping my keys in the little bowl by the front door.

"Hello, Annie! how was school?" asked Dean, kissing my forehead.

"Alright, thanks, Dean."

Dean and Timothy were my adoptive parents. I'd never called them my dads, and never anyone my mom. Then again, even if I met my birth parents, I'd never called them mom and dad either. My birth mom, Winter Wavefield, never married my dad, Daniel Harrison. Maybe, in truth, because they never thought their relationship would be cut so short before they could be married. Right before I was born, my dad was killed in a car crash, and after that it was evident by my moms constant distraught state and grief that she couldn't go on much longer either. She died during child birth.

For 4 years I grew up with Camilla and Tyrell, who were from Spain. A week before my 5th birthday they had the sudden realisation that they'd rather travel the world, so put me up for adoption again. That's when Dean and Timothy took me under their wing, and where I'd been ever since.

After giving Dean a quick kiss, I ran up to my room and jumped onto my bed where my laptop sat waiting for me. Timothy and Dean were never too bothered about what I did with my room, so it was consequently covered in posters of all sorts and merchandise from everywhere. First, I did my normal routine of checking all my social medias, only to find I actually had some notifications on Facebook.

1 friend request: Alexander Gaskarth requested to be your friend.

♡

it's nearly midnight lmao pls shoot me why am I still writing

btw if I ever mention any bands or songs u should # check them out