I find myself putting in more of an effort with my appearance. I stare back at my reflection in my bedroom mirror, wondering what I would change about my appearance if I had all the money in the world.
For starters, I'd probably get rid of this nose and replace it with a more slender and minute one. I gently try and pinch my huge potato nose together to see what it'd look like. I'd look more European like Parker. My features are very afro-centric; my father and biological mother are both Afro-Caribbeans but I love my skin and who I am.
I look ridiculous. I sigh and release it. Let me at least focus on the things I can temporarily change like the shape of my eyebrows or the colour of my lips and maybe conceal the dark circles under my eyes.
I watch a YouTube video instructing me on how to fill in my brows. I give up after two tries and resort to just applying some mascara and lip gloss I bought from Superdrug's on the weekend.
I wonder if Parker will notice my new look?
Speak of the devil, I heard the familiar buzz of my phone indicating that I've got a new text.
I'm outside :) - a message sent from Parker. I've finally allowed him to pick me up and drive us to school together after many times of him offering.
Nerves fill my entire body but they soon pass as I realise it's just Parker. The kindest, sweetest boy ever. He's vowed to drop me off at school every day once he found out that I take my bicycle.
He said and I quote -I wouldn't forgive myself if you went home with a scraped knee.I rush and get my rucksack, camera, kiss Caesar on the head and practically fly down the stairs. I kiss pops on the cheek and grab one- no, two- apples from the fruit bowl. One for me and one for Parker.
Parker's sitting in the drivers' side of his beat down red Skoda Citigo. He doesn't notice me standing there yet so I take this opportunity to snap an off-guard picture. His fingertips gently drum on the steering wheel of his car and his head slightly nods to the beat of the song playing inside. His hair looked as if it hadn't been cut in months and the messy chestnut locks were gently bouncing along with the movement of his head. His smooth skin shone in the morning sun like a milky latte and I suddenly felt thirsty. I'm not sure if my mind was playing games on me but he looked kind of... nervous. Just like he did back in that form class after we met.
Finally, as if he could sense someone watching him, he turns and sees me standing there with my camera out, probably looking like an idiot.
"Hello Sunshine," He sings, lowering the music by turning a dial with his free hand. His eyes light up when they see me. The grin on his face grows as he watches me walk over. He lifts a brown paper bag. "I brought you ham and cheese bagels."
I smile and raise the big red fruit that I was carrying in my hand. "I brought you an apple."
The sound of Mariah Carey blasts from his open car door. The backseat of his car was strewn with empty packets of crisps, coke cans and other rubbish yet the front seats were absolutely pristine.
I raise an eyebrow at him. "You listen to Mariah Carey?"
He starts the car up effortlessly with one hand and starts driving. Somehow, I find that attractive. "Of course, she's amazing." He says this as if it's a well-known fact and only an idiot could disagree with him and to be fair, he is right. Mariah Carey is amazing. "I'm practically a lamb."
"If you say so." I let myself enjoy the music as we silently drive on. I open the window and stick my arm out, feeling the gentle wind tickle the little hairs on my arm. I remember the first time I heard this specific song. Papa was telling me the story of how he and Pops met.
YOU ARE READING
Maybe This Is Love, |✔️
Teen FictionHarley-Blair Thompson is afraid to speak... Parker Sorrisi is afraid to love... She has a personality disorder and he doesn't know. A slightly awkward tale of how two very different yet totally compatible people fell in what they refuse to call love...