Confessions of a Bad Boy // Slowly Editing

Author's Note

Hey everyone, I know it's been awhile since I've spoken to you. But I came bearing a new story. I've spent the last year writing this story, and I'm finally ready to share it with you guys. If you liked this story, and you especially loved all the swoon worthy parts, then I think you'll like my newest story, A Quiet Kismet.

So here's the summary and a sample of the book. If you like it, then please support me on Radish Fiction @Rheaday97 right now to read a new chapter every Monday!

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kis·met/ˈkizmit,ˈkizˌmet/

noundestiny; fate.

We were always fated to be in each others lives. It was written in the stars the moment we wrestled on the playground our first day of preschool. But it was easier to love him behind the veil of hatred than to ever be upfront. Of course things only got complicated from there. My family crumbled, and left to rebuild again and I knew I'd never see Derek Navarro again. I made peace with that, I had to. Of course, fate had other plans. Fast-forward to my new life in New York working on my breakthrough novel, when fate rears its ugly head in my life again. My baby sister is getting married to a boy who grew up in the childhood home we left behind...and his best man is none other than Derek. The love I had chosen to forget.

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PROLOGUE

     I have been in love only once in my life. Well, at least I think I have. I count my lifelong crush on Derek Navarro as a relationship I have had. Not that he would ever know...or care for that matter.

     My life intertwined with his when we were four. Unbeknownst to a four year old Amelia, she would meet the love of our life in the midst of the biggest tantrum. It was my first day of kindergarten and Mom was basically feeding me to the wolves. I had three older siblings and she'd been through the leg holding tantrums of the first day. She wasn't about to go through it a fourth time, and while holding my two year old baby sister.

     She pointed towards a little boy who was doing just that, crying off his head and clutching onto his mother's leg, begging her to take him home.

     "You don't want to look like a baby, do you?" Mom had said with a stern tone. I looked at the boy, and instead of thinking he was pathetic, I actually felt empathetic. But mom was right, it was just a few hours and she would be right back to pick me up at noon.

     It took two teachers to pry the boy from his mother, and she practically ran for the door when he finally let go. Yeah, okay, it was a little pathetic by that point. But I think even then I was a goner for that crying little boy.

     His jet black hair was tousled, and his cheeks were flushed pink as he wiped away the last of his tears. He sulked in a corner, and put his hands on his face to cry some more in private.

     I felt a tug at my heart. It was the same feeling I had when I saw my baby sister, Julia, crying because she lost her favorite pacifier. I wanted to hug him and tell him it would be alright, because I would fix it. But I didn't hug him, instead I sat next to him and poked his shoulder.

     Begrudgingly, he looked up. "What?" He snapped. His face was all red and his eyes were puffy.

     "Are you okay?" I asked. His lip quivered, and he cried again, angrily this time.

     "Get away you stupid, dumb girl!" He screeched, shoving me away, pushing me off the chair. "Go!"

     I fell to the ground with a hard thud. If I didn't have older siblings who punked on me everyday, I probably would've cried out of embarrassment. Instead, I stared at the boy and wondered why I even tried to be nice. It never worked with my older siblings either.