The Wonky Boy With A Crooked Smile

Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

A/N: Ready for another version of Adorableward? This one, I wrote for the Wonkyward Contest. 

 

The Wonky Boy With A Crooked Smile

Opening my eyes, I looked at the clock on the bedside table and smiled. It was only about an hour before the clock struck twelve. Still smiling to myself, I closed my eyes and allowed the memories to flood my mind, memories of him.

-Flashback-

 

The first time I laid eyes on Edward Cullen, he pissed me off.

 

It was my first day at the middle school, after our move to the weirdo-too-much-rain-all-the-time-town of Forks.

 

There I was, standing with my mom and happily licking away at the ice cream in my hand when he decided to show up. I did not even see where the boy came from, but what I did see was that mean boy bumping into me, making me drop my ice cream, and running away.

 

My cheeks flushed with anger, and I threw away the now empty cone, before chasing after that rude boy. The sound of my mother’s voice calling me to come back didn’t make a lick of difference, because it was a hot day and damn it, I loved my ice cream.

 

When I managed to find the boy, he was standing partially hidden behind a woman—who, judging by her looks had to be his mother—and trying and failing miserably to look all nonchalant. Being the brave girl I was, I walked straight up to the duo and opened my mouth—already having my angry voice at the ready.

 

But before I could utter a single word, I saw him mumble something to his mother, and then she turned to face me. She looked at me with a kind smile and said, “I am guessing you are the pretty girl?”

 

She cast a glance at the coward peeking from behind her, and he nodded, all the while trying to communicate something to her with his eyes. I started to call him a coward and tattle on him when I saw her smile broaden as she again turned to face me.

 

“Hello, I am Esme Cullen, Edward’s mother. I think you know my son?” She gestured to the boy with her hand.

 

I crossed my arms on my chest, like my Mom doeswhen Dad makes her mad. Then I narrowed my eyes at him before replying to his mother. “I know that he made me drop my ice cream and ran away without a word.”

 

His big green eyes widened behind the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, and he opened his mouth as if to offer an explanation, but I shut him up. I glared at him and said, “Do you know how hot today is? How could you do that? That was very mean and rude.”

 

“Because you’re pretty,” he blurted out, before clamping his hand over his mouth.