16 year old Emma Hollows is trying to navigate her way through life in Tulsa with labels left and right and a not-so ideal situation when she meets the famous Dallas Winston. Will he change her life for the better? Or for the worse?
"Just because they were unable to love you does not mean that you are unloveable.." - unknown
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I made it home safely that night, but my mother did catch a hold of me once I reached the house. Let's just say I got it pretty bad. I had bruises on both of my cheeks, my forehead, my chest, my stomach, my right leg, and my arms. I also had a large cut running across the bruise on my right cheek.
I mean.. technically I did get home safely, I just was not safe when I got home.
A light sigh escaped my lips as I started scribbling down the answers to my homework. I was a pretty smart girl, I got A's and the occasional B from time to time, but tonight I really couldn't focus. I hadn't gone to school for 4 days, hoping the cuts and bruises would heal so when I went back today I was left with a ton of make up work to complete. I closed my eyes and pressed my middle and index finger to my temple.
My bruises and cut had gotten less prominent but they were still visible. If anyone asked I just faked being jumped by some greasers. The lie seemed to work, much to my delight.
For the life of me I couldn't figure out this math problem. Maybe it was because there was really only one thing on my mind.
Dallas Winston.
He seemed to occupy all of my thoughts ever since I met him. The problem is, I doubt I've crossed his mind once since we parted at the DX 5-ish days ago. I wanted more than anything to be on his mind, I wanted to drive him crazy like he drove me crazy.
But.. emotions aren't exactly Dallas' forte, and I'm pretty sure anyone and everyone knew that.
It hurt me quite a lot to let that information sink into my brain but if I didn't face the fact that I barely knew this tall, handsome delinquent, and all he would do is play with me anyways.
I slammed my pencil down on my desk and shot up from my chair, pushing it in behind me. I quickly threw on some causal, but still nice clothes, did my hair and put on some makeup to help with the covering of bruises.
(HER OUTFIT: )
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