Challenge Accepted, Bad Boy (Complete)

Chapter 1 - My Boyfriend Is A Professional Wrestler

Chapter 1 - My Boyfriend Is A Professional Wrestler

"Alyssa! You know the box with the glasses and plates that is labelled 'Fragile'?" My mother shouted from the living room.

I scanned the boxes and saw the one which had 'Fragile' written in red sharpie.

"Yeah..." I replied.

"Can you please take that into the kitchen? Store the glasses on the third shelf next to the microwave and put the plates into the large drawers in the corner."

I picked up the box and walked to the kitchen, placing it onto the counter along with my phone. I opened the box and began putting the glasses onto the shelf.

After finishing the glasses I scanned the kitchen and found large drawers in the corner next to the fridge. I kneeled down and stacked the plates in rows and stood up after the last one.

My phone vibrated on the counter beside me and I grabbed it seeing a text from Charlotte.

From: Charlotte

Hey, how's New York babe? Met any hot guys yet (;

I rolled my eyes and smiled before replying

I got here like 10 minutes ago; I'll call you when I'm done unpacking. And no I haven't met anyone at all let alone a 'hot guy'.

I put my phone in my pocket not waiting for a reply.

Charlotte was my best friend back in Miami, she knew practically everything about me and I knew pretty much everything about her. We were there for each other in our good and bad times so it was no surprise when she threatened to hand cuff us together after I told her that I was moving to New York.

I've only been here for a while and I already feel homesick. New York and Miami are two completely different cities. I missed the oceanic breeze of Miami and even though it was a really hot place I still loved it to death. The city is adorned with palm trees and gorgeous beach scenery. All I see here in New York is tall, lofty buildings galore.

Just yesterday, my friends and I were hanging out on the beach and messing with each other, playing pranks and throwing ourselves into the water and today I'm sitting in an empty house with boxes scattered everywhere and I have no idea who the hell anyone is or where anything is.

The only upside to moving is that I can start fresh and leave behind all the bullshit that happened back there. I have quite a shady past which very few people are aware of and I'm relieved that I can leave it all in the past and look forward to a new beginning.

I took in my surroundings and remembered that I still need to sort out my room. I sighed in exhaustion and ran a hand down my face, before grabbing one of the boxes that had my name on it and trudging up the staircase.

I looked at all the bedroom doors, not sure which one is mine.

"Mom!"

"Yes, honey?"

"Which room is mine?"

"The one right at the end is yours, and the ones on either side are guest rooms."

"Great" I muttered under my breath.

I pushed the white door open with my foot and entered the room, being greeted by white carpeting. I looked around and smiled, mentally thanking my mother. The room was slightly larger than my old one, and alternated between black and white wallpaper. A large queen sized bed lay in the middle of the room; it was all white with a black headboard.

I set down the first box onto the floor and opened it, looking inside to see a ton of photos and books. The picture at the top was of me, my mom and my dad when we went to Morocco. I was 4 years old at the time, so careless and stress free.