Cute Guys And Their Lies

1: Cute Guys And Their Lies

This is basically one of the most cliche things I have ever written. So if you don't like it after a few chapters, feel free to look at my newer work. I promise it's more original, has a better style of writing, and just in general.. better. But a bunch of people still read this story, so I'm not deleting it, since more might enjoy it.

This story is completed, from start to finish. Even though it is done, can you still vote/comment/tweet? That'd be awesome. ;)

This is not legally copyrighted, but it is under the creative commons. So don't steal my idea/characters/cast/theme/ect. It's annoying. D:<

If you see errors in grammar/sentence structure/spelling/ or if something doesn't make sense, LET ME KNOW. I can't fix anything if I don't know it's wrong. D;

This story is like a PG-13 movie. There's cursing (not a ton), sexual jokes (not descriptive), & teenager-ism. If you know what I mean.

---

Short Prolouge:

Ava's view on love is.. well, to put it in simple terms, screwed. It's not like she's shut herself off from the world, it's just that she wants everything while wanting nothing. She's never really satisfied with herself and those around her.
She's called a slut, she's called a rapist, and she's called a cheater.
Honestly, she isn't.
She's a nice girl with good intentions.
She just doesn't have the power to say "No" and mean it. She's weak willed.
Follow Ava as she comes to this realization. As she learns the real truth about herself. As she battles her inner demon.
A real whore will never admit it to herself. Can Ava?
Throw in fights, gossip, mean girls, parties, drinking, and hormonal teenagers and maybe she might.
But who really knows?
Throughout this book Ava learns her true self. But in the end it might not be enough to save her life. Literally.
The lies of the cute guys around her could kill her. And of course, nobody knows that Ava's life is at risk.

--

Cute Guys And Their Lies - Bro Hoe.

"Aves!" My mother screamed for the millionth time. She began stomping up the stairs to our newly emptied out house. Uh-oh. I reluctantly forced my extremely heavy and tired eyes open just as she burst into my bedroom. I was asleep on a palette on the floor. As she leaned over me I could tell she was impatient because her facial features were twisted into a pout. My signature sly smile slowly but surely spread across my face. I could tell my charm worked when she sighed and ran a hand through her long hair. "It's moving day. Get up." She held her hand out to me and I took it as I groaned. Sure, life here wasn't the most exciting or fun, but come on, a new job? That's why I have to leave behind my life?

Oh wait, we were only here for two months anyway.

Having a photographer as a mom isn't such a good thing sometimes. I mean, sure you get AMAZING Facebook pictures and modeling opportunities, but come on. Always moving, uprooting us? That's annoying.

After my mom left the room with a stern look of 'get ready, no nonsense'.

Once i was out of the shower, I rubbed the steam off the mirror and studied my face. As I poked and prodded to make sure it was smooth and perfect, I thought about how much I had changed these past few months. Basically, I felt a little bit more than average.

I wasn't exactly a Megan Fox but I wasn't anything like Rosie O' Donnell either.

I'm skinny but every now and then, like pretty much every other teenage girl in America, I got that feeling that I'm a little bit too skinny. Or fat. It depends on the weather.

I'm lightly tan all year long, but that's because I'm always outside.

Sighing, I quickly slipped on some shorts and a band tee and took ten minutes just to slip on my converse, and twenty to tie them up. As I gathered all of my things, I mentally said goodbye to my bathroom; this was probably the last time I'd see it.