✨ Alright.I admit that the idea of going to a previously all boy school,predominantly white, sounded good.Until I realized they only accepted one girl.A black girl.Me.Now I'm stuck here and I don't feel like I belong and this white boy is staring at me.I wish he would fucking stop.He looks like the definition of preppy.Yeah.Preppy. janet-lee •~•

Faith Tristens despises the color orange, going to the movies and Brendan Wenthward with a burning passion. Why, you ask? Well, The first one is way too flashy, the second one is too damn expensive and the third one is all of that combined into a wonderful pack of flesh and blood. Brendan is ridiculously attractive, funny, popular, athletic but there's that one unhinging thing about him that Faith hates just a tad too much. He's a player. And a good one at that. But here's the thing, no matter how many goals he has scored, there's always one he just can't seem to tackle and cross off his bucket list : Faith. And he's determined into evening out the score by laying out an ultimate touchdown.

//Please note this story is under heavy construction! Read at your own risk.// If you look for perfection, you'll never be content. ~Leo Tolstoy . . . . . . . A flower is to be always beautiful lest it is cast away. A flower is to be innocent and pure. Delicate in nature, ever to bring squinting smiles to those around. A flower is perfect. Always perfect. She was the perfect embodiment of a flower. Her name, Iris. A thorn is sharp like a knight's blade. It inflicts pain and draws blood if one dares to get close. A thorn protects a flower from the wickedness of the world. A thorn is attached to the king, ever guarding. He was the perfect embodiment of a thorn. His name, Luca. She was an iris in no need of a thorn and he was a thorn in no need of a delicate iris. Thrust together by an arranged marriage, the unlikely pair, the thorn, and the flower must now find a way to co-inhabit in the same garden. Bracing the strength of the winter, will their love and companionship last for the spring season or will the cold betrayal of a parasitic orchid, the overflowing herbicide of lies and the perfect perfection of the Iris trample the delicate budding bloom of their affairs of the heart?

A rocky friendship, a mother's death, and a wealth of family secrets revealed to a young girl which can only be likened to the myth of Pandora's Box.