Willow

He was the bad boy every good girl fell in love with. He was tall, with the deepest brown eyes that made you melt every time he looked at you with his stern gaze. His body was a canvas, and every page was covered in ink. When he would strut down the hallway, girls would instantly drool. He could make all the boys' blood boil with envy while he races down the street. His confidence was extraordinary; he could walk through a crowd with ease because he knew all eyes were on him. He savored each moment. He basked in the attention, living for each time he made a new girl's jaw drop. He was the best racer the streets had to offer. He was already fearless, but when he went to the track every drop of doubt vanished. He was the kind of guy you wouldn't take home to mom. He had a mouth like a sailor, but words of a poet. He was cocky, but not arrogant. He had just enough sass to make him the smoothest talker in town. He could swoon any girl he wanted, in just a few exchanges. I wasn't supposed to fall in love again, but he made it impossible.