Fighter
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- Parts 1
MatureOngoing<5 mins
Last published Mon, Jan 27, 2020
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That's pretty much this story in a nutshell. My name is Callie Young and I am battling stage 3 Lung Cancer. It sucks, as I pretty much state all of the time. I have been homeschooled almost my entire life. At least, except for the past year. My doctor is counting the days until I croak. My best friend, whom I've known for the past 14 years has always been there for me. So, this is a roller coaster ride that I hope you stay around for. . .
P.S. This is a book with two authors so please follow the other one too @KeiraKnox1. Also, we have no clue what the other will write or what we are doing, so if you do, please help us. . .
P.P.S. one of us cant spell so good luck by the way it's keira.
P.P.P.S Olyvia. You're a liar.
P.P.P.P.S. Me and Keira fight a lot if the story doesn't make scence plz message of one of us to fighter out witch one it is we wright every other chapter so. Thanks again sorry for the rlly long description.
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She swears she hates him. He's convinced he hates her more. But when secrets, lies, and late-night whispers begin to blur the line between enemies and something they wouldn't even consider, neither of them is ready for what's coming. *** Aliana is loud, impulsive, and dangerously unpredictable. She lies when she's scared, smiles when she's breaking, and keeps everyone away with her endless sarcasm and sharp tongue. She doesn't need anyone. Especially not him. Ali is silent storms and cold stares. The boy with the bad reputation, a past no one talks about, and a temper that makes people flinch. He wants nothing to do with drama, especially when it wears red lipstick and calls him names. They can't stand each other. So why do they keep ending up alone in the same room? Why does every fight feel like foreplay? And why does hating him hurt more than it should? ~~~~~~ He kisses me, again and again, raw and consuming, and then pulls away; I can feel his green eyes piercing my soul. "What you told me last time, say it again," he whimpers breathlessly. "What?" I manage to ask, confused, and reel him in again for another kiss. He pulls back again, his breath hot against my skin. "That you hate me, tell me that you hate me." "I hate you," I tell him almost instantly, the lie burning on my tongue. He kisses me harder and more hungrily, and the words slip out again from my tongue: "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." His murmurs deepen into groans, and at this exact moment, I ask myself how I'm still standing, still breathing, still present. ~~~~~~
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