What's Another Word For Hell?
- Reads 70
- Votes 9
- Parts 2
This is based off my life at school, home and etc. the story won't be completely true, so I'm saying that everything happened. I won't promise that I'll post regularly, but eh. I hope you reader will like this story. This story is original all rights reserved.
Stephanie has one more year until high school. She's a good student that's aiming to be one of the best. Though, even before high school, her life is already hell due to drama and stress. How will she live like she's dying, how will she go through it? Read more to find out...
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Stephanie Walker - straight-A student, sweet, pretty, and every parent's dream. Her life is perfectly planned out... until her senior year trip throws her into the chaotic orbit of the school's golden boy. Now her final year in high school isn't looking so simple. "Don't let me catch you, cupcake," his voice boomed from downstairs, and I took off running. I ducked behind a pole, heart racing, trying to calm my nerves. Way to go, Stephanie, my subconscious snarked. His footsteps echoed closer. "Where are you, cupcake?" he called out playfully. Like I'd actually tell you, I thought, holding my breath. Silence. Then, warm fingers snaked around my waist, and I didn't need to turn to know it was him. "Found you," he whispered in my ear, and a shiver zipped down my spine. "How?" I breathed, turning to face him. His smirk told me he knew exactly what he was doing to me. Get it together, fool, I mentally scolded myself. "Want the sugarcoated version or the truth?" he teased. I raised a brow at him. "I could smell you from a mile away," he whispered, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. Butterflies. So many freaking butterflies. "That was the sugarcoated version," he added with a grin. I blinked, narrowing my eyes. "The pole didn't hide you well. Your cardigan was sticking out," he shrugged. And then came the smirk. "Now, time for my revenge." I barely had time to process before something soft and powdery rained down on me. I wiped my face. Flour. He did not just dump flour on me even if I started it. Mature, much? I thought bitterly. Poker face on. "Real mature," I said, brushing past him with fake annoyance. Time to activate drama mode. "Come on, babe, you can't be mad..." he called after me. This book is everything. You NEED to read this.
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