Unexpected Young Love (REWRITING)

Unexpected Young Love (REWRITING)

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jun 9, 2013
Author's Note: I am rewriting this story. After reading this myself, I find it embarrassing and too cheesy. o.o Sorry if you have to wait for like, centuries. ): "Having a boyfriend will ruin your reputation on having a better future. They will distract your education and I won't be able to cope it if I hear you and him playing inappropriately together in your room!" My dad shouted sternly, crossing his arms over his chest as he gave me one of his looks that said, 'Do not argue with me, daughter.' 15 years old Joanne had never been out with someone because well, let's just say her dad strictly didn't like seeing boys with her - even if you could tell they were innocent friends. But attempting to deal things with her dad wasn't just the problem, she had a best friend who was a traitor, a girl who wouldn't stop being a bitch to her and of course, falling in love unexpectedly with someone.
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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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