The Dorky Boy and Lonely Girl
  • Reads 253
  • Votes 59
  • Parts 18
  • Time 1h 25m
  • Reads 253
  • Votes 59
  • Parts 18
  • Time 1h 25m
Ongoing, First published Dec 18, 2015
Saiyan (si-yan) is a high school girl who doesnt seem to have many friends and never did eversince she was a child. Her only best friend was Loraine, a pretty blonde with blue eyes and a slim body [complete opposite of saiyan]. Where as compared to Saiyan shes a bit of a fluffy type with long brown hair, not much sense in style [basically wears anything she likes without a care if it matches] and brown eyes that are as brown as chocolate.

The guys she's liked have always preferred her best friend then her due to the 'pretty' department so she lacked confidence in herself. One day when going to the cafeteria before she goes into the doorway she sees a boy whose sitting alone outside on the long blue lunch table with a cheese pizza (her fave!) and a milk along with fruit bites snacks. 
"Hes cute" she whispers to Loraine. "Ya for you he is" Loraine replies while chuckling a bit. Then as they walk towards inside the cafeteria, Saiyan kept thinking in her head "who is he? Why is he alone? Does he have a girlfriend?..well even if he didn't i doubt i would have a chance with him since I'm not like Loraine.." But what will happen now??
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"What the hell did you do!?" I heard a feminine voice behind me. I groaned and turned around to meet a very angry face. I have never seen a girl this pissed before and honestly speaking, I am a little bit afraid. "She knew what she was getting into. Everyone knows I am player and I never stick to one girl." I shrugged and turned around to walk away. I didn't even take one step when I felt a firm hand on my t-shirt. She took a fist full of my shirt and turned me around so I was facing her. She then held my collar. Damn, she is almost the same height as me and if I would have been any normal guy, I would be terrified of her. "You don't treat girls like trash, asshole. She has feelings, she is not some toy that you got bored from after playing for a while. Apologize to her." She said through gritted teeth pointing towards Leah who was crying her eyes out. I noticed the crowd that started forming around us. I shrugged her hand away from my t-shirt and glared at her. "I will not apologize to anyone." I said slowly through gritted teeth. She is starting to piss me off. No one clashes me and no one stands against me. Even though I am new here, everyone knows that. I saw her eyes go blank and before I could duck, her fist made contact with my face and I felt sharp pain coursing through my nose. I held my nose tight and felt warm liquid flowing to my lips. Olivia Claire is a 16 year old high scholar. She is a fighter who never took anyone's shit and is famous for it. She mostly minds her own business occasionally helping people that might need her. Carter Grayson is a 16 year old guy recently transferred to Olivia's high school. Tall, handsome guy with lean figure, hazel eyes, brown hair and smile to die for. He has been known to be a player in his last high school and he plans on continuing that identity. So, what happens when a typical bad boy clashes with a not-so-nerd bad girl.
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She didn't reply and I felt her finger move across my skin, lower, and almost all the way down my lower back. A shiver coursed through my body, strangely pleasant, and I felt her finger stop. "Your tattoos are beautiful," she said softly. Too close. She was too close. My pulse was hammering and I could feel her cool breath against my skin when she spoke, and my body was warm from having felt her. I couldn't reply. My breathing was light and shaken. I wanted to just turn around and pull her against me, or rather put her against a wall, so I could kiss her and feel her more properly against me. If she touched me again, I wasn't sure that I could keep myself from doing just that. "I'm going to take a shower," I said suddenly in an attempt to escape. She didn't stop me, so I took that opportunity to walk away. When I reached the bathroom, I took a deep breath to steady myself as well as my pulse. Closing the door behind me, I ran a hand through my hair. She truly was a nightmare. A bad boy's worst nightmare was a girl that made him want to be a good one.