Chapter 9: An Old Friend

Chapter 9: An Old Friend

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Wed, Apr 13, 2016
Rebollo said: Me?? (Ale) Of course not, of Andy. (Me) I don't know maybe he isn't. I was lying of course I new that he was in love of me but I didn't want to say anything. I finished making the dinner I put the food on the table and when Louis taste it he said: Oh this is delicious. And I said: No it isn't. But all my friends said: Yeah it is. I didn't know watt to say it was really embarrassing so I blush. When everybody finish the dinner I took all the dishes and started to wash them I finished and took Are to her bedroom she was really happy and started to said: Thank you, thank you. I was happy that she love it so I went out and then my friends left me with Louis we sat and started to talk. Suddenly I don't know how but we where kissing and he ask me if I wanted to be his girlfriend and I said ... Zorry. Sorry you will now in the next chapter.
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•••Excerpt••• I walked Vivian up to her apartment. During the ride back she couldn't stop talking about the clothes she saw and her smile was constant. The spark in her eyes never left. How could I ask her to stay just because I was a self-centered fool. I'd miss her. "Thanks for dinner, Rich. I really appreciate it." I knew she meant for more than just dinner. "Your welcome, Viv." I hugged her. She was still here for another week. There's no need to go all sappy now. It was only 3 months. She'll be back before I know it. But for now, I needed this. To be with her. We pulled apart. That glow was still there. If I hadn't known any better, she looked like one of my many one night stands after hot sex. Wait, she looked like- "Oh, shit." "What is it?" She asked. Her face was surprised that I cursed out of nowhere. "Who is he?" I demanded. "Who's who?" "The man that you're fucking, Viv." *primarily in Vivian's pov, and this story was created about 3 years ago with not much editing. Sorry for the choppy style and grammar. I won't be changing it much because I wanna keep the memory of my writing.

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