Singing in The Rain
  • Reads 57
  • Votes 4
  • Parts 3
  • Time 27m
  • Reads 57
  • Votes 4
  • Parts 3
  • Time 27m
Ongoing, First published Oct 04, 2016
Mature
I'd sit in the rain 

But it's not raining 

And that honestly sucks 

        - Me 

I hit send while hiding my phone under the gray pale desk 

All good things come to those who wait 
                  -Mother Gothel 

Oh my god was she thinking about Disney movies ?


I sighed turned off my phone  and looked up from my desk 

A pale white thing hit the back of my head 

I looked down and saw a crumpled up ball of paper on the floor 

I picked it up and saw what it was 

None other than a creepy note from the one and Only;

Blake White 

I opened the wasted piece of paper 
And I opened it like the dumbass that I am 

It read 
"Your hot can I get your number?" 
I almost wanted to smack him for spelling 'You're ' wrong 

He motions towards the girl in front of me 

I face palm 

Does this guy really have to have that bad of an Aim?
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I hate that I love you

9 parts Ongoing

"What do you want?" I snap, slamming my locker shut. His casual smirk, messy dark hair, tan skin, strong arms, eerie storm-grey eyes... the list could go on of things I notice- that I shouldn't notice- about him. "Oh, I want a lot of things." He inspects a speck of dirt on his arm. "I'm sure you've heard the news?" His eyes flicker back up to meet mine. Does he know? No. He can't. So I roll my eyes. He can't know that I know, that I would do anything to be the first one he tells. "You'll have to be more specific." I mutter, trying to look casual as I inspect my nails. "Well, it involves a certain title of the swim team," He offers. I shrug. "So you got captain. That's cool. And what do I have to do with that?" He narrows his eyes, trying to read my expression. Unfortunately for him, I have mastered the art of hiding my emotions. "This is what I wanted to talk to you about. During English," He fiddles with his sweater sleeve. "I recall you trying to talk to me," I frown. "Well, I..." He swallows, seeming... nervous? "I'm not doing too great... subject wise. And if I don't pick up my ass soon, I might be forced to quit." He rubbed the back of his neck, making his shirtsleeve slide up his arm to reveal a strong bicep. Not that I notice. I narrow my eyes. "And what do I get back in return?" I cross my arms. I'm going to be late for the bus if we don't hurry. He studies my face. "Name your price." He mirrored my position. I sigh. Money... but I don't need it. Popularity... but I don't want it. I meet his gaze steadily. He lifts his chin, the tiniest bit, but it doesn't intimidate me. I square my shoulders and stand up straight. He's only just taller than me. "Stop pretending to be perfect." All rights reserved. Cover art by me :) but will probably be redone soon