"It's just not right!
My daughter should not be involved in this stupid
waste of time!" My mother screeched.. This stupid waste of
time was my art class, which I didn't think was a stupid
waste of time. My dad clearly didn't either, and was just staring
at the floor with his jaw clenched. My dad never fought her on
anything. Anything. And he knew how much I wanted to do this. Her
once dark hair had turned gray, due to her obsessive screeching
at things she didn't like and she had the same petite body with
long legs. We were both around 5'6'', where my dad stood at 6'3''
with a pretty evenly muscled frame dressed in his usual business
suit. My mom wore a cream color Juicy Couture sweat suit and gold
silk high-heels. No thanks.
I stared pleadingly,
with big blue eyes. "Dad," I said, almost frustrated enough to
the edge of tears. It just wasn't fair. I even paid for it with
my own damn money. Not hers! Not that she worked for it or
"I'm going whether you
like it or not." I said. I felt like screaming out curses that
they didn't even know I knew. Ha. Wouldn't they be surprised? I
almost smiled just thinking about it.
"What are you laughing
at, Aria?!" She screamed. I shrugged. "Nothing. I'm going to art
class. You already made me late. Bye." I said. I ignored her
threats and screeches. I looked up at my dad accusingly.
"Thanks." I said sarcastically, extremely angry.
I walked out of the
humongous kitchen, through the foyer, and out the double doors.
Sometimes I just hated them. This being one of those times. I
especially hated my mother. A lot. Mean, I knew, but I just
couldn't help it. She was so judgmental. It was like if you don't
do something her way your life was rui-
"OW!" I yelled. I felt
something run right into me. I fell onto my butt, and everything
in my big bag spilt out, including my sketchbook. I flushed with
anger. So not a good time to run me over. I looked to the side of
me and saw a skateboard with checkered shoes and black skinny
"Fuck! I'm so sorry!" A
deep smooth voice said. I rolled my eyes, despite the shivers it
sent down my spine. I knew that voice.
"Christian." I said
flatly. He grinned charmingly at me. He looked up with blazing
blue eyes through his shaggy black hair. His friends skated up
towards us. "Shit man! You knocked her over!" One of them
"That's okay, D." D was
for Drake, Christian's brother. They were ten months apart. "It's
just Aria." Drake slapped him across the chest. "Don't talk to a
girl like that, bro." He scolded. Christian rolled his eyes and I
scrambled to gather all of my stuff. My Ipod was still on the
ground, which Skye, his other friend, picked up immediately. He
punched in my password. I had no idea how he remembered
"Same old, same old
Aria." He shook his head, which was covered in shaggy bleach
blonde hair. His crazy green eyes lit up, and Drake looked over
his shoulder with amber ones. Drake had dark hair like Christian,
who was still staring at me eagerly.
"Can I help you with
something?" I asked, shoving my sketch book in my bag. I was
already late. "What are you wearing Aria?" He asked me, with an
amused grin. I looked down at my outfit. There was nothing wrong
with it. Besides the fact that my mother had called it trash. I
had on white skinny jeans with rips in the knees and thighs, and
a loose black Rolling Stones razor-back tank top on. I was
wearing strappy flat sandals that were a metallic black.
I rolled my eyes. "Grow
up, Christian. People change while you're at your reform school."
Another chill went down my spine. "Are you cold?" He asked, still
grinning cockily. "No." I said flatly, and snatched my Ipod out
of Skye's hands. "Hey!" He yelled loudly. Thank God I was already
halfway down the street. My mother couldn't hear us all the way
down here. She didn't exactly approve of boys who had been sent
to reform schools because of marijuana smoking and vandalism. I
mean, it's not like I haven't ever tried pot, but all the adults
in this neighborhood had sticks up their asses. Including
Christian handed me his
black hoodie anyway. "Take it just in case." He said, smiling. I
looked at the black shirt he wore, without sleeves. It showed off
his now-toned arms, far from the scrawny ones I remembered. I
took it, knowing he wouldn't let me leave without it.
I got in my red Ferrari
and pushed down the gas pedal, speeding away.
a/n my new novel…finally… please
comment(: I'll love you forever….♥