The Epitome of Perfection

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

Seventeen year old Alex has grown up with parent's who pay no attention to her. Her only escape is her best friend, Peter. Popularity is not an option for her, and she doesn't mind it one bit.
But what happens when Tyler Cruz, one of the most popular boys in school and the one she swore she hated, takes a liking to her?
This isn't your normal popular boy-falls-for unpopular girl, because sometimes, the unexpected can happen.

Chapter 1 (v.1) - The Epitome of Perfection

Submitted: December 29, 2012

Reads: 668

Comments: 3

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Submitted: December 29, 2012



There were only two things I hated in this world, French toast and Tyler Cruz. Sure, there were tons of things I disliked, but those were the only two things I hated. I don’t particularly know why I hated French toast, but there was just something about it that I couldn’t stand. And for Tyler Cruz…I know why I hated him. I know very well. He was the definition of a cocky jock. He was hot, and he knew it. He flirted with every girl, well, they had to fit his standards, I mean. Okay, to be more specific, he flirted with every popular girl. He played soccer, even though most of the popular guys were on the football team, which was the only way he was different. Big whoop. He was a smart ass, and he was full of himself. He had an ego the size of a universe. Basically everything about him got on my nerves.

So you can understand why I was beyond pissed when he “accidentally” dumped his diet Pepsi down my shirt. I stepped away from him quickly, appalled.

“Sorry, babe,” he said. You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was not very sorry at all.

“Asshole,” I muttered. I shoved past him without even bothering to look at his face.

“Whoa, there,” he called out at my retreating back.

I rolled my eyes and didn’t even bother responding. You know how people usually make fun of the weird kids? They’ll pick on the kids that let’s say, have a lot of acne, or are abnormally tall, or have buck teeth, or something like that. Not that there’s anything wrong with any of that, but it seems as if people just zero in on one flaw that you have and pick it to death? Yeah, well, I was raised in a family where self confidence was a big thing. Even when I was little, and especially now, I believed that with my curly brown hair, bright blue eyes, rather curvy figure (if I do say so myself), and okay sense in style, I had nothing to made fun of. But maybe that’s how everyone goes into life, thinking they’re normal. Then you meet other kids and they pick on you until you feel like absolute shit. Yeah, well, personally I haven’t ever been made fun of. I’m just rather excluded from everything that seems to matter to everyone else.

For example, I’m not interested in gossip. I hate it, honestly. It bores the life out of me. I don’t have millions of friends. Actually, I don’t even have that many. The friends that I do have consist of good friends and just people to talk to. I’m not like most kids who care so much about their appearance. Don’t get me wrong, I make sure that I never look like absolute shit, but I don’t spend hours obsessing over what I look like. And I’m not one of those people who is like, all against makeup, because I do wear it. I wear eyeliner, mascara, and if I’m just having a bad skin day, foundation. Most days I wear skinny jeans and a pair of my many Vans.

Tyler had just spilt his drink all over my Sublime shirt that I had got at their concert. I glared at nothing as I stalked down the hall towards the bathroom. This was just great. Way to ruin my day, asshole.

“Alex!” I heard a voice that I already knew was Peter’s shout from behind me.

I ignored him and kept walking.

“Alex!” he called again.

He was my best friend, but he didn’t have the best timing. I was in a horrible mood and so did not want to deal with him. I knew that if he caught up to me I would be bombarded with questions that I didn’t want to answer. I tried to ignore the fact that he was getting closer.

“ALEXANDRA!” he finally screamed.

I spun around only to have him slam right into me. I was knocked back off my feet. I fell on my ass with a thud. Peter was peering down at me.

“What the hell are you looking at?” I snapped at him.

He frowned at me and then said, “Fine, be a bitch. I’m not helping you up.” He then walked away.

I stayed on the ground, but turned my head, watching him walk away.

“Need some help there?” I heard a voice ask.

I knew that voice, that annoyingly deep voice. Could this day get any worse? I turned my head around and found Tyler looking down at me smirking.

“Not from you,” I said back. I pulled myself up and grabbed my bag up off the ground that had been knocked from my grasp when Peter rammed into me. I sighed and started walking to the bathroom. I just wanted this day to end.


Walking home from school was hell. First of all, I lived too close to the school for a bus to come, and usually it wasn’t a big deal. But when it was raining, I had a problem. I mean, who wants to walk home in the pouring rain? No one, unless you’re weird. I didn’t consider myself weird, so therefore I didn’t want to walk home in the rain. I had forgotten my umbrella today. It was just my luck. I glared at the ground and tried to protect myself from the rain with my drenched hoodie. I wasn’t having much luck doing that. I was cold to the bone and my socks were squishing around in my shoes.

I heard a car pull up next to me.


I turned my head to see who it was. I couldn’t see very well because it was getting dark out. I had to stay after school to work on a project, and it was getting darker earlier. I was pretty sure it was Peter, though. “Peter?”

“Get in the car!” he yelled, but his voice was muffled by the rain, making it hard to hear him.

I wasn’t going to say no to a free ticket out of the rain. I ran around the car and climbed in on the passenger’s side. I slammed the door shut and immediately started shivering. I wrapped my arms around myself and glanced over at Peter.

I froze.

That was not Peter at all.

“What the hell?” I screamed at Tyler.

He frowned over at me. “What’s wrong?”

“I thought you were Peter!”

“Well, I’m not,” he said, pulling away from the curb.

“Stop the car,” I said through clenched teeth. The last place I wanted to be was in a car with Tyler. It was the absolute last place.

He looked at me like I was crazy. “It’s pouring outside.”

“Stop the car,” I repeated.

“No,” he said simply.

“Stop the damn car and let me out!” I screamed.

“Why?” he said, keeping his eyes on the road.

“I don’t want to be in this damn car!”

“Why? Do I make you nervous?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“No, you piss me off. Now, pull over and let me out.”

He ignored me and continued driving. He was smirking slightly and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Tyler. Stop the damn car.”

He sighed dramatically, “Andra, listen—”

I cut him off saying, “What? Andra? What the hell is that?”

“That’s your name, obviously.”

“That’s not my name. My name is Alexandra, or Alex, not Andra. What the hell kind of a name is that?”

“I just made it up.”

“Well it’s stupid. Now stop the car and let me out.”

He sighed again. “No.”



“Damn it, Tyler, let me out!”

“I don’t think so…”

I wanted out of this damn car. As we pulled up to a red light, I quickly opened the car door and jumped out.

“Hey!” Tyler said, surprised.

“Catch you later, asshole,” I said sarcastically. I slammed the door shut and walked across the street to the sidewalk. I ran under a tree, trying to get out of the rain. I had sort of a sick satisfaction in leaving the car in such a dramatic way. I pulled out my phone and called Peter.

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