I'm The Good Girl, He's The Bad Boy. Your Typical Love Story...I Think Not

Chapter 1 & 2

I'm The Good Girl, He's The Bad Boy. Your Typical Love Story...I Think Not [Chapter 1 & 2]

Chapter 1:

"My sweet darling get ready," my mom's voice floated up the stairs as she appeared in my doorway.

"Mom," I whined hiding underneath my covers.

"Oh my sweet child, wake up darling. You have to get ready. I have an important function to attend at the galleria and you need to be there," she says opening the curtains. Luckily, I'm underneath my covers and therefore am covered and protected from the evil sun's rays. Not for long. My mom flings off the covers and almost immediately I shield my eyes from the blinding sunlight.

"Mom, what are you doing," I ask her. I sit up on my hands and watch she looks through my closet every once in a while flicking her tongue before continuing. I try to ignore it and go back to bed but unfortunately she appears next to me holding up a dress. It's black and ends above the knee. The part of the dress a little bit below my breasts is sleeveless black mesh. I got it for my sixteenth birthday from my hippie grandma but never had the chance to wear it...well I did but I still haven't worn it.

"Get dressed sweetie," was the only thing she said before throwing the dress on the bed and walking out. I growl in frustration before finally heaving my petite, small, 5'5 body off my warm, comfortable bed and into the shower. I won't give you details of what I did in the bathroom (not in the naughty way you little kids) because it's too boring. I blow dried my hair and it's immediately straight. I was cursed with my dad's pin straight hair. I've always wanted curly hair like my mother but I wasn't too lucky. I put on the dress feeling slightly down, realizing how plain I looked in this gorgeous dress. I wasn't too lucky to be blessed with my parent's good looks. I put on some eyeliner and I was set to go. I grabbed my black clutch and threw in some eyeliner, my iPod, 20 bucks, and my cellphone. Slipping on my black flats, I could finally say I was set to go.

"Mom, I'm ready," I screamed out loud, grabbing a granola bar and eating it in three bites.

"I'll be down sweetheart," she yelled back.

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My mom came downstairs in a blue mini dress and white heels; her hair was once again in its natural curls. "You look hot mom," I told her. She squeals like a little girl and kisses the air around me before calling out "Matt" aka my dad. "Yes sweetie," my dad's warm and comforting voice calls out. "Come out here sweetie." My dad walks in the kitchen in his striped pajama pants and white man tank. His muscles were clearly exposed and my mom went gaga basically leaping on him and giving him a big French kiss. My face scrunched up.

"Mom, dad," I screech hiding behind my hands. They both pull apart with sheepish grins. Even though they're 33, they act like they're still teenagers when together. When they're not, my dad is the mature one and my mom is the teenager. But they still have their teenage moments. After all, they had me when they were both 16.

"Mom if you're done smooching dad, can we leave," I ask her. "Sorry yeah, let's go." she says. "I'll see you later honey," she gives my dad one more peck before we both walk out of the door and climb into her Nissan Quest van.

Chapter 2

My mom giggled as people marveled her different pieces of art. We were here at La Bella Galleria (my mom and dad based there business names together), my mom's art gallery. It was filled with snobby looking people dressed in rich, expensive designer clothes. There were young women about my mom's age maybe even older mingling with guys that were twice their age. Shows how self centered they are, only liking the person for their money.

My mom greeted different people as I slowly followed her feeling very awkward as some older men in their 20s gawked at me. I bit my lip as they goggled at me. I slightly shifted to the other side of my mom trying to be oblivious about what I'm doing. I sighed in relief as my mom told me to go sit down at our table.

We were currently in the center of the galleria; this was the main center of the huge building. It was also the place where all the formal events occurred. There were tables set up with white table cloths with a silver lining at the bottom. The dishwares were a clear white making it look very cool.

I sat down finally relieved that the tension off of my feet is gone. I just stared at the people that were walking around and the few random teenagers that were talking promptly just a table away. They looked like huge, rich snobs. I can't say my family is middle class or poor because we're not. We're sort of rich but not like 'oh my father has millions of dollars' more like 'my father has a few million dollars.' But I don't act snobby just because of my social status.

I scoffed in disgust as one of the preppy looking teens jumped off from her seat and headed towards another table. I followed her and watched as she sat down next to a boy on the other side of the table. I couldn't see his face since he is sitting away from me but from the back I could tell he's muscular with a wide build and jet black hair. The preppy girl laid a manicured hand on his shoulder and laughed a laugh that sounded like a cat drowning. She was kneeling forward so her whole rack was on display.

I coughed and murmured 'slut' underneath my breath. Apparently it was loud enough to catch the snobby looking teenagers' attention because they all turned to stare at me including Mr. Hot Shot aka the guy that was currently getting flirted up by Ms. Slut. I blushed slightly as I turned away, trying to hide my burning face as one of the boy whistled.

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"Finally," I shouted to my mother. We just had dinner an hour ago which was 8:30 and now an hour later we're getting to leave. What a relief. Throughout the rest of the event I sat down trying to hide from the snobby teenagers hoping they wouldn't approach me. Apparently luck was on my side because all I got was a handful of glares from Ms. Slut. Thank god, that was all. I could handle that chick.

My mom was saying her last minute goodbyes to some of the people while I was waiting outside in the garden area. I plucked off a beautiful looking rose from one of the rose bushes and as I sniffed it I felt someone sit down next to me. I looked over to my side surprised to see Mr. Hot Shot. Wow, his face looked different. Like I said I only saw his backside. But damn is he hot.

He has messy jet black hair that falls slightly over his eyes with these piercing green eyes. He has a lip piercing that only makes him look sexy and he's still wearing his suit except now the tie is half undone and hanging around his neck while he has his jacket hung over his shoulder. He looks hot, sexy, cute, GORGEOUS. I think I died and went to heaven.

I finally realize that I'm staring and possibly drooling. I subconsciously wipe the area near my mouth with my hand not noticing I did so until he chuckles. "It's alright I know I'm hot." My mouth drops open almost immediately as he says that and a scowl climbs its way up to my lips. "Get that scowl off your pretty face, you look better that way," he says once again putting me into shock. Is he trying to insult me? Then again he did say that very sincerely, maybe he complimented me!? I look up at him and he chuckles before plucking a rose and handing it to me. I twirl the now two roses around in my hand.

"That's me and that's you," he says bringing the roses together. I blush slightly as I realize what he said. "You look cute when you blush," he says again. Once again I blush. I'm pretty sure my face is on fire. He trails a finger down my cheek and it's safe enough to say my cheek is on fire, I feel all these little tingles as his smooth yet rough hand explores my cheek.

Shaking I whisper "who are you?" "Kane darling and your pretty self is?" "Annabelle." "It's a pleasure to meet you," he says grinning and taking his hand back. 'No put it back there,' my inner conscious yells. It felt too good, the tingles, the sparks. I might as well faint just thinking of all those. I was so deep in my thoughts that when I looked up he was gone. I wildly spin my head looking for his beautiful face but found the garden empty and only the faint noises of people talking and chattering.

As I jump off the bench, one question spins around my head. Who was he really? And what was he doing here?

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