BadBoy & GoodGirl

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Chapter 1. (Edited By - @MrKnowitall AND SecretCrowdsAVA)

It’s a cliché way the way I fell in love. It’s simple if you ask me. I fell for the school’s player. The bad boy.

I woke up to the most weirdest dream in history, trust me. It included a large purple dinosaur, a field filled with flowers and a talking sun. Weird huh? I think so.

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I shoved the navy blue duvet off me and climbed out of bed, the bedroom soft carpet came in contact with my feet.

I quickly made my way over to the family bathroom. Due to my parents: a workaholic for a mom, and a cheating liar for a dad, nobody is really ever home, so I’m not hung up on the whole ‘sharing a bathroom’.

Turning on the shower, I stripped of my clothes and shoved them into the nearest hamper before stepping into the hot water. The water felt good against my cold skin and I shivered as the water ran freely down me.

Hopping out of the shower I grabbed a towel from the towel rack and wrapped around my body, quickly running to my room. I didn’t like to hover around when there was a possibility that my mom could be home. She was only home for a few days but most of the time she’d just leave for a business trip. That was the usual routine that has since my dad ran off with the secretary last year. Totally cliché. Couldn’t go for a un-cliché romance could yah dad? Nope.

I sighed and pulled my closet open, grabbing some skinny jeans, a top, and a hoodie. Nothing out of the ordinary. I was typical plain Jane nerd.

I used the towel to remove the excess water from my hair, before blow drying it and throwing it up into a messy bun. I’m never one for appearances. I checked the time and saw that I had a good 30 minutes before I needed to leave the house for school. I’m not one of tardiness. I’ve never been late, no, not once.

I walked downstairs and the rich smell of chocolate chip pancakes intoxicated my nostrils. I neared the kitchen and saw that my mom was cooking breakfast. Strange.

It’s not like she’s lazy or anything it’s just when dad cheated she changed. She stopped taking care of herself and drowned herself in her work. Her office is like her own little get away. Let’s just put it this way she changed, and probably for the worst.

But what was in front of me right then didn’t look like my mom. She had a petite frame with short brown hair that came to a stop at her crook of her neck. She wore casual clothing, a striped shirt with white linen trousers. On her feet where her infamous leopard print slippers.

“Good morning, sweetie,” she greeted.

“Morning.” I smiled.

She turned away from me, back to the stove but didn’t cut off the conversation off. “How are you?” she asked.

I took a step towards the kitchen island, taking a seat on one of the stools.

“I’m good thanks mom. How are you?” I generally wondered if she was okay. It’s not every day that I see my mom cooking breakfast. She’d normally be in her office with either a phone attached to her ear or her fingers typing away on a laptop.

“Good and I’m fine sweetie,” she said before flashing me a smile as she removed the pancakes from the hot pan and onto a stack of that are all ready to serve.

“I made breakfast,” she stated as she turning the gas off and grabbing a plate. She sat on the seat across from me and placed the plate between us. She scooped herself two pancakes and I did the same. Covering my pancake in Nutella, I took a bite and literally at the taste, it was pure bliss. How I missed my mother’s pancakes. I soon ate all the pancakes and stood up with a full stomach.

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