Chapter Ten- Pretty Little Thing

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Okay, so..I don't know what's happening. This whole influx of votes/fans/reads is all sooo..mind boggling. AND FLIPPIN AMAZING.

So flippin amazing that I pushed and pushed for this..earlier than the rest updates. I promise though-I try. But AP classes suck(like I've mentioned before) and school will always be the top priority for me, so i hope yall understand! (:

BUT AHHHHH. 450+ VOTES?! OVER 300 FANS?! NUMBER 12 ON TEEN FICTION? amazing/mind-boggling/iloveyouguyssoooomuch.

but yeah, enough with this talk..I hope this update is long enough:/ and that yall enjoy it enough to vote for it, or even comment! all the support has been amazing!

SOOOO, without further adieu, ENJOYYY<3

oh, and PS, leave in the comments who should be casted as what. I'm liking Nina Dobrev as Charlotte, but what do yall think? 

comment/vote for motivation for moi! (: or if you liked it..that's cool too.

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Chapter 10- Pretty Little Thing

Ryder Johnson

When Cole said something about hanging out today, I didn’t know he meant the Carnival—where hoards of families went in the weekends during the summer. 

I grimaced. So many people.

But then again.. My eyes drifted to a leggy blonde to my left. I smirked. 

“Come on let’s go.” Cole ushered, tugging onto my jacket. 

“Woah,” I said, pulling his hand off of my arm. “Easy.” He rolled his eyes and started walking anyway. I followed.

“Why’d you wear a leather jacket anyway?” He said over his shoulder. 

“Since when do you care about my fashion choices?” I retorted. He held his hands up in surrender-like fashion. 

“Just sayin, man. It is the summer.” Grunting, I ran a hand through my hair. 

“I’m not hot.” I said simply. A group of teenage girls giggled as they walked by us. My frown morphed into a smirk. “Well, temperature wise, that is.” Cole snorts.

“Oh so smooth Ryder Johnson.” He mocked. “He’s too old for you!” He yelled as we kept walking. Red-faced, the group of girls scurried away from us. Letting out a laugh, I shoved Cole into a pole. “Man, you ruin all my fun.” He grinned, unaffected by my shove. 

“Fun from what? Being a pedophile?” We both laughed. 

“I’m 18, dude. I’m not a pedophile.” I replied, shaking my head in amusement. He rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, but those girls were like, 13.” He said, as if that explained everything. “And you know what they say,” He continued. “Old habits die hard.” 

With that, I pushed him into a churro stand. 

“Okay, now we wait.” Cole says as we stood outside a busy restaurant. I furrowed my eyebrows.

“Wait for what?” Cole averted his eyes to the crowd ahead of us.

“Someone.” He replied vaguely. Before I can say anything else, my eye catches the face of somebody familiar—too familiar. 

“Shit.” I cursed. 

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