-SIX YEARS EARLIER

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I opened the front door, hearing the noise of chatter coming from upstairs. I lifted one foot, took off the shoe and did the same thing to the other.

My brother rarely had anyone over, so it was exciting to see who would be with him. Was it a boy? A girl? Bubba has a girlfriend?!

I clung my backpack off halfway up the stairs, rushing where the noise was coming from. I wanted to see who my bubba had fallen in love with!

My hand fisted over the handle, opening the door. This most certainly is not a girl and if it is, I was baffled.

He had ginger hair like carrots, eyes so green like the fresh grass. A sharp jawline and freckles. I can't tell his exact height, but from what I can tell is that he's most likely around five foot six, maybe even taller.

"I was just talking about you!" Chandan smiled, jumping off his bed and grabbing me by the wrist. "This is Malcolm Parker. He's working as a lifeguard downtown," My brother informed me. His words were blurred out, though. My heart beat picked up, blood rushing to my face. Malcolm's eyes wandered about my whole body.

"He's sixteen," My brother nudged my arm. He's sixteen? The way he looked at me he seemed didn't care about his age.

"You're twelve, if my memory serves me right," Malcolm flashed me a large smile. "I-I'm twelve, you're correct," I cleared my throat.

"So you work downtown?" I asked. He nodded, his hair falling in front of his eye. Instinctively, my hand reached over and pulled it behind his ear. He chuckled, arching an eyebrow at me.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "It's nothing," I nodded. "I don't think I've been downtown before," Malcolm stared at me in disbelief. "You're coming with me right now!" His deep laugh came up from his throat, out through his mouth. I furrowed my eyebrows, yet still laughing.

Chandan smirked, letting Malcolm grab my wrist and take me with him.

"Malcolm!" I yelled through laughter. "Calm down," His wide smile told me that there was no way in hell he was gonna do that.

He put on his shoes, getting on one knee after. He grabbed my foot covered by a sock and slipped my foot through it, the same with the other foot.

He tapped that foot before getting up and opening the door for me.

Why was he acting so nice? Why was he acting like a gentleman? Maybe he is, dumbo.

A truck I didn't notice before was parked in the driveway, in Malcolm's hand, keys. He lifted up his hand, pressing down the unlock button and a loud sound came from the truck that looked like it was made in the late 90's.

He came over to my side and opened the door for me. I thanked him, then put a foot on the foot rail. The truck was a dark blue, the inside cozy. On the mirror, it had a surfboard necklace around it.

On the steering wheel it had a black coat covering it.

Hearing the door open, Malcolm got it. Pushing the key inside and twisting it in the starter. The truck let out a powerful roar, shaking the car a little.

Malcolm put one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gear stick. My eyes followed the way his veins contracted in his hand and arm, the way he did every movement. I shouldn't feel these things, I knew that. Fuck, I knew the way I felt about him would come and tase me in the ass. Nevertheless, it's not like I could stop these thoughts. My body ached for him.

He turned on the radio, letting the music drown out my thoughts. Taylor Swift. A smile took over my face as I started to sing the lyrics softly.

Malcolm chuckled. "Miss Taylor fan?" He smirked. "Always will be," And I will be. Nothing could ever rip me apart from her.

I couldn't have feelings for Malcolm. I didn't even
remember his last name. Fuck, this is so stupid! I don't deserve him. I'm twelve. We are forbidden. What would my brother think of us? Would he be disgusted? I can't imagine my brother being disappointed in me. I haven't even known him for a day, so why would I suddenly like him now?

When I saw him, all I knew was that I wanted this boy to be mine. That can't happen. I'm giving myself false beliefs but hell, it kinda felt good doing it at the same time.

Question is, why do I like him at first sight? Why do I see so much in the boy? He's a nobody.

This was all so fucking confusing. I wanted him, even if I couldn't have him. I knew I couldn't have him, so I told myself to let him go when all I want is him.

He doesn't even like me either. I'm just a fucking fool.

His age... It pulled me closer to him. I don't know why, it just did. I want something I can't get. Unhealthy habits.

Feeling a force on my shoulder, I blinked and scrunched my eyebrows. My eyes found his, shining bright in the sunlight.

The way he looked at me was very similar to the way dad looked at mama. I always adored the way they looked at eachother.

"C'mon," He got out of the car, opening my door and closing it behind me. In front of us was a very old, torn up building. At the top it stated, 'THRIFT LIFT'. I looked at Malcolm, catching him side glancing at me. He didn't look away.

I cleared my throat, blushing. "A thrift store?" Malcolm nodded. "What can we get from here?" I asked, feeling pretty damn stupid at the moment. "Cheap, used clothes. Trust me, the clothes there are super cute!" I shrugged, smiling. "If I leave with more than ten pieces of clothing then yeah, you're right and I'll put everyone I know on to this store. If I don't, you have to buy me ice cream." I stuck out my pinky finger. Malcolm stared at it for a couple of seconds, then connected his finger with mine.

When we got in the store, all I knew is that it was way more than just clothes. Toys, books, shelfs, furniture were here, too.

I heard a gasp from beside me and turned to Malcolm who was pointing to a hoodie. Taylor Swift!

Nearly running, I got what I wanted and hugged it close to me. Next to the hoodie I saw these pretty pants that I think could fit me. This was Barbie's closet, for sure.

When it was time to check out, I had more than ten bags. To be fair, I saw Miss. Taylor in there a bunch of times.

"I still want my ice cream," I crossed my arms, sinking in the chair. "We were going to get some anyway," He popped my nose.

"Ew, germs!" I yelled. "I thought girls your age say cooties?" He smirked. "You have dickies," I stuck out my tongue at him, smiling.

He put a hand over his heart as if it hurt and said,"You have cooties!"
I leaned over the cupboard and whispered in his ear, "Get over it," and went back to my seat, winking at him.

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This chapter does have grammar mistakes, I know.

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