Cute couple stories

Dead Brother's BFF (Kevin and Destiny)

I pick at the food on my plate, trying to ignore the nauseating feeling rising in my throat. How can I eat when he's in the same room as me? How can I eat when all I want is for him to call me beautiful instead of fat? I sigh and push my plate away from me.
"You okay, Destiny?" My friend Sarah asks me, concern written across her face. "You've barely been eating recently." I plaster a smile on, the best I can conjure.
"I'm fine," I say, trying to sound assuring.  "I just haven't been feeling the best lately."
"It's not because of what Kevin has been saying, is it?" Sarah's voice goes stern. "Because you are not fat, Des. He's just a moron who has his head so far up his own ass it's unbelievable." I fight the urge to defend him. Because is know she's right. Kevin is a moron, he does have his head up his own ass. But I still can't help being in love with him. I can't control how I feel.
"I know," I finally say. My friends all know about my being in love with Kevin, my bully. The boy who torments me verbally, whose girlfriends torment me physically.
"I think we need to have a girly weekend," Fanny, another one of my friends, says. "Something needs to be done to take your mind away from that dick."
"So are we going to do Friday and Saturday this time or just Saturday again?" Sarah asks.
"I think we should do Friday and Saturday," Kathalina says.
"I can't do Friday," I say. "I can only do Saturday."
"Same," Jasmine says.
"Okay," Sarah says. "Saturday night. Where?"
"We were at mine last time, so no," I say. Everyone looks to Kathalina.
"Why me?" She whines.
"Because, to be honest Kat, you have the nicest house," Fanny states. Kathalina shrugs and carries on eating her lunch.
"So," I say. "Tomorrow. Six o'clock. Kat's house."
"Yep, and bring snacks and crap," Sarah says.
"Got it."

"But if I had you, that would be the only thing I'd ever need," I sing along to Adam Lambert as I walk home.
"Please shut up, my ears are bleeding." My heart jumps to my mouth at the sound of his voice from behind me. I try my best to remain calm, forget he's there. It fails miserably. How can I ignore him? I wish, oh I wish I could. I wish I could hate him. I wish I had the courage to fight back, to defend myself.  But I can't. Not against him. I can hear him whispering to his friends, and I can hear them snickering. I subtly speed up my pace, but a few moments later I feel something hit the back of my head. My hand shoots up to it and comes into contact with something wet and squishy. Gum. Shit. I turn and see Kevin and his friends running away, laughing. Kevin's hair is shining under the sunlight. Tears spring to my eyes and I end up running the rest of the way home. My parents are at work, so I can cry freely without being interrogated. I run into my room, put Black Veil Brides on really loud. I go to the bathroom, look into the mirror. I look a mess; my long blonde hair, naturally straight, is dishevelled from where I was running, my eyes are red and puffy and my cheeks are lined with mascara and eyeliner. I pick up the bathroom scissors and attempt to cut the gum out without cutting too much hair. Success. I've had a bit of practice at this, because it's happened before. Twice. I put the hair-gum in the bin and reach for my face wipes. When I've cleaned myself up, I twist my hair into a messy bun. My face is now clean, except for my eyes which are still slightly pink. But at least I've managed to stop crying. I go back into my room and look at the time. 4pm. I pick up my purse, my keys and my iPod before heading out. I can't help glancing over my shoulder as I walk, nervous. I make it to the cemetery with no sign of Kevin and his cronies, luckily. I weave through the headstones and the memorial plaques until I reach the one I visit every time I've had a bad day. The headstone belongs to my older brother, Kenny, who died in a car accident about a year ago. He was always the one who listened to me talk about my problems, my bad days, and he would comfort me as I cried. I kneel down in front of his headstone, reach out and trace the lettering with my fingers.
"Hey Kenny," I whisper. "I've had a pretty shit day again." I can just hear him saying "Talk to me, Des" like he always used to.
"Kevin and his friends got gum in my hair. Third time's a charm, right?" I give a weak laugh. "I still love him though." I look up at the sky and watch the wispy clouds float across.
"I miss you Kenny. So much." The tears blur my vision and I look down, shut my eyes. Don't cry. Do not cry. When the tears finally subside, I lift my head and open my eyes. A few stray tears fall out and I wipe them away with my sleeve. I take a deep breath and proceed to tell Kenny about my plans with the girls' tomorrow night. He always liked to know what I was up to. I tell him about our mom and dad's plans for a movie night tonight.  Kenny would be a junior, nearly a senior, like Kevin. I'm just a freshman. He's missed my first year at high school, which is actually almost over. Two weeks. Two weeks and then two months of summer. And then I'll be a sophomore. Well, my birthday first, and then a sophomore. I'm going to be sixteen. Sixteen! Kenny would be eighteen next week. I remember when we were planning his eighteenth even before his seventeenth!
"I'll spend the day with you and Mom and Dad," he'd said. "And then I'll go out with my friends in the evening."
"Sounds good," I'd said. "But you've gotta make it to your eighteenth first." We'd joked about it then, laughed at it. But he never did make it to his eighteenth, as it turns out. I sniffle and wipe my eyes again with my sleeve. I look at the time on my iPod. 4:38pm. Time always goes so fast when I'm here. I stand up and blow a kiss to the headstone.
"Love you, Kenny," I say softly.