Chapter One

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My name is Paige. Paige Coran. I'm seventeen years old, and my mother just passed away. Don't worry, it's okay. She was in a lot of pain and to be honest I'm glad she isn't hurting anymore.

Now I have to move in with my Aunt Martha... in England. I can tell you I'm kinda scared because of one little thing. My Aunt Martha is the mother of a guy named Logan. My crush. My love. My cousin.

I will be living with him. I mean I've only ever seen him in person once but that was a year ago at the family reunion back in Ireland. Now I have to see his gorgeous face all the time. In my fantasies he has the same feelings I do, but this is real life. He probably has a really beautiful girlfriend or something.

He is nineteen. And it doesn't bother me at all that he still lives with his mother. He helps her out all the time with all kinds of things. I think it's so admirable.

07:27 pm ; Thursday

My phone begins to ring as I wait at the airport for my plane. "Hello."

"Paige! How are you sweetheart? not to down are we? I miss her too, but we have to keep our chin up darling!" my aunt said. I love my Aunt Martha so much. She is one of the most kind hearted people on this planet.

"I'm fine, Aunt Martha, don't worry. I can't wait to see you and *I hesitate for a split second* Logan"

"I can't wait to see you either dear. Logan still hasn't a clue your coming. A bit of a surprise for him it'll be, won't it?" she gently laughed.

I chuckled too under my breath. I wonder what he will say when he sees me. All of a sudden I don't know what possessed me to say: "Logan doesn't have a girlfriend by any chance, does he?"

I froze once I realised what I had said. "Not anymore after that evil girl Amelia cheated on him." she answered normally. I didn't hear an ounce of suspicion in her voice, thank God.

"Er, Aunt Martha I really must let you go, the plane is here and boarding" I said distrated.

"Alright Paige, I love you!!!! bye!!"

"Love you too," I said in return. She hung up.

"Logan, I can't wait to see you," I thought.

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