"Whoa! You've gotta be more careful!" exclaimed the tall, blond dude holding me. He set me straight and I brushed invisible dirt off my grey, woolen jacket. My hair hid my face, as well as my embarrassed blush, but the wind blew it off my cheeks, revealing my identity.
"I am so sorry!" I apologized, picking my board up off the ground and groaning when I saw that my left, front wheel had popped off and disappeared.
"Eh. It's okay." said the good looking stranger, stuffing his hands awkwardly into the pockets of his tan cargo pants. He hesitated a moment before speaking again. "My name's Westley Prince."
He smiled at me, his white teeth gleaming against the setting sun's last rays, and holding out one of his hands. I took it awkwardly, with what I'm sure was a very flustered look on my face.
"Nadia Luv." I said as we shook hands. His deep blue eyes seemed vaguely familiar. "Do I know you, or something?" I asked him, my confusion growing by the second. He shook his head, causing his slightly long curls to bounce up and down.
"I don't think so." he said. We both seemed to realize we were still holding each others hands at the same time, and dropped them awkwardly.
I pulled out a piece of paper and hurriedly jotted down my cell phone number. I handed it to him and he looked at it bewilderingly.
"Thanks for saving me from a nasty fall, but I've got to go now. My mom is expecting me home soon. Call me sometime, or text me." I said as I started to jog away. I looked back to catch another glimpse of him, but he had disappeared. Probably into one of the many shops lining the road.
When I finally made it home, I wrenched open the door of the crappy, paint-peeling, yellow house I lived in with my mother. The rusty hinges creaked in protest as the door sprang shut, scraping against my heel.
"Crap!" I shouted as I threw my stuff on our second-hand, faded, blue love seat. I made it into the bathroom just as the first tendril of blood made it to the edge of my black high tops. I quickly grabbed some paper towel and clamped it over the blood, praying that it wouldn't stain my shoe.
"Nadia? Are you home, dear?" asked my 42-year-old mother, her voice resonating through the house.
"I'm in the bathroom, Mom!" I shouted down the hall as I searched in the cabinet behind our mirror for a band-aid.
"What happened Hun?" my mom gasped from the doorway just as I slapped the band-aid against my now red skin.
"The door bit me." I grumbled as I examined the dark spot on my shoe. It wouldn't be noticeable to most people, but to me it stuck out like an orange hunting hat in a forest. Maybe, I'd been reading to many red neck books, I thought after that analogy.
"Are you going to be okay dear?" my mother asked sympathetically, tucking a strand of her graying black hair behind her ear. I nodded my head as I stood up. I was a good 3 inches taller than my frail mother, who only stood at about 5'4". I was very tall for my age, but thankfully this'd be as tall as I get.
"Dinner's ready if you are." she said curtly, turning on her heels and making for the kitchen. I followed her down the hall and into the awfully pink are where we prepared and ate our food.
Suddenly, my mother crumpled to the floor, her legs having given out from under her. My eyes widened in shock as I rushed to her side.
"Are you alright?" I asked worriedly.
"I'm fine! I'm fine! I just ripped over my own two feet, that's all." she shrugged it off. "Now help me up, dear?"
I grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. I let her use my shoulder as a crutch while I led her to a chair at the table. I gave her a concerned look.
"I think you should go get checked out, Mom. That was, what, your fifth fall in the past two months?" I suggested to her. She waved her hand at me with a flick of her wrist.
"I'm just clumsy, dear. Stop worrying about me and take the macaroni off the stove." she commanded. I shot her one more concerned look before doing as I was told.
After we had finished eating the undercooked mac and cheese- which was the way I liked it -I grabbed my stuff from the living room and brought it to my cramped, messy bedroom. My room was about 12 by 12 feet. It used to be painted as pink as the kitchen, but I fixed that with some white spray paint. I'd also sprayed some cool decals on my walls with the help of my friends. They were the only place I would ever do graffiti, no matter how much my friends pressured me.
My friends weren't exactly what you'd call the 'good type.' They were rebels, and proud of it. They had piercings and tattoos, but they didn't drink, they didn't do drugs, and they didn't shoplift. They just paint the town and skate.
The only reason they have a rep for being bad kids, is because they got caught doing graffiti on the school grounds.
I opened my backpack and took out my crappy, pre-paid phone. Five new messages, my screen flashed. The first two were from my friend, Tonia. The next two were from Carlos, my cousin. The last was from an unknown number. I scrolled down to the last one and opened it up.
Hi, Nadia. This is Westley.
The signature read, 'Fairy Lucky.' I assumed he's just forgotten to put the 'l' in fairly.
Hi West! What's up?
I text-ed back. It was a couple minutes before he text-ed me back.
The sky it up, and the birds are in the sky, so I guess they're up as well...
His text seemed suspiciously sarcastic.
LOL
I text-ed back. I laid back in my bed, and proceeded to work on some last minute, summer homework. School'd start tomorrow, and I had a lot of work to do. It was going to be a long night...
Chapter 1 ~ Fairly Lucky?
Start from the beginning
