Past Loves. Past Lives.

Angel Tells Tales of Brooklynn's Life

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Okay, so I've realized by now that most Wattpad authors post one Author's note, either at the beginning or the end, but since I like to talk I'm gonna post two! One at the beginning and one at the end so you could a double dose of epicosity! :) 

You could skip this if you wanted to, but . . . 

Why would you want to do that?

Any-lug-nuts, 

I want to thank everyone (all three of you) who have voted/ commented on my story. It really means a lot to me!! Critiques and advice are also welcomed! (Sorry about the editing mistakes! At least I tried)

So, I was going to upload Saturday, but I totally forgot! I apologize! Little late on the update now, but to make up for it I will be updating today, and tomorrow! So, look forward to that! :)

Any-dollars-and-dimes, 

On with the story!

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Chapter 2

I spent the rest of the bus drive trying to figure out what had been real and what my mind had made up. The boy and his creeper antics had seemed real enought, but my imagination was large enough to swallow an ocean.I began to second guess myself. As we rounded the corner and pulled into the city, I began to doubt that I had seen the boy at all.

Was he real, or had I just made it all up? Part of me hoped so, and another part prayed to God that my wild imagination had gotten away from me again and I had made the whole thing up.

                                                                                 *>*<* 

I got to school - late, as suspected - and was forced to get a hall pass from the snooty teacher's pet manning the front office. Once I put that brat behind me, I found my English class and plopped in my seat, earning a few stares from fellow classmates. The eye I was most reluctant to meet was my best friend, Angel McMartin.

She was, most likely, pissed that I was late considering she had been planning on copying notes from me before the bell. For a test this period, actually. 

When I wa finally unable to avoid her gut-wrenching gaze, I looked up and smiled innocently, trying to make a halo pop up over my head for effect. She just rolled her eyes and looked away.

I mangaged to hold off her barrage of questions until lunch period, in which she began the interoggation before I was even out of my seat (we shared fifth period as well as first). 

To sidetrack her, I threw out a bit of info on my - possibly madeup - morning encounter. She took the bait and questioned me so throughly I was forced to relieve the whole experience with her to the point where I was going over every detail, piece by piece. 

Her response was more than I expected. 

"What did he look like? Was he cute? Did you recognize him at all?" Angel asked, eyes bright and curious.

We had just made it through the cafeteria line and were just sitting down for lunch in the cafeteria of our proud school, Westlake high; home of the Westlake wolves, and crumbling foundation.

"Your enthusiasim is nauseating," I said, picking up my sandwich, before tossing it away and picking up my apple instead.

She looked at me, dead-pan. "Answer the question."

I rolled my eyes before saying, "I don't know to all of the above. I didn't get a good look at him. All I could see were his pale grey eyes and black hair."