I love HER ✔️ (COMPLETED)

[2] There is More Than One

This, my friend, is Francisco Lachowski. Or as we know him, the infamous Zeke Westley.

xo

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When I get back home from the rink everything is normal again- there's not a creepy stranger, burglar, or cute boy to distract me.

That is if you don't count my little brother, of course.

I go straight to my room and glance at my bed.

I really want to lie down...

Just a short rest...

Then maybe I can do my assignments tomorrow?

Just a few seconds...

No, Hayley.

You have to work.

I sulk and sit down in front of the window which overlooks my garden - not an amazing view. I rest my head in my hands as I look through the icy pains of glass for any distractions.

"Yo bitch! Was work to hard for you?"

That was not the distraction I needed.

I sit forward and open my window. The view has never been that good; just my garden and the neighbours' however now it was more than enough to annoy me. I look into my neighbours backyard to see Mace lying on the grass without a top on. Let me repeat that, without a freaking top on. His blonde, slightly wavy hair flops over his angular face, the sun's gleaming rays bouncing between the abs lining his stomach. He smirks up at me, smug as I admire his body, and I roll my eyes.

"Yo jerk! Ever feel like not being a creepy psychotic stalker?" I shout down before slamming the window shut.

I can just make out his amazing comeback from outside. "Come on, you're no fun!"

I sigh. Give it a rest, will you?

"Hayleyyyy...?" A small voice from behind me asks.

Oh I've had enough of him right now. He had to go and blow it, didn't he?

"WHAT?!" I yell and turn to see my four-year-old brother whose eyes immediately fill with tears. I reach over to give him a hug. "Aw I'm sorry Charlie, that wasn't aimed at you."

He gives me a small hug back before tilting his tiny head up to look at me. "Who were you talking to?"

I give his hand a small squeeze. "Nobody, don't worry. What did you want?"

"Would you put me to bed and read me a story? Mommy is busy."

Charlie is one of the sweetest 4 year olds sometimes; with bright blue eyes wide and unknowing, his chubby cheeks making him look like a little marshmallow. However without nap time or a story he is quite the opposite - he becomes a grumpy teenage boy on his man period. The difference with Charlie is he has a rare kind of amnesia, far beyond being simply forgetful.

"Sure, come on." I take his tiny hand.

I'll tell him the story I described last night, since he won't remember it anymore.