The Badboy Next Door #badboy #romance #teen fiction #forbidden #love

Chapter One Perfecting Stages

He had sandy blonde hair, that was ruffled all over the place, his skin was golden, more from the sun than genes, and his eyes were a piercing pale blue. Like blue flames, in a ring of fire.

His frame seemed to be well built, both from genes and iron pumping. Every part of him seemed to be chiseled out by Michelangelo himself.

I stand in the window, with my nose pressed against the glass like I child looking in on a candy store. But this boy was candy. Eye candy.

Just as that thought left my mind, as if he heard it, the boy spontaneously turned around, and looked right at me. I felt my spirit die inside of me. he gave the slightest knowing smirk as he lifted his hand and gave me a small wave.

I felt my heart leap and my body go with it as I jumped and squeaked in mid-air and darted to the side.

My mom who had been mixing cookie dough turned around. Her hands covered in flour, her eyebrows furrowed as she cocked her head to the side and starred at me.

I smile awkwardly as I dart for the stairs, halfway towards my destination Paul calls after me.

"Where are you going?" he asks as he turns around. His jaw is set.

"Umm, I have some homework I have to get done before tomorrow." I smile and run up the stairs before he can respond.

After escaping I closed and locked my door for extra measure. I don't know how long I stayed up there, but I must have fallen asleep.

A knock sounds at my door. My vision is foggy and I can barely recall anything.

"Yeah?" I call out.

My usual tan room is darker, much darker than normal. My window is closed, my blinds are down and my curtains are closed. I never close my blinds.

"Naomi, we are going over to greet the new neighbors you're coming with." My mom says softly from behind my locked door.

New neighbors?

An image flashes in my mind as I remember the family I watched moving in from the kitchen window this morning.

"Um, do I have to? I don't feel too good." I lie as I sit up in my bed.

"Nice try. Your father told me what happened earlier, you're going to have to meet the boy sooner or later. Sooner is better than later." My mom says before her shadow disappears from underneath my door.

"He's not my father." I grumble to myself as I get out of bed. I check my appearance in the mirror. As ghastly as usual.

I put my brown hair up into a ponytail and put a little blush on my cheeks and some mascara on, just to keep them from thinking they moved into, The Night of the Living Dead movie set.

I breathe out as I unlock my door and step out, rounding the corner and walking down the stairs.

I can feel my intestines thump and swirl inside my stomach. The smell of freshly baked cookies fills my nose and reminds my stomach that I haven't eaten all day.

We open the front door and step down the walkway and onto the street. We make a right and walk along the sidewalk until we get to the driveway of the other house.

We follow the carefully placed walkway up to their porch and Paul rings the doorbell. It was slightly ironic. The perfect family all dolled up with a plate of cookies, going to see the neighbors. And we were anything but what we were showing them.

We were no perfect family. We were not how we presented ourselves.

The wide beige door with the oval glass window in the center opened up, to reveal a little girl in a light blue dress at the door.