Chapter 1: Sell his eyes on Ebay

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Hey. Hi. Hey there. Aloha. Hola. Buonjour. Ciao. Konichiwa.

So, you've clicked on my story. May lord help you.. Just kiddin'! This is my new work (obviously) called Hopeless Morons. But you already know the obvious, so I'll let you go ahead and read.

This chapter will start out a little slow, I ain't afraid to admit that. BUT, for those of you who have read my work before, you will know that good things come in time.


Chapter 1: Sell his eyes on Ebay

I could countlessly name the people in my life who told me happiness was such a simple thing to get. I guess it's pretty obvious that I think that's complete cow dung, and happiness isn't always easy to find. I mean, the stubborn thing could be on top of a mountain in freaking Germany.

I know for me it is. Now, don't skip to conclusions. I'm not one of those kids going through teen angst and thinks everything is black and dull and hates everybody.

Actually, all but one of those are falso. Like every normal human being, I hate everybody. It's just something I can't actually control.

What I was trying to say though, was that happiness seems to have a hard time finding me. Maybe it's scared of me, I don't know.

And whoever said money can't buy happiness is a little shit and obviously didn't know how to spend their money. I mean, I'd rather cry in a massive mansion in Barbados with golden tissues than cry in my constantly creaking bed with tissues that slowly rub the skin off my nose.

Just sayin'.

And I'm not depressed, if that's what you're thinking. I'm content. I guess I'm happy in the sense of I like my life. I don't love it.

And that's what's missing in my life. Literally, life; I'm missing excitement.

But thank the mighty heavens for they have finally gifted the angel, Valentino, to me.

Let me give you a background check on Valentino, a.k.a, Val. He's a Spanish rebel, basically. Senior, gorgeous, bad-ass, gorgeous, quiet and gorgeous.

Oh. And he's pretty stupid. Honestly, I'm not even kidding. He once paid Simon, a well known nerd at our school, to sit a test for him.

Yes. The moron thought he could get away with it. I had never face palmed so hard in my life.

It was amusing though, I had to admit. He ended up being suspended and served three detentions with the lovely Mr. Hubid.

Mr. Hubid was quite the burly man. He was a neck beard guy, large circle glasses and the most hilarious sounding accent I had ever heard in my life. It was like a mix of French and Southern American. Yeah, just let that sink in.

Poor Val spent an hour and a half with the man three days in a row. Everyone knew he'd eventually spaz out.

Let's just say Val left the room with three matches in his hand.

He had four when he entered.

"Danny, I swear to God if you ignore me one more time." Ah. Right. I was at school.

"Sorry." I apologized, scratching the back of my head sheepishly. My best friend, Franky, just shook his head, rolling his eyes.

"Jesus Christ woman, that's the third time today you've zoned out." He commented, slurping his OJ loudly. I shrugged, poking what looked to be meat balls in the cafeteria made spaghetti.

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