The blaring sound of Katy Perry woke me from my peaceful sleep. Ugh, who the heck invented alarm clocks? Why did they want to be woken up in the mornings? I blame school, if it wasn't for that then Id still be asleep by now dreaming about unicorns and waffles skipping over rainbows hand in hand...
"Indigo?" A tiny voice whispered from behind my bedroom door as it slowly creaked open "You awake?"
I looked up from behind my quilt to see my 5 year old sister Layla tiptoeing to my bedside, her fluffy pink teddy Mr Pinky being towed behind her.
I'd hate to be that teddy. Layla drags it everywhere! Once she even took it to the farm when we went on a day out and dropped in in some cow pat but she still snuggles up to it every night. Yuck.
"Layla, why are you wearing your tutu at 6:30am?"
A thick ring of sparkly pink mesh ran around Layla's tiny waist and flared out like a tutu a ballet dancer would wear.
Layla gave me that look that says "I have my reasons but they are reasons that you won't understand because your not a five year old."
"Because I'm the tutu superhero! What about if somebody needs my help, I won't be able to change from my jim jams to my super tutu in a second will I?" Her tiny eyebrows furrowed together as she explained, "Aren't you supposed to be smart?" And with that she disappeared out of my room and down the hall.
Savouring my last moment in bed I reluctantly swung my legs off the side of my bed and collapsed onto the floor like I'd just had a seizure. Gripping onto the dressing table I pulled myself up and caught sight of something horrific in the mirror. Me.
God, I looked awful! My messy bun had slipped down to my right ear and I must have forgotten to take my makeup off last night because I had dark circles all the way around my eyes and smeared to my temples.
Opening my curtains I admired the view. The hot summer sun reflected off of the turquoise pool that sat in our garden as birds dipped through the trees at the back of the garden that led into a small, secluded woodlands. Tearing my eyes away I glanced at the digital clock that sat on my bedside table.
Ugh 6:40, I need to start getting ready...
"Layla! Get off of my shoes!"
"No!" She yelled stubbornly, "My barbie doll is using it as a boat! Let gooooo!"
After a good 10 minutes of tug-o-war Layla finally gave in and handed me back my black converse shoe. Well actually, she didn't 'hand' it back to me, she was more 'forced to give it back to me as I threatened that Mr Pinkie might have to go on a trip to the Teddy Bear Slaughter House. Obviously she didn't know what that meant but she could tell by the look on my face and my menacing laugh thatMr Pinkie wasn't going to get fed ice cream and go on a pony ride.
Grabbing my River Island hoodie from the closet and my bag from beside the door I hurriedly kissed my mom on the cheek and dashed out of the front door. Clambering into my Volvo I switched on the radio to my favourite song by The Vamps, Last Night and set the engine to life. I know what your thinking. How can a 18 year old high school girl afford a Volvo? Well luckily for me I just happen to have a fairly loaded uncle that lives in the UK and makes up for not seeing me by giving me money. Mwahaha!
A soft, perfumed smell hit me like a ton of bricks and so did a petite body as I approached my locker. I already knew who it was without even looking.
YOU ARE READING
Falling For The Bad BoyTeen Fiction
"You can deny liking me. you can deny wanting me. But sweetie, you and I both know your lying." Meet Indigo Wilson, your average high school girl. Her favourite things to do include reading, studying and trying not to get in people's way. Meet...