{Highest Rank: #21 in Teen Fiction, #1 in Comedy, and #10 in HighSchool}
THE LAST 20 CHAPTERS HAVE BEEN REMOVED! THIS IS JUST A SAMPLE AND THIS BOOK IS PUBLISHED BY TYPEWRITER PUB! THE BOOK CAN BE READ ON GOODREADS, AMAZON, etc.
❝She spent her life...
"And I know exactly people like the second type. They play tough, but they're not," I continue. "You are not that person, Angel. You're tough."
"Damn, I really needed that pep talk. Okay, I'm blocking him." She took out her phone and opened contacts. I stared as she finds her name. She takes a deep breath. Her finger hovers over the button.
I know what some might be thinking. Just do it already! What's so hard about it?! We all have different problems. And for Angel, this is a big thing in life. The choice to move on and forget. The choice to finally stop chasing and deal with it. And that could be hard.
Don't judge when you have no right to.
"I did it! Goodbye douchebag!" she half-shouted. I whooped and cheered a bit with her. She laughed and put her phone back down. She picked up the tattoo needle again and kept on drawing.
She kept making the tattoo and is finished in a few hours. And damn, it looked amazing. The pain was excruciating, but everything is worth it.
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I want to someday stop hiding. To show the world just how rotten this good girl is. To show them that nothing is ever that good and is true.
If it is too good to be true, it probably is.
But until then, I will hide myself behind a fake and plastered smile. Keep my head low and my shoulders hunched.
But my tattoos will always remind me of what I am. Of the fiery phoenix waiting to burst inside me.
And of the demon that is trying to fit in. A demon in a world full of angels. Someone that has to fit in, or she would be swallowed alive.
Someday, I will live as Jesse Marks. And I can barely wait until someday comes.
:
I come to school the next day, bags under my eyes but giddyness in my bones. The tattoo is on my back and I feel invincible.
I bump into someone because of my idiocy and blindness. My backpack drops to the ground and I mutter incoherent curses as I pick it up.
"We should stop meeting like this." I stare up into beautiful blue eyes.
"Yeah. I totally agree. Or maybe we should just stop meeting each other altogether. I'm cool with that too," I say calmly. Arc looks at me in amusement before bursting out laughing.
"Oh please. You would probably cry if you actually stopped seeing me. Come to my funeral, love?" he asked teasingly. "I'll even bring you a box of tissues."
I didn't react at the nickname. Nope. Not at all.
"If you die, I'll be the one standing over your body with a bloody knife," I say with a smirk. He laughs.
"I like you. You're like a spitfire. Fiesty," he says, winking. My mind instantly goes to the phoenix tattoo. My hand rubs the spot absentmindedly for awhile.
"Thanks, I guess?" I say. I walk away without another word to my locker. Lucas is leaning on it, deep in thought.
He looks casual enough. A gray shirt and black jeans. A black leather jacket and sneakers.
What is with bad boys and black? The only reason I like it so much is that it helps me blend with the shadows whenever I sneak out.
"Hi," Lucas suddenly says. His eyes brighten and a grin overtakes his features. I give him a grin of my own.
"Hey," I say. I shoved him off my locker and grabbed the books I needed for the next lesson.
"Is Arc still bothering you?" Lucas suddenly asked. I turn to him with an eyebrow raised.
"Arc isn't bothering me in the first place. Why?" I ask, suspicious. He shrugs, but still seems a bit disturbed.
"I don't like him," he says curtly. I roll my eyes. I barely know Arc but he seems nice, apart from the fact that he is a manwhore.
"You don't know him, Johnson," I say. He looks at me, a bit of anger showing in his eyes.
He slams the locker and puts both arms around my head. I inch backwards and hit the locker. I wince a bit, the skin still a bit sore.
Lucas's eyes are dark. He looks dangerous. But I don't plan on any boy to intimidate me. So I cross my arms over my chest and stare at him defiantly.
"Arc is only going to hurt you. So stay away from him," he says. His voice is low and serious. I pretend not to notice what he just said.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," I say. He growls and slams at the locker beside me. I jump and wince a bit.
"I'm serious, Jesse. He isn't someone you want to mess around with," he says. "Just don't go looking for trouble and stay away from him."
I smirk, staring right into his eyes. Mine probably held something very mischievous in them.
"Trouble is my middle name."
: A/N Hey guys!
Sorry this one took awhile. I had a bit of writer's block, and getting my ideas out were hard. It isn't so much as the idea as it is the right words to describe that idea.
Please comment and vote if you liked it! Tell me what you think! I am not psychic (I wish I am) so please tell me what's on your mind!
