In love with a Jerk

Inlove with a Jerk - Chapter 1

Inlove with a Jerk.

Hiya. So I wrote this story a long ass time ago, so it may be a little stupid, or have some stupid details to it. I don't know LOL. I haven't read it in a while so I forget what happens :p

I wrote this in the sixth grade, so my writing may be...different. Idk.Just giving you a head's up :p But hope you like it!

enjoy ! :)

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Chapter 1.

"Aren't you going to eat your breakfast?" my aunt asked as she saw me push my bowl of cereal away.

After my parents died, me and my brother have to live with my aunt Krissy. It's all good, because she's only 26, and she's young and fun. She even wants us to just refer to her as just Krissy.

I sighed. "Uh...I'm not hungry."

"Oh, come on, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" She sang as she picked up my bowl.

I nodded. "I know, i'll eat breakfast tomorrow." I got out of my chair, and Krissy grabbed my arm.

"Chris," she said, looking into my eyes. "I know you're nervous, but hey, look at the bright side. It's everyone's first day-"

"But they all know each other. They all went to the same school since they were like, ten."

After the accident, my brother and i moved to a Canadian city called Kingston, from New York. Yes, we now live in Canada...

I picked up my backpack from the corner, and smiled at my aunt.

"You'll be fine," she assured me. "At least you all have to wear uniforms...and nobody can make fun of how you dress, right?"

"I guess...." I said, looking down at my uniform. It was burgundy and white, and at least the set of uniforms I got were decent. Plaid skort, white button up shirts, sweatshirts, knee high socks...those were the kind of stuff the girls wore at the school I went to.

The shower turned off from upstairs, and I ran up to my room to brush my hair and what not.

Right when I reached the top of the stairs, the bathroom door opened, and my brother, Daman, walked out with a white towel wrapped around his waist. His hair was wet, and completely in his eyes.

"Good morning," he greeted in a fake British accent.

"Hey Daman," I said as I went into my room.

When my brother went to his room, I closed the door, and looked for my brush. I found it on my dresser, and went to my mirror to brush my long hair.

I decided to just leave it how it is, no curling or straightening it. I even ran my fingers through it a couple times to spoof it up a little.

When I was done with my hair, I applied a little bit of eyeliner and mascara. I don't mean to sound self-conceited, but my eyes were quite amazing. I swear, that's the only feature I have that is nice. My eyes are light gold. Daman has the same eyes as me, and that's how people at my old school knew we were related.

When I finished doing myself up, I looked at my reflection for a few seconds.

Yeah, I'll do, I thought to myself.

A knock on the door startled me, and Daman opened the door, with his uniform on and everything. All he was wearing were black dress pants and a sweatshirt from the uniform set for boys. His hair was still a little wet, and when he saw me with my makeup on, he smiled.