A/N: Hiii everyone! I know, I know. I haven't been posting chapters quickly enough, but trust me, I have been writing a lot. I'm trying to write a bunch of chapters right now because I know I won't have enough time to write when school starts back up again. Thank you for waiting patiently! Enjoy(:
Cheyanne’s POV
December 21- Hands and Lips Mural
Chace left around midnight last night or in other words, today. Today’s event is the Hands and Lips Mural which is taken place at my family restaurant. My parents were the one who actually came up with this idea at the restaurant and it’s placed as a special event for everyone in the town.
The mural will contain male hands and female lips, hence the name. When you walk into the restaurant, there’s this huge rectangle canvas where everyone stops and does their thing, if they choose to of course. We have a section to the side where there is black paint for the males to put their hand in and put it on the canvas. Next to the paint is a collection of colorful lipsticks for females to put on if they haven’t already done so. All the females will then kiss the canvas wherever there is space. It’s an interesting and fun way for people to come together and make a unique art piece. The male’s hands are a symbol for their bravery, strength, and the lead of protection. The female’s lips are a symbol of nurture, love, and care.
“Chey, what am I going to wear?” Hannah and I have been talking on the phone for the past hour deciding on our outfits. She’s on speaker while I debate if I want to go casual but dressy or straight out formal.
“I think you’ve said that countless times before Han.” I huff in annoyance and look through my sweaters. I can’t believe I have so many. I need to clean my closet out because I’m pretty sure I have outgrown more than half of these clothes. “Are you going to wear something casual or formal?”
“I think I’m going to wear a skirt with a simple shirt and maybe a coat on top.” I hear her make a racket and throwing things around.
“And I’m going to look like a hobo if I don’t get ready this second.” I look at myself in the mirror. My gray hoodie is oversized, hiding my frame. I have fading cuts from shaving my legs and a bruise on my thigh from hitting it on the bathroom door this morning. My hair is tangled and I have smeared mascara on my face from last night since I didn’t remove it before going to bed. I am a complete bum. Just look at me once, even if it’s a in the corner of your eyes glance sort of thing, you’ll be upchucking the most recent meal you have eaten.
“I’m going to do my hair. I’ll see you later?”
“Han! You didn’t even help me!” I grab my phone from my bed and wait desperately for an answer.
“You didn’t help me either, so don’t complain missy!” Oh how I love our friendship.
“Fine, see you later meanie.” Hannah and I have a good laugh before ending the call. Right when I was about to return to my closet, I get another call. Who must it be?
“What now Torrence?” I put him on speaker and head to my cluttered closet once again.
“What are we suppose to wear?” He asks.
“Something presentable. None of that black shirt of yours.” I try not to stifle a laugh. He loves those shirts. I’m not complaining, he looks attractive as hell, but a change would be good.
“Are you implying something deeply unkind cuddle muffin?” I can tell by his tone that he’s playing around.
“Maybe.”
YOU ARE READING
Without the Love
Teen Fiction"The whole 'I hate myself' is an understatement. I wholeheartedly know that I do, but when you're surrounded by the people who believe in you and see your potential, you ought to feel like they're angels directing you somewhere out of your hellhole...
