Mason Bell was such a cliche. His gray denim pants worn thin at the knees and his classic black t-shirt that hugged his body just enough just screamed teenage angst. Mixed with the smell of smoke that followed him, both cigarette and wood, with a hint of dusty books, it was as if he were asking for people to write about him. He unwittingly dared people to fall in love with him.
It's funny because I never see him with any girls, and he could probably have every girl in this school, including me, if I can be honest. Who wouldn't love all that shaggy dark hair and long-lashed brown eyes? I used to wonder if he was gay, but I never see him with any boys either. I never see him with anyone.
The only reason I bring up Mason Bell is because I have been indirectly watching him for the last two years of high school. By indirectly watching, I mean I'd notice him in passing. I'd be walking down the hall with my group of friends and we'd pass him, and I'd take note of what he was wearing, his facial expression, how he wore his hair that day. Nothing really every changed throughout the years. His face was always placid and the only monumental change I had ever seen was when he decided to wear a white shirt instead of a black one. I almost didn't recognize him. Although I have never as so much made eye contact with Mason, I've always felt a draw to him. Call me crazy, but I swear it's there, even if it is only one-sided. I'm sure many girls feel a draw to Mason though.
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Everyday when I come home from school, I know exactly what I am going to see. I walk in the door at 3:07 p.m. My 7-year-old sister, Leia, is running down the stairs to greet me as soon as the door opens. She's at this stage in her life where she wants to do everything that I do. When I poke my head into the kitchen to say hi to my mom, I know she will be seated on the third stool from the left, typing away at her laptop. I know my dad will be sitting in the middle of the couch watching television. I'll say hi and he'll nod. I'll go up stairs, Leia trailing me. I'll walk past Jackson's, my 14-year-old brother's, door and I won't knock and say hi, but I will hear music seeping from underneath his door. When I get to my room, I'll have to practically shove Leia out just to shut my door and be alone. I'll do homework, eat dinner, text my friends, take a shower, and go to bed. This is what happens every. single. day. Nothing ever happens out of the ordinary, except maybe my brother coming down to dinner 20 minutes late instead of the usual 10. My life is so predictable that it's frustrating. I, Kristen Miller, am boring.
Ashley has been my best friend since fourth grade, and I can even predict how my conversations with her will go, but that night when I tell her about how boring I am, she says what I least expect her to say.
Ashley: You need a boyfriend or something.
Kristen: WHAT?
Ashley: Yeah, there's nothing like a boy to make someone miserable :)
Kristen: I didn't say I wanted misery, I just want something to shake my life up a little...
Ashley: "shake up my life" and "boys that make you miserable" are almost synonymous!
Kristen: Is it possible to meet a boy who can do the shaking without misery?
Ashley: ;)
Kristen: you know what I mean!
Despite Ashley's unclean mind, she might actually be onto something.
I'm seventeen and have never had a boyfriend, so that may be exactly the thing I need.
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A/N: Thanks for reading! This story is not going to be like all the other teen romance stories you've read, I can guarantee it. I just have to start off in kind of a mainstream way. Tell me how you like it so far. <3
ČTEŠ
Shaken
TeenfikceHe was the type of boy who sat alone on roofs and smoked cigarettes. He drove his car around at 5 a.m. on a school day just because he could. He was dangerous. Not the type of dangerous involving guns and knives, but the type where you knew if you...
