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“Come back here, young lady!” Dad shouts. He’s always like that. I've been telling him that I'm no lady. I'm a tomboy. I don’t get why he's always going on about me turning out like Mom. I know he's protective of me but I'm 18 now. I can look after myself.
Mom ran off with a rich, ugly(ish) millionaire when I was 6 years old. She sends emails of pics on Christmases and birthdays. She's always on some yacht or going out to charity balls. She's kind of vain. Mom thinks the world revolves around her. Dad's always cursing her. He says she's a gold digger. True… She's a gold digger but he's just saying that because he's jealous. Maybe he should find a rich female billionaire and rub it in her face. That would be funny. Anyway, I don’t want to be a gold digger if a rich man is old and ugly. Ew. Rich and sexy maybe…
I’m Amelie. My birthday is in three weeks, but I like to think I’m 18 anyway. I walk down the street on my way to football training. Our next door neighbour Mr Zeepler waves hello to me and winks. He's always flirting with me. Maybe he's trying to appear less boring - he's a banker. I just blank him. I used to think he was okay and harmless, but he's seriously creepy.
There was one time where I was at a farmer’s market and buying cupcakes (gooey peanut butter and toffee) when someone patted my shoulder. Mr Zeepler stood grinning and offered to pay.
“Er, why, Mr Zeepler?”
“That’s what gentlemen do, Miss Amelie.”
“You're no gentleman.”
Mr Zeepler just chuckles. You probably think Mr Z is ugly and has a bald head, but he's good-looking for a twenty-six year old married creep. Still a creep.
“Look, you going to pay or not?” a snappy old woman with grey hair (looks like she's been electrocuted) snarls. Take anger management, woman. Learn customer service.
I roll my eyes. Mr Zeepler took out his wallet and makes a big show of taking out crisp notes. Why so splashy with the cash?
“Cupcakes for a cupcake,” he has a big dopey grin on his face.
I snatch the box away from him.
“Thanks,” I try to go but he grabs my arm. He's a leech.
“Manners, Amelie,” Mr Z's enjoying having power over me.
“I said thanks,” I'm tempted to tread down on his shiny leather shoes.
“Improve your attitude,” he whispers close to my ear.
He's like a snake.
I thrust the box back at him. “Take your cupcakes back then.”
Mr Zeepler just looks at me, startled for a moment. Then a slow, sly grin appears on his face.
“You’re a pretty face with a dog’s bark.”
See what I mean by creepy? I shiver. Blonde, beautiful but ditzy Mrs Zeepler is walking toward us - she grins at her creepy husband and wraps her arms around his neck. She kisses his neck and whispers something in his ear. Mr Z jumps and I grin. What a loser.
“Did I surprise you, honeybun?”
Will make a note of that name to use on him in future torture session.
He pats her hand and does a fake laugh. “No, no, Patrice…”
She notices me for the first time and smiles.
“Hello, Amelie! How’s your dad?”
We make small talk. Then chat about all the food around the market. She recommends stalls and gives me some yummy to die for chocolate brownies. I’m telling you, if a brownie was a boy…
Mrs Z’s nice compared to her creepy husband. Mr Z has a fake smile on his face, but his eyes are perving on me. I'm relieved when Dad calls out to me from his car.
“Don’t forget your cupcakes, Amelie,” Mr Z smirks, holding the box out to me.
“I’m on a diet,” I retort.
“You have an enviable figure, sweetie,” Mrs Z looks seriously worried, thinking I have an eating disorder.
Oh no. She'll probably tell my dad. Sh!t.
Story of my life…
“Late again, Amelie,” my friends Marie and Gina shout out as soon as I step inside the changing room.
“What? It's my dad. He treats me like a prisoner!”
Marie's trying to keep her smile in.
“If I had a dad like yours, I would go crazy.”
“You're halfway there, M,” Gina grins.
They start to argue and I leave them to it. I’m late, so I try to put my football kit on as fast as possible without breaking my bones.
“You hear about the new hottie, Amelie?” Gina unwraps some bubblegum.
“Apparently he’s smokin’”
“She means Coach Bletchmann’s replacement,” Marie walks out of the changing room.
Coach Bletchmann was a tiny old guy, who'd been working as a coach of the football club since time began. I always expected that Coach Bletchmann would be replaced by Coach Bletchmann 2.
This is a surprise to me…
A/N: Please VOTE, COMMENT and SHARE! - or else my sister laugh at me xD You like or hate? First time write romance. It hard writing from girl pov xD. Leave feedback. Dmitri.
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Scored in Love (Wattys2015)Teen Fiction
CBY BOTW WINNER Feb 2015! What goes on inside our deepest fantasies can often scare us if we look too closely. Amelie is going to find out the hard way that appearances can be deceptive... Add my story to public reading list. Share with friends/fol...