Nevaeh
"Are you okay?" Carter asks from behind me. The halls are nicely neat, due to our low population.
"Yeah," I half-lie, I am not okay. "I just had a weird dream." I walk calmly, pushing the front doors open, and look for my bus: Bus #7.
"You want to talk about it?" She stumbles to catch up with me. I stop in my tracks.
"No." As much as I want to, I can't. I tell Carter everything. But just not this. I can't just say: "Oh, I had a wet dream about this 20 year old who I just met this morning. His name is Niall Horan, and extremely attractive. But he's not my type. Funny, right?"
I couldn't do that.
"Oh okay." She mumbled. "Maybe you could hang out after school tomorrow? My mom is making homemade pizza rolls." She asked. Now there's something interesting.
"Sure, I just gotta ask my momma!" I said cheerfully, pizza rolls are like pizza... But bite sized. I like pizza. As we climbed up the bus, we found an open two-seater, and sat.
"Oh, I've been meaning to ask you," she laughed slightly, "why do you call your mother 'momma' instead of 'mom'?"
I turned my head to answer, it was a good question to begin with. "I dunno," I chuckled, "never really thought of that. I just do, I guess." I wondered if everyone who spoke to me, thought of that. Does it annoy them?
As soon as the bus stopped in front of the Motel, I quickly hopped of it and ran straight inside. Momma was napping, laying her head on her crossed arms that rested on the desk.
"Afternoon, Mother." I said, sarcastically cheerful.
"Huh?" she snorted, picking her head up.
"4:30." I laughed, watching her as she wiped the drool off the side of her cheek.
"Oh, yeah." She couldn't help but let out a snicker. I jumped upon the counter of the front desk, swaying my legs side to side, freely.
"So where is that guy, Niall Horan?" I sounded tauntingly, but I'm just curious. Momma stretched out her limbs, letting out a large yawn.
"I sent him to pick up some groceries at the market about an hour ago." She exhaled. I nodded in disapproval. I'm still unhappy about Momma's new hiring. "Should be back in a short time." She checked her watch.
"He probably got jumped by uncle Bill's kids." I drew ridiculous conclusions. Uncle Bill's kids are about my age. The three of them are all unpleasing; nothing but a bunch of bullies, they are. "The guy provokes me. Not a doubt he would provoke them."
"Nevaeh, don't say such things!" Momma snapped at me. "Stop your judgin' on Mr. Horan." She hates it when I'm hateful.
"Alright, alright." I raise my hands up in surrender. I stretch out towards her, and plant a kiss on her forehead before hopping off the counter. I take a step outside, the sun beats down on me; blinding me almost. I race up the large pile of stairs before reaching the designated floor. My room is 5F. Or, floor 5, room F. But I call it 5F.
I unlock the door with the key that is chained around my neck, swinging the door open. The air embraces me. The familiar smell lingers under my nose. I love that smell. The smell of home. It's a pleasant smell to be greeted by from a long day away.
I carelessly drop my backpack onto the ground, as I excitedly walk to my study nook. A part of my room specially made by me. The nook contains a wide variety of exciting series like Harry Potter, and crappy novels like Twilight. **sorry if you're a fan of twilight, but we all have our opinions**
All my books that a favorite are sorted by author on a large bookshelf that stretches from floor to ceiling. All the books that I happily approve rest there. Any other book that displeases me, is specially placed in the trashcan under my desk. The first novel of the Twilight Saga should've been the first to go, but I've put it to a good use. I've hollowed it out, and placed my dirty little secret in there.
My dirty little addiction.
I can't seem to live another day without a cigarette between my teeth. That's why keep it locked up in a shitty novel; hiding it away from anybody to find. I'm ashamed of it. But I've got my addiction under control. It's not like I smoke a pack a day.
I open the man-made box, taking the pack of cigarettes out. I have only 4 left before the pack is completely empty. I slide one out of the box, and in between my lips. I light it. The comforting smell of the burning tobacco fills the room. As much as I want to let it linger, I can't. If Momma comes in here, she'll instantly know that I'm smoking.
I open a window.
My cigarette will last only a few minutes. I tap the cigarettes ashes onto the insides of the hollowed out book, permanently damaging the inside of the hardback cover. To pass the time, I get cracking on a new book I bought online last week. It came in the mail yesterday. It's called Th1rteen R3asons Why. The reviews on Amazon.com said it would be very exciting. I'll be the judge of that.
The cigarette had run down, making me feel less comforting. It's like having a friend vanish. I smash the bud into the cover and disposing it in the trash. I place the Twilight book back where it belongs on the shelf, making sure all the evidence is disposed off. I open the book to the first page and begin to read.
"You know," an thick voice startles me, causing me to jump out of my chair, "you shouldn't leave your door unlocked. Weirdos could easily enter."
I turn quickly, facing the intruder. Niall. "Have you ever heard of knocking?" I spat.
"Yes actually. Have you ever heard of locks?" He smiled.
"Whatever." I groan. "What do you want? I have some reading to do."
He makes his way to my bed freely, sitting himself down. "Just came to make peace." He grinned, reaching for something in his pocket.
"Peace?" I growled. "You fucked that up when you got here. Now may I show you to the door?"
His hand extended out towards me. It held a fresh pack of Marlboro Cigarettes. My fingers twitched a bit. "You smoke, right?" His eyes beamed up at mine. He knows?
"Have you been snooping in my room?" I gasp, crossing my arms.
"No." He chuckled slightly, tossing the untouched pack of cigarettes besides him on the bed.
"Then how do you know?" I weaken. He could be a stalker. How could he possibly know this? He has to be a stalker.
"This morning, you reeked of it." He said.
"Bullshit, I perfume my clothes like almost everyday." I protest. He has to be bullshitting me.
"Didn't seem like it." He said blankly, collapsing onto my bed. He's now fully laying on it.
"Oh so you have a 'super-sniffer' eh? Like from Scooby-doo?" I complain sarcastically.
"No, I wouldn't describe myself as Scooby-doo." He couldn't help but exhale a half-laugh. I am aware that I'm being completely ridiculous. But this random-ass guy who I just met this morning, can't just barge in here willy-nilly! "If I had to describe myself as a fictional character, I'd be Sherlock Holmes. What about you?" He asks calmly.
"What?" I was not necessarily confused; just didn't have any option in words to say.
"Who are you in the fictional world?" He asked kindly. I've kind of noticed that he's warm-like; friendly.
It takes me no time to figure myself out. I know who I am like. "Violet Harmon." I answer fast.
"From where?" He asks. He gets up from my bed and glances around. Studying my room without touching anything.
"My favorite television show; American Horror Story." I slightly smile. I like talking about myself, to be honest. No one actually had ever asked me a question like that.
"Why do you relate to her?" He asked again. God, he asks a lot of questions. It takes me some time to sort my words. But soon enough, I answer.
"I don't know really." I say, "I guess I have same perspective of the world as she does." I find myself sitting in the middle of my bed.
"And that is?" He sat down besides me. Half of me wants to kick him off, and the other half wants to pull him closer.
I smile at my black bed sheets, "Enough of me, what about you?" I ask.
His eyes met mine when I asked. "Huh?"
"Why do you relate to Sherlock Holmes, like you described yourself?" I tried not to seem as cute and cuddly I despise to be, but the lot of it spills out of my mouth and into my tone of voice.
"Oh, that." He chuckled. "It's all about observation."
"So?" I come out tough. "You observe things well?"
"Yeah, I suppose so." He cleared his throat. "Want me to show you a little?"
"Sure, give it a go." I answer.
He climbs of the bed and begins to walk around. Pointless really. My bedroom isn't really big. After a minute of pacing back and forth, he trudges towards my study nook. He strokes one hand of fingers over all the books on the bookshelf. He slows down as his fingers land on Twilight.
Shit.
He removes the book from the shelf.
"Do you mind if I have one?" He hands over a cheeky smile. "I don't wanna open a fresh pack without having the others already used up."
"How did yo-" I ask, but i was cut off.
"Know?" He opens the book and salvages a cigarette; sticking it between the corner of his lips. "Simple."
"Explain."
"Quite obvious really," He lights it, "You see how you have the whole set of Harry Potter, Lord Of The Rings, and Divergent? Twilight is the only one of the saga you have collected." He blows out smoke as he speaks.
I just stare at him. Waiting for him to finish is presentation.
"Plus, it has a burn on the edge of the book." He points his finger where a small burn is located. "You see?"
"Wow.." I'm astonished...
"So," tapping the ash onto the book, "what's your story? Why do you smoke?" He asks, leaning on the wall next to the nook. Raising an eyebrow, he uttered "I think it's pretty sexy when women smoke."
I'm provoked. He's 4 years older than me and he basically called me "sexy." He is pretty hot, but still; have some respect.
I walk towards him without saying a word, until we are almost touching. I'm so close that I can smell his musky cologne, along with smoke. I caress his abdomen, feeling his molded body through his thin white shirt. He wears a red plaid flannel over it. He towers over me. When I look up at him, he looks down at me with confused eyes. His hand feels the back of neck, with thumb rubs against my cheek.
Oh, if only... If only I was truly trying to seduce him.
I tug on his shirt, guiding him easily. He thinks I'm leading him to the bed. No, I'm leading him to the door.
+++++++
(A/N)-Thanksguysforreading!hopeyouenjoy!Pleasecomment/vote/follow,I'dappreciateditifyoudid!Andifyouhaveanyadviceoranysuggestionspleaseletmeknow!loveyou,peace!