new girl (1)

new girl (1)

Drew Donovan is your average all-American boy. He does good in school, is popular with the ladies, parties every weekend. High School is his domain. Until Valery Clash comes. This goth rock girl is out of his control. And it drives him crazy. He knows she's up to something, but he can't help but feels himself pulled to her. Who is she really?

published on April 28, 201558 reads 18 readers 0 not completed
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Chapter 5.

chapter 5

You know, I noticed how quick I started seeing Valery. First day of school, I kissed her on the cheek. Second day of school, I kissed her. I guess that old quote, “Love at first sight” of whatever is true. I’m just glad I met someone like her. I’ve never been in a relationship, where I’ve been serious about it. Sure, I’ve fooled around with the girls I dated, but we were never serious. Kind of like grade school kids flirting. Nothing serious. It was just a game.

But Valery Clash was no game. She was everything. I know, you’re probably thinking, ‘You’re only 17. A senior. You couldn’t possibly know anything of love. They’re just crushes.’ No, it’s not. She isn’t just a crush. I was mad about her. Every night (hell, all the time), I laid in bed, thinking about her pale skin, grey cold eyes. Long, sleek, black hair, dyed with red streaks. Even her piercing were beautiful. And the way she clicked her tongue piercing against her teeth, when she was thinking or annoyed. Her dark purple painted nails. Her full red lips. Her white pearl teeth. And when she smiled, it brightened my day. Which was rare, so each time she did, I felt like I gut punched in the gut with happiness. I don’t know. That’s weird.

I rolled on my side. Today was a Saturday and I couldn’t wait until the clock struck past 6:00 am. I shot a text to Valery about meeting at 7:00 am. I didn’t know what I was going to say to her, but I wanted her in my arms so badly. I was giddy with the thought of seeing her again. The only grim thought in my mind was her cuts.

I didn’t know what to do. I thought about asking her why, but I was afraid of her answer. Yeah, I know. I’m a wimp. Maybe I could get her help, or hell. Actually talking to her about it. Yeah, I’d do that. Or maybe I could convince her to flush her blades. I couldn’t bear the thought of her stained wrists again.

I sighed. ‘Why would she? It’s not like she has a horrible life, right? Or am I missing something?’ I shook my head. I stop thinking about it. It was such a messy matter, and when I can’t find a way to figure out the answer, I dropped it. I’ll pick it back up later.

My alarm screamed in my ear, and for once in my life time I was happy about it. I threw on my shoes and grabbed my car keys off my drawer. Time to roll.

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