Chapitre 1: Attraction
Buzz Buzz
I roll over to face my alarm clock. Great. Another Monday morning. I hate Monday's. Why? "Doesn't everyone ate Monday's?" You ask. But hear me out, Monday's are assembly days. An hour wasted sitting in a gymnasium or auditorium listening to teachers talk about boring excrement that no one pays attention too anyways. One of the perks of my life.
Want to know another?
Knock knock!
"Alyssa!", my mother screams to make her presence known. The knock wouldn't do, so she drown out my eardrums screaming my name too. Speak of the devil and she shall appear, my very wish. Not really.
We don't have the best relationship. We fight. I know, I know all families fight, but we're not a family. My dad left me to fend for myself when he moved to London. He would only leave me if he knew I would be safe, and since he knew mom stopped being abusive—since I'm practically stronger than her- he jumped on the first plane out of here. The woman is always complaining about something or rather, usually to do with me. Ever since her younger brother died of cancer five years ago, she's become a drunk, a ghost of the woman my father once fell in love with, and to think I used to look up to her.
I'm a senior in high school. No, I'm not in any way popular, although most people at school question why. I don't like being around people, I'm an only child and have very poor social skills. I'm a loner with the exception of my friend, Dylan. We only became close a few months ago. We met after a big match of mine. Ever since then we started training together, hanging it and going to the movies and other teenage friendship stuff. Dylan and his little group are the only other street fighters at school.
To explain me, you would need a scientist, a well trained psychologist, and some medical equipment. But in case you don't have those three things on you, I'll make it short and kinda sweet. I'm sarcastic and very short tempered. Plain and simple, that's me! You want more details, you say? Fine! I'll just write it down on my police file.
I own a set of dark green eyes that have been placed on the front of my head, can you believe it? I have boring dark brown hair that flows messily down to my waist. I work two, more or less jobs, you can say. I am very talented at defending myself, so I started out street fighting four months ago. I needed cash, so don't judge me. I also work as a waitress in a little cafe in town. My mom and I live in a tiny, two-bedroom crappy apartment in a very small town called Windsburg. We may live together, but not by choice. I pay my half of rent and bills, and she pays hers.
Knock knock knock!
Ugh. I wonder what she wants this time. I ignore her and pull out the drawers of my dresser. I pick out my clothes thinking about how I should display my awesomeness today. I take out a thin, sleeveless grey cardigan, I pull out another drawer and take out a purple tank top and a pair of black shorts. All the while, knocking is consistent.
After dressing, I pull on my black biker boots and gloves. I only wear the gloves when I'm not wearing long sleeves to cover the faint pink and light brown scars that adorned my wrists. A couple of years ago, my home life was really bad and I cracked a few times, not being able to handle it. I quickly grabbed my keys, purse and book-bag and headed for the door. Stopping, I prepare myself..one...two..three..open. SLAP! I expected it but I didn't see it. The sound of her palm connecting with my cheek ringing in my ear. I could feel the distinguished imprint of her hand tingling on my cheek.
Of course my eyes were shut tightly, but snapped open once her hand made contact with my face. I don't look at her as I shoved my way down through the hallway, locking my door to make sure she doesn't touch my stuff. I then continue to walk to the kitchen while she screams and yells about respect and how I'm the worst child ever. I grab an apple and fill my water bottle up, in my own little world. Leaving the house, I make my way to my best up, light blue Volkswagen bug and drive to school, thinking of all the beautiful things that are in this world. I may not see them right now, but one day I will.
I enter the school building as normal and head straight for my locker. I spot Dylan and his buddies down the hall walking towards me. I haven't officially met the rest of them but I've managed to watch a few of their fights, and trust me they're good. Of course these boys just happen to be total hotties and the bad boys of the school, or so I've heard. Going about my business, and taking out my text books for my first few lessons, I close my locker and turn to come face to face with Dylan, the others stopped at the locker down the hall.
"Hey," I said with a smile and wrap an arm around him in a half hug. "And how's my little street fighter today?" He coos at me like a five year old. "Fantastic! Never been better! " I snarkily reply, sarcasm lacing my every word. "Good to hear. So anyway, since you're in such a great mood already, I was wanting to finally introduce you to the guys today. Maybe you'll even fancy one of them." Ignoring my sarcasm, as usual. I know he knows I'm being sarcastic, partly because that's a huge part of my everyday attitude, but he ignores it anyway. All that sarcasm was wasted because he didn't want to hear it. Such a shame!
"Sure." I don't really care that much but I know he really wants to show me off. I'm like his little sister and he's really proud of me. Dylan found out about the history of my family when I had one too many drinks after a fight. Anyway, Dylan smiled and practically slipped off towards the guys. After talking for a minute, he returned watching as the others slowly made their way to us laughing and talking. In front of me now stood, Dylan and five others. "A, this is Lucas," Dylan said gesturing to a tall, lean figure with hazel eyes and dark blonde, shaggy hair. The corners of his lips twitching up into a smile.
"Jackson and Jason are the twins." I so, totally called that. As twins they had a very similar appearance; tall, very muscular, black hair, green eyes and tan skin. Okay, to sum it up, they're all bloody tall. Well, I suppose it doesn't help that I'm probably 5'5 and my guess is they're all over 6 feet. "And this is Ash." As my attention turns to him, I feel y eyes instantly widen. He was...he was attractive. That's something new, coming from me. I've seen tons of good looking guys, but never have I had an instant attraction to one. An attraction that I can't explain.
I see his eyes roll up and down me as he took in my appearance. I took that as my chance to study him. He had dark brown hair that made him kinda look like Chase Crawford. He had baby blue eyes that I could imagine on a cute little husky. He was tall, of course, like the others. Muscular to the point where I could see his biceps through his black t-shirt. High cheek bones, strong jawline. Prominent smile planted perfectly with the sweetest laugh lines.
When I stop on his eyes again, I could see the humor in his features. How his left eyebrow quirked up a little, how his small smile widened and how laughter danced his eyes. I can tell he didn't want to laugh at me for checking him out because that's exactly what he was doing to me a few minutes ago. As I look him in the eyes, it only felt like a second, but was most likely a few minutes until someone clears their throat interrupting us.
"Would you like us to leave you two alone?" I recognize it as Dylan's voice tinted in amusement and smugness. I can't help the light blush that rose on my cheeks when 'what kind of question is that?! Of course I do' runs through my mind. And the next words out of the Greek Gods mouths stopped my heart, for a second. "That would be nice, but a little selfish don't you think? We can take our business elsewhere." With that, he places his hand on the small of my back ushering me out the building.
I've never felt so shocked at words before.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone