Prologue

875 Words
First. Last. It was the first day in my last year of high school which meant that next year I would no longer be here in the United States of America but in the United Kingdom. I would go abroad to study at a university in the U.K. and I couldn't be more excited.  I stretched as I got up and slowly made my way to my window. I pulled open my curtains and squinted as the sun shone in my eyes. I groaned after my eyes adjusted to the amount of light streaming through the window.  The Thatcher residence stood before me. I tried to see if I could see if Zayne's curtains were already open but as usual they were still drawn. I rolled my eyes and sniggered to myself thinking how stupid I must be to hope his routine changes.  Zayne Thatcher was the son of Cara Thatcher who never came out of her house unless she was exhausted of being cooped up in the house. Zayne was our schools bad boy and everyone loved the excitement he brought.  When Zayne didn't come to school everyone assumed he had went to a collage party the previous night and had a massive hangover but if Zayne didn't have hangovers then he was probably getting stoned at the back of a church. I didn't really believe those rumors though.  Maybe Zayne wasn't the best person to be around he could really have his own things that he needed to sort out. Although I believed this I somewhat knew that he was bad news and my father had always told me to stay away from him.  He was really good looking though. His blue eyes never seemed to fail at mesmerizing all the girls, his brown hair always looked so luscious even when he wasn't trying and his body was a sight to see. The girls in his Physical Education class said that when he takes off his shirt the girls freeze and drool and the girl scowl at him out of jealousy.  I knew his body was a sight because I would sit in my room on Sundays and look out of my window, shamelessly, to watch him mow the lawn shirtless. And the way his muscles would tense when he pushed the lawn mower was just admirable.  After I had gotten ready for school I dawdled down the stairs and found my father in the kitchen with only a pair of shorts on. I rolled my eyes.  "Morning," I said.  He looked up from his newspaper which he had been reading. "Morning, Rori," he responded.  I shook my head. "You don't have the right to call me that," I growled.  He began to chuckle as if my anger was some joke. "Aurora, you have to relax a little. Besides, you're extremely rude and I am you dad so I think I deserve a little respect." I scoffed. I didn't bother replying to him because he obviously wanted to provoke me into doing something drastic. I made myself some cereal and soon after a car horn blared from outside.  I mumbled a goodbye and rushed outside with my school bag hanging over my shoulder. Zoë, my best friend, was parked in front of my house as always. She grinned and shouted for me to get in.  "Girl, look who decided to come to school today," she said.  I looked at where her eyes lay and then I met the bad boys gaze. Zayne was staring right at me. He looked so undeniably sexy in his white V-neck t-shirt, sleek black leather jacket, brown boots and perfectly gelled hair. I tore my eyes from him and motioned for Zoë to drive.  She giggled as she drove. "He was totally checking you out, hon!"  I snorted. "That'll be the day." She groaned and rolled her eyes.  "Hm. Anyways, I have decided to stop cursing!" I looked at her with disbelief. "What? It's true! If I want to curse from now in I'll say food and drink names." I laughed and ask, "how does that even work?" She groaned and said, "well, if I want to say you f****d up real bad I'd say you chocolate brownied real bad."  By the time we got to school I was dying of laughter. Zoë always made me laugh and that's why she was my best friend. We met in middle school when one of those stereotypical 'I can do anything' girls did some weird gymnastics moves and told me I'd never be able to that. Well, Zoë walked in and told them that they looked like walking pretzels and that pretzels made people fat which made them freak out and made me almost pee my pants because I laughed so hard.  Zoë was beautiful and sometimes she didn't have the best manners but she could be charming if she desired to be. She would flip her black hair and pout her plump lips while batting her thick lashes, covering up her gorgeous brown eyes. People would try and make fun of her for being black but Zoë never let them and I liked that and that's how we joined forces. Me, the nice one, with Zoë, the mean one. 
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