Cross My Heart

This is my entry for the love story competition! Also my first attempt at writing a romance:)

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4. A Dream

   I was sat on my bed , with dripping wet pyjamas on and my hair plastered to my head with rain. I didn't give a single care. I was the happiest girl in the world. I strolled to the bathroom and leapt into the shower. I sang at the top of my voice while I relaxed under the hot water, something I only did when I was happy.

   When I was warm and dressed, I sighed and fell back onto my bed. After mine and Jack's kiss, he stroked my cheek, whispering that he'd see me tomorrow. Then I watched him jog off down the road, the rain bouncing around him. I was still in amazement, it was magical. So many times I had imagined that happening, for it to actually happen was unbelievable.

    I spent the whole afternoon singing and dancing round my bedroom, probably looking and sounding utterly ridiculous but I didn't care. I didn't even stop when my parents arrived home. My mum opened the bedroom door and peered in, her blonde hair looking very windswept.

   "You seem happy!", she grinned, showing her pearly white teeth. I shrugged and smiled to myself, turning my CD player off. "A boy?", my mum winked. I shrugged again and she roared with laughter, then left the room humming to herself.

   That's what I like about my parents. They don't ask too many questions and understand that I may be a moody teenager at times. I got along well with my mum and dad. I was an only child, but I wasn't spoilt in any way. We didn't have much money, as my parent's shop wasn't exactly busy. It was only a little corner shop not far from here so people only came in for daily necessities. I would be given pocket money every month and I would never spend much, only save it. The only time I'd spend it was when I went out with my friends to the cinema or into town. I'd decided to save up to buy lots of paint for my room; I wanted to repaint the walls of my bedroom with something unique. They were a very boring pale yellow.

    That night while I was cuddled under my equally as boring yellow duvet, I'm sure I fell asleep with a grin on my face, not being able to wait to see Jack again.

 

 

 

   The next morning I was in a rush as usual; I had a habit of sleeping through my alarm each and every morning. I threw on my school uniform and hastily packed my school bag for the day. I thundered downstairs to grab a piece of toast from my mum, who knew only too well about my late starts and was always waiting with some form of breakfast. I rushed back upstairs and dragged a brush through my hair, not bothering to look in the mirror, while munching on my toast. I cleaned my teeth in a hurry, swung my bag on my back and ran out the front door.

    My chest heaved as I sprinted down the streets towards my school. My hair whipped across my face and I had to keep moving it out of my eyes as the strong winds pelted down. I dashed through the school gates, into the main building and down the empty corridors. A second after I had reached my form room for registration the bell sounded, signalling the start of form time. I collapsed into my chair and lay my head on the desk.

   "Just on time, as usual", Laura laughed from the seat next to me. I looked up and gasped to see that she had dyed her chocolate brown hair to a bleach blonde. I'd always loved Laura's glossy brown hair so to see it so different came as a shock. "Yeah, I wanted a change, it seems that a lot of boys like girls with blonde hair". With these words I swear I saw her eyes glare at me for just a second, then return to their normal, happy state.

   She shouldn't have to change to get a boy to like her, I thought as we parted ways to our first lessons. I was sure many boys liked her anyway. Why did she glare at me? Was it jealousy of me and Jack being together? The colour of my hair surely didn't affect the way Jack felt for me and definitely doesn't affect the chances of getting a boyfriend. Laura still looked pretty as always but I couldn't help preferring her natural hair.

    My first lesson was Art, one of the few lessons I had with Jack. This thought made me walk a bit faster and in quicker time than normal I had entered the classroom. I smiled as I saw Jack was sitting in the spare seat next to me and he smiled back. My heart started to beat faster as I walked over and sat down. I noticed he had a purple bruise across his cheek and it looked very painful.

   "Hey what happened?", I said concerned.

   "Nothing, just a play fight with my little brother that got out of hand", he assured me with a grin.

   I got out my Art book and I had what seemed to be the best lesson ever. We were meant to be drawing this withered plant our Art teacher, Miss Simmons, had stuck on our table but we ended up chatting the whole lesson, vaguely drawing some lines in our books every now and then. I discovered that Jack had the same music taste as me and even the same book taste. Jack was very chatty and I loved to listen to him; he was so enthusiastic when he talked. I loved how he made me laugh and how he somehow made me want to spend the whole day just listening to him.

   As the lesson went on, my confidence grew and I began to babble on to Jack about anything, everything and he would listen contently. Sometimes however, I would find it hard to concentrate when Jack looked into my eyes with his beautiful own.

    "I was wondering", Jack said nervously as we packed up,"Would you want to hang out tomorrow, maybe I could come over yours? I've really enjoyed spending time with you". I was a little surprised that he'd asked to come over already but I didn't particularly mind. I told him that I would ask my parents when I got home and his face lit up, but I saw a hint of relief wash over his face. Maybe he was scared I'd say no.

   "See you later!", Jack called as we got seperated in the busy corridor outside the classroom. I worked out that the next time I'd see him was lunch time, then French last lesson. We'd been so caught up in talking earlier I forgot to ask him how his bruise was. It didn't look like something a younger brother could do, it looked like it hurt a lot. I chucked this thought aside and pondered instead about him coming over. Were we moving too fast? I didn't expect for him to come over or me go over his for a while yet. What did I know about relationships anyway, he was my first boyfriend! We would have time to have a proper chat on our own anyway if he was allowed over. I just hoped my parents wouldn't embarrass me.

   

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