Kissing Kimberly

A twist on the "bad boy meets good girl" scenario.
More of a romantic comedy with a little drama thrown in.
Its now time for the bad girl, to meet the good boy.
Elijah (Eli) is a good boy who never gets into trouble, keeps his head down and does as he's told. His life it pretty basic, until he set his eyes on the new mysterious girl at school. From then on in, kissing Kimberly was the best decision he made. Or was it the worse?
Written from the boys perspective, i hope this makes a good first attempt of a story.
Enjoy :)


1. Being fifteen

Being fifteen usually means being at the peak of teen hood. Your social life is non- stop, you're juggling school work and parties, you've nearly finished high school and moving onto bigger better things. Moving to different colleges and universities, making new friends and creating new drama. Creating memories that will last you the rest of your life. 

Not me. The only things I'd be remembering from my high school days are maths sums and english reports and science formulas. I'm not really  at the top of the teenage social ladder, i spend my days at the front of the class while the back of my head is pounded with spitballs and anything that looks suitable to throw at me, break time and lunchtimes in extra curricular classes and my night times revising and visiting my Mother in the hospital. She had a stroke and lost the ability to walk, luckily its only temporary so she'll be home soon but until then my job is to ready the house for her return. My brother is in the army and my Father is working practically 24/7 to keep his mind off the fact Mum isn't well.  I'm okay with that though, I've survived the last two months, I can hang in there for the next two weeks.

Until then, school is my safe haven. Bar the people who think it's a good idea to take all their self hate out on me, its the one place I feel at home. I spend most of my time in the library, reading books and making small talk with Dianne, the librarian until the two people I can actually call my friends arrive from playing tennis. Then we just sit and talk about our pathetic lives, filled with the school projects we decided to take up and how unlucky we are with love, finally rounding off the night with the reassurance speech we give each other about how we will find love and all this hard work we're doing now will benefit us in the long run,  when in all our minds we secretly wish to be socially accepted by everyone.

Admittedly I don't really understand why I'm as unlucky as I am because in my opinion I don't look nerdy.

I have brown hair that borderlines on ginger, I don't have pasty white skin, its quite tanned. I don't have braces and my teeth are white and straight, I don't need glasses, only when I'm reading small print or using technology is the only time I use them. I'm quite muscular,  not overly done but enough to look good topless and I hit puberty about twelve but I don't have a blemished face and I shave so I do have that manly look to me.  I  never really understood how you ended up in the cliques you did.  Was it your looks or your confidence or people you knew already, or was it pure choice?  I don't remember choosing the clique I wanted to be in, nor do I remember being placed here either. I suppose it's all about luck and the balls to actually push yourself to see how high you can get yourself up the social scale. I sometimes wonder why I never tried making friends with the people up the ladder. Then it hit me. Well, the spit ball that Dan Casey spat at the back of my head in assembly hit me first, then the reason why I never tried. People like him. I bet there are nice people who are popular but because they're accompanied by people like Dan I've never really bothered to try, because I don't want to be associated with people like him,  and the fact I even tried it, Dan wouldn't let me anywhere near his group in the first place so even if I wanted to give it a shot I was stuck at the bottom for the rest of my teenage years.  

Adults say your teenage years are the best years of your life. What the hell is so fun about a post apocalyptic teenage life?  

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