Winnning Your Heart (Sequel to Love You Forever)

Avery Jones and Preston Corvette are b-a-a-a-ck!!!!!!!!!!! Things are getting awkward for the two lovebirds. They're together in the almost all the same classes, they have same lunch time and study hall. And now, Avery's having trouble with her parents, and Preston's dad has "come back from the grave". Can they work out their differences and put the past behind them to see each other through 12th grade? Read on and find out... :)

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5. Chapter 3

Preston

Valentine's Day Dance! Only $3 for you and your sweetheart! Come to the gym Feb. 14, 6:00 pm to 12:00 am and dance the night away!

The cheesy flier was shoved into my hands by Polly McPie. I quickly glanced over the pink, glittery writing and handed it back.

"I'm not going, Polly." I muttered. Ever since she met me, Polly's been all draped over me. With her stick-straightened, dyed brown hair, fake tan, blue contacts, make-up covered face and revealing clothes, she was so totally not my type.

I think you know what "my type" is.

"Aw, Presty," Polly pouted (A/N: Anyone else notice how weird that sounds?). "You're no fun!"

Well, I'd kinda rather not be when it comes to you. I thought.

"We could go together!" In my mind, I mimed puking.

"Polly... You know-"

"Oh come on, Preston! You're not still doted over (meaning in love with) that loser Avery, are you?"

I barely ever lose my temper (not even with Polly, which my buds find impressive) but this  really stung me.

"Avery is not a loser!" I snapped. Polly looked taken aback. Mostly 'cause she's never seen me mad.

I stormed off. Polly was just a fake. That's all she was.

I guess I wasn't looking where I was going because the next thing I knew, I was crashing to the ground, a petite body tripping over me and books were everywhere.

I got up, groaning and rubbing my head.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there!" A small, pale girl with big brown eyes, long black hair that hung around her waist and red glasses that complimented her full, dark lips stood up. She had on ripped jeans and a worn Montreal Penguins sweatshirt.

She was pretty, I had to admit.

She scrambled around, trying to pick up all her books.

"It's not your fault," I said as I bent down to pick up a big book that said History on it. I handed it to her and she shoved it in her backpack.

"Thanks," She murmured, blushing.

I smiled. "I'm Preston." I stuck out my hand. The girl hesitantly shook my hand.

"I'm Mia." Her voice was soft.

I opened my mouth to say something but the bell rang, cutting me off.

Only later did I realize I had nothing to say.

I was dumbstruck.

Not to mention, pretty charmed, too.

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