Bad Boy, Good Lips

17 Year-old Kristen was a quote and quote "average" girl with phenomenal grades. She had been to Hilton High School since freshman year, and was very close to graduating. She was known as a, "goody two shoes" and always followed the rules. Until. 'he' came along. Will he change her and ruin her reputation..? Or will he just be a bad boy with good lips?


10. Ch. 8

When I awoke, the smell of febreeze and pumpkins filled my nostrils.

I turned to see a sleeping Michael on his foam mattress and a blue and black comforter sloppily thrown over top it with some white pillows, pulled in the corner of his room next to his window.

Clothes were strewn across the carpet and pictures of his mom were aligned on his desk.

His closet door lazily slung to the side and Michael was shirtless.

I realized I was laying on his bean bag chair which, was surprisingly, comfortable.

Keeping myself busy, I experimented with my hair, and tried to pull it into a tight French braid which didn't turn out so well.

After a few moments, Michael made a small groan and blinked a few times before resting his eyes on me.

I smiled awkwardly and gave a small wave.

Michael smirked and sat up in his bed, his whole chest exposed.

I admired his torso, and his tattoos.

" how'd you sleep?"

He suddenly asked, his aussie accent becoming stronger with each word.

I wiped the sweat that was built on my palms onto the blanket that was thrown overtop of me and I forced my eyes to look up.


Michael looked to the side and his hair was messy, but a sexy messy.

Finally he turned and locked eyes with me again.


Michael shrugged.

"It went well." He looked down and realized his shirt was gone and looked around frantically.

He ran his hand through his hair and grunted softly.

"where's my shirt?!"

He said with an aggravated tone and got up and threw his dirty clothes behind him.

I gave a small giggle and got up to help him.

I went to his mattress and lifted his sheets and revealed condoms and his shirt.

I stared at them artless.

It was.. weird.

Michael turned and saw my expression and laughed nervously.

"um.. j-just don't worry about that.."

He grabbed his shirt and forced it over his head.

"Come on will you?"

He asked standing in his doorframe.

I nod quickly and walk behind him.

----back at Kristen's house---

When I'm finally back home police cars and tape that say, Caution!

I looked around nervously and run up to my yard.

"Hey, Hey, Hey!" An FBI agent called, holding his hand up in front of me and gesturing towards the police tape. "No entry beyond this point.

I feel the tears ready to burst and roll down my cheeks.

"Excuse me, but I live here. Not to be a bitch or anything, but if anyone, including my own mother, is hurt or injured, I need to get inside."

The agent looks me up and down, sighs and lets me go inside my house.

As I run inside the stench of blood fills my nose.

I feel the tears run down my cheeks as I walk around my familiar home and see blood everywhere and my own mother lying right smack in the middle of it.

I collapse and fall on my knees and bawl and cry until I can't breathe.

Someone wraps their hand around my forearm and I look and try to make out who's helping me up behind my blurry eyes.

It's Michael.
I'm crying into his chest just like I did a few weeks ago.

"it's okay." he whispers. "she's in a better place now."

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...