Ｈe Ｕsed Ｔo Ｂe Ｍy Ｆriend See that boy over there? Mr. Player? Yeah? Well we used to be best friends, until his father who was the closest to family he had, died. Then he changed deep inside. Something snapped. He transformed into the player as well as the school’s bad-boy. He’s that one over there- beach blonde hair tousled by the wind, tanned skin, features that the Gods could’ve created, tall, broad with arm muscle, six pack showing through the plain white vest he’s wearing under that red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up and front wide open, black denim jeans sagging to show his CK boxers and pale grey Nike Hightops with Neon green details. Yeah, now you see him. His name you ask? Chase Carlile. He may be angelic looking and innocent, but don’t go near him. You’ll end up broken hearted. Yeah, you’re right to think twice. Who am I? I’m Skye Sanchez, (Yeah I’m Spanish. Lived there from the birth till ten when we moved to England and met the Carlile family.) the school’s female bad-@#$%. In conclusion, don’t mess with me sweetie. I’m one tough cookie. Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ Ｏｎｅ， I smiled and pulled down my white tank top, and tugged up my black denim jeans. I smiled, happy with my appearance and slipped on my checked blue shirt over the vest, leaving the top four buttons undone. This is my style, hidden and mysterious. That way my style gives nothing away about my personality. I walked down the road and back into civilisation. You see, my parents like to be isolated away from prying eyes, so our house is hidden within the woods. I continued walking and tripped as my multicoloured Hightops tripped on the kerb. I laughed with a few of the sleepy students and made my way to school. Yay. It’s finally my last year at Autumn high, and only days away until my birthday. Which means a brand new car. No more walking. I stepped into the almost empty hallway and walked to my locker, I smirked as I noticed the school’s so called ‘queen bee’ leaning up against my locker with a shirt that perhaps was a bit too short like her matching shorts. “Sorry Britney, slüt patrol isn’t my job. So ditch.” I suggested. I’ve got a strong Spanish accent, which works to my advantage with guys. I won’t always tell you though, so remember. Britney crossed her arms over her artificial breasts and I shoved her away from my locker. “Oh my gawd!” She said as she fell backwards onto the cool ruled floor. I choked back my laughter and acted innocent as she stood up again. Instead I picked up my school bag from my locker and slipped my plastic lunchbox into it. “I will get you back for that. Oh and nice hair.” Britney she mocked as she pointed a fake nail at me, then walked off and I laughed as her denim shorts rode up her butt. “Hey Britney!” I called, she turned back angrily with her fists clenched. “I didn’t know underwear came in denim!” I yelled, then she wove me a two fingered salute and strutted out of the corridor. I laughed and pulled my platinum blonde hair over my shoulders, straightening my baby blue side fringe between my index and middle fingers. “It is nice hair.” I mumbled to myself and slammed my locker shut and leaned against it, watching as the corridor filled up even more. “Sanchez!” Chase. Cràp. He spotted me through an opening in the crowd and pushed his way through. He was wearing a Fred Perry light blue shirt with white outlining, dark denim jeans that sagged as always to show his ridiculous D
He was wearing a Fred Perry light blue shirt with white outlining, dark denim jeans that sagged as always to show his ridiculous D