Amelia's POV"How the fuck did you get into–" I squint my eyes in disbelief "–you know what, don't answer that question, I know how, but you know this is creepy as hell, right?"Miguel Angel is sitting on my bed, resting on his elbows and looking at me from beneath his lashes. He's wearing a white vest and black slacks and his hair is falling over his shoulders. "You're cussing a whole lot these days? Any particular reason why?" Picking the rose from the ground, I throw it on the couch along with my bag and fold my arms, trying to give off a semblance of nonchalance when I am anything but. The confrontation is finally happening and from the glint in his eye and the fact that he breached my safe space, I know that running away is impossible. I can lock myself in the bathroom. "Don't even think about it, Amelia." I look away from the bathroom door guiltily "Do you know you only call me that when you're pissed?"He rises from the bed and I walk to the other side of the room, puttin
Amelia's POVBunching up the sheets to cover my chest, I say his name and he stops mid stride, turning to look at me."That's it? You're just going to leave?""I'm not going to wait for you to throw me out of your bed come morning, Amelia."Is he being serious right now?"You're a bastard.""And you told me you liked someone else, right before you kissed me.""What the hell do you want from me?"I know what he wants to hear. He knows that I know."You know what I want, good girl."When I don't say anything, he merely rakes his eyes over my body"Goodnight, Amelia." He slams the door.I scream in frustration, wiping at my teary eyes and throw a pillow at the door.Something catches my eye on the bedside table and when I crawl towards it, my heart splits in two.It's a rose. Lying beside it is a small bag and when I look inside, I see what it is.Beef jerky.A violent sob escapes my mouth.I'm so screwed.*********************"Hey, nerd. I got you something. Mind if I sit with you toda
Amelia's POV"Happy Birthday, Emilio!" Everyone cheers and I watch as my mum stands on her toes to kiss the celebrant. "They look great together." Christian says from beside me and I turn to face him. He's looking so handsome in his navy suit. "Hey" He smiles brightly and leans in to kiss my cheek "Hey you, feeling better?"Did I forget to mention that Christian came over to visit when I was sick, bearing gifts of flowers and chocolate?I'd chased him out of my room after one hour, with the excuse that I didn't want him to get whatever I was sick with. "Much" I lie "Thank you for the flowers. And the chocolate." About eighty percent of said chocolate is sitting pretty in Bianca's stomach. "It's no hardship. These babies aren't just for aesthetics. They need to lift some weight around" He flexes his muscles and I chuckle, before swallowing the remaining contents of my glass which is strictly non alcoholic. After that night, I don't foresee booze in my near future. "Have I told
Amelia's POVThis was what my mum meant when she said he'd been rehearsing a tune for days.My hands fly to my mouth and I choke back a sob as the reality of the moment hits me like a train.I've fallen for him.I can't breathe.I remove Christian's hand from my waist"Amy?""Are you okay, Mimi?"Christian and Bianca say at the same time."I just need some air. I'm fine. I'll be back in ten." I squeak, shaking my head when Christian tries to come after me because I'm already running out of the house.Where do I go?Where do I escape to?How do I even handle this?I make my way to the garden, falling to my knees as the first sob escapes my lips.The next minute, arms are wrapping around me and pulling me to my feet.I know who it is.I can feel myself falling into the embrace even as my mind tells me that this shouldn't be happening.The house is filled with guests. So many people.I try to release myself from his grip, but his arms are like steel around my waist, pulling me back to h
Amelia’s POV"She tried to kill herself. Overdose. They don't know how she was able to access that many pills in the rehabilitation center but they're looking into it. Right now, she's in the operating room, but your manager's with her. They found a handwritten note under her pillow. Addressed to your father." My mother's words replay in my head as I stand in front of Miguel's bedroom door. His mother's manager had called Emilio to give the news and as my mother had tried to calmly explained the situation to him in the study, Emilio and I present but deathly silent, I'd watched Miguel's face grow paler and paler until he heard the part about the letter addressed to his father."Till the very fucking end. An attention seeker till the fucking end. How romantic that she thought to write a letter for her ex husband and none to her own child.""Son.""Don't you fucking call me that! Do you hear me?"And then he'd stormed out of the study, slamming the door so hard it shook. That was fif
Amelia"You're not running for the hills." He observes. I shake my head, unable to say more. Because even after everything I know, even now when I look at him, all I want to do is stay. But wanting to do and doing are worlds apart. "Not even when I tell you that my mother didn't walk into the rehabilitation center of her own free will and that she overdosed, unable to grasp that her ex husband was remarrying?"My mouth gapes "The press said it was a–""The manager said, good girl. Telling the world that media heartthrob, Faye Smith is a attention seeking self serving manipulative drug addict who didn't like being jilted sounds a whole lot worse than being a druggie because of the stress accompanying celebrity living." I'm never going to envy celebrities ever again. He must see my thoughts clearly expressed on my face because he smiles, even though it's dull. Tormented. "Aren't you glad you dodged the bullet. Said no and saved yourself from this mess?" He gestures to himself, th
AmeliaI don't know how the phone in my hand is still glued to my ear because my hands are shaking, my palm is sweaty and my heart is racing a thousand miles. I'm stuck between euphoria and dysphoria. He's back. Shuffling to my feet, I turn to go to Bianca's room to grab my charging when something makes me pause. Bianca is looking at me with unhidden interest. My mum is still on the phone. She said Emilio came back. What about Miguel Angel?"Amelia? Are you still there?" I hear her ask. "Mum? You didn't say anything about Miguel Angel. Is he okay? Did something happen?"Silence. Then "He's fine, darling. But if you don't know, that means he hasn't told you? I thought–""What did he say?"My mum's pause makes me suck in a harsh breath "He decided to stay. In Los Angeles. But he promised to come visit for Christmas. And Thanksgiving. And all the other holidays."I slowly take my seat and when Bianca's eyes widen, I know she can probably see the horror on my face. He's fine. He's
Amelia"Wow"That's all Bianca has said since I spilled my guts to her. We're lying on our backs on my bed and staring at the roof of my bed. "Told you I'm crazy.""You're not crazy.""So you think it's okay?"She turns to face me "Do you think it's okay?" I frown at her "You're supposed to have all the answers.""I think you have me mixed up with you. You are the love expert."I snicker "Yeah, from fictional books and watching you and Adam run around in circles. I've never been in love–" I pause "–I don't even know if this is love." She rolls her eyes and sighs "I can't tell you what to do. Because I don't know how you're feeling. I mean, I understand falling for Angel, because have you seen him?" This time I roll my eyes and she chuckles "But, I can't tell you if what you're feeling is right or wrong. Logically speaking, the only reason you're even related is because your parents got married. But things aren't as easy as that.""I know" "And he's gone. So you have two options,
Amelia"And here to deliver the valediction for the graduating class of 2019, Amelia Rose Hart, everyone." I don't look at my mother or my stepfather or my best friend or the applauding crowd that have gathered to celebrate all the graduating students, I look at the stage as I slowly advance towards it. And I remember the last time I saw anyone giving a speech on a stage was at prom. My ex boyfriend. Because yes, we did have a relationship contrary to what our parents think. Miguel Angel Sanchez. It seems like just yesterday when our love story started and ended. After he left that night, I'd spent the remainder of the days before graduation on Bianca's bed. My mother couldn't have moved me no matter how hard she tried. There was nothing to threaten me with. Especially when she knew I'd be leaving to go to New York in a month. Yes, Bianca and I got accepted to study at Columbia University just like we'd hoped we would. My mother didn't even bother about talking me into going to
AmeliaHave you ever heard that saying that warns you to look over your shoulder when things are going too smoothly for you?No? Me neither. Right now, I'm frozen in place by the door. Too forward?Okay. After Miguel's beautiful speech, we danced some more and Jane cornered me right before we left, her words cryptic and a smug grin on her face. I'd been so happy about the events of the night to pay her any mind even though now looking back, I should have. The good girl of Evergreen High, whatever will mummy say? "How dare you come here and do this?" Emilio roars and I flinch and shrink into the ground, even though he's not referring to me but the son he's currently holding by the neck. My mother is observing the scene with terror but riding on the back of that terror is disappointment. She's standing inches away from where I'm crouched on the ground."Let me go, Dad." Miguel breathes and that seems to be the sentence that sets Emilio off because he rears back and punches his s
Amelia"You know it's not because you're a jock, right?" I whisper and Christian nods, even though his face tells me that he doesn't quite believe me. The song ends and another starts, signalling that it's time to switch partners. We stop dancing and Christian places a kiss on the side of my mouth. "Till we meet again, fair maiden" He whispers to my still form and moves away to another partner. Slowly shaking my head with a smile, I turn around to find a new partner and cue the hammering heart and dancing butterflies. Miguel is standing in front of me. And that's when I finally hear the song playing. My song. Our song. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him. My lips part as our bodies meet and I grip his shoulders to steady myself as we begin to move"I'm still mad at you." He whispers, pulling me even closer "No, not mad. I could never be mad at you. Frustrated, perhaps." He rests his forehead against mine "But I wanted to dance with you. To your song. Our song.
Amelia’s POV"Is this the wrong time to tell you that everybody has been staring since you walked into this hall?" I turn away my attention from where Miguel is standing and talking to Pamela Bradshaw–who seems to be smiling at everything he says even though he doesn't look like he's trying to charm her– to my best friend. She hands me a drink and when I raise my eyebrows "There's definitely no alcohol in this place. There are teachers everywhere in this hall to make sure of it."When I still raise my eyebrows, she snickers and whispers in my ear "Okay, Blake and the others might have smuggled some in, but this is purely punch. I promise.""Thank you." I tell her and collect the cup, taking a tentative sip before nodding"What's that about people staring? Is there something in my hair?" She shakes her head "You look like a princess. And of course, you arrived in the arms of a prince" Her face softens and she whispers "How are things between you two?" I shrug, ignoring the weight th
Amelia’s POVI can hear two voices at the base of the stairs as I take tentative steps towards it. "And what's your excuse, young man for not having a date to prom? I mean, look at you. I'm sure you have your fair share of ladies vying for your attention." My mother. And if she's talking to who I think she is...My heart skids to a halt. Please come to prom. Please. Saying no to you is an exercise in effort, Mia. He's going to prom. And we're going to be in the same car and not able to say anything because of his dad's driver. But he's going. I'll find a way to end this silence between us. Because I can't afford to go another night without talking to him. I pause when I hear his reply"I don't have a date because the one person that I want to go with doesn't feel the same way."Oh, I feel the same way. My mother gasps "Some girl in this world is immune to your charms? This is a revelation."He snickers and I suck in a breath as I make my presence known. The second their head
Amelia"Ooh, yeah, you lose, Miles, pay up ASAP." Miguel yells with a fist bump in the air and I look away from the novel I'm reading on my phone to see Bianca rolling her eyes and dropping a bill in his hand. "A rematch, Angel. I demand a rematch." She whines and I roll my eyes because Bianca hates losing and Miguel is even worse so we're going to be here for a long while. I should get very comfortable then. The duo dragged me to the arcade about an hour ago and have been at it like animals. This is the first time I've been able to go with them because I've been busy with the decathlon–which we won by the way in flying colours and got me the gold neckpiece I'm wearing from Miguel– and I can honestly say that I want nothing more than my bed right now. "And you're done. Again. Pay up, Bianca." "I demand a rematch."Oh my God, is this ever going to end?"You're on, Miles."Gahhhhhhhhhhh, this is never going to end. "So, Mimi–" Bianca calls without looking at me "–what time are we
Amelia’s POV"It's beautiful" I gasp as I look at the Miguel's arm with awe. We're at a tattoo parlour in Denver and Miguel just finished getting a tattoo on the left side of his arm. Of a rose. I'd imagined it would be a horrifically painful experience the minute I saw the large needle, but as the tattoo artist got to work and I sat by Miguel, talking to him about anything and everything and holding his right hand, time had passed by really quick and it was done. Speaking of tattoos, I've gotten around to completing the wanton list or beginner's wanton list, according to my dearest best friend, Bianca. Skip school? Check. Get drunk? Check.Kiss a random guy? Christian Grammer, my former crush and now friend takes this one. Fail a test? Okay, I couldn't do this so it was scrapped. Get detention? To be fair, Miguel made me laugh in Mr Davis's, our boring History teacher's class and got detention with me. Bianca also got detention for clucking her tongue. It was a swell time. Go
Amelia"Are you good?" I ask Miguel as we lie on my bed, his head on my chest and my hand softly stroking his hair. I've had to lock my door more because he's been spending almost all of his nights in my room. Half of my closet has been cleared out because he forgets his clothes here and showers here, to my immense satisfaction. "Is it okay to be scared?"He murmurs, drawing circles absentmindedly on my exposed abdomen. Exams are starting tomorrow and he's been working even harder than I have towards it. He finally got around to telling Bianca and her reaction was as easy as she is. You'd think we told her the time. Since then, we've been working with Jennifer and the teachers whose subjects he's finding most difficult. He's had two panic attacks and I was by his side for each one. So I can understand his worry even though everything else has been smooth. He hasn't pushed me on the topic of telling our parents about us, but I know it's because he's been busy obsessing over the exa
Amelia’s POV Amelia ...the internet says seven because that's when I officially started learning how to paint but I knew when I was six. I wasn't good at school and I didn't talk much but for some reason.... ....Reading and writing is hard for some of us, not that you'll know anything about that.... ....He's in the counselor's office. You'll have to ask him. He sees her at least two or three times a week.... ....And yes, there are indeed things I am not good at. Like, school.... ....I'd like to think that in another life, I'd be good at it. And it wouldn't be so hard to like school.... ....Reading was difficult. Writing was worse.... ....She bought me crayons and said 'If you cannot read and write about the world, you can colour it'.... ....She read to me every night and suggested that I be homeschooled since the school environment wasn't working for me.... ....Something was wrong with me. Because why else would my parents not want me?.... ....It's not like you were ever goo