Falling For You, Ana Fuentes [i read book .TXT] 📗

him lick his lips, and my breathing starts coming faster.
His hands carefully, slide up my flat stomach, up to my breasts.
He unclips the second strap with trembling fingers, and the bra falls to the bed.
He stares at me, his hazel eyes holding love and nothing else.
“I Love You Zoin” he whispers. *****
I open my eyes, and see darkness.
But it doesn’t matter.
Something happened.
I had a dream of Dylan.
I run a shaky hand through my hair.
“Dylan” I moan remembering how he had kissed me.
I had a freaking dream of my best friends.
He was kissing me!
…And I was kissing him back.
What makes it worse was that…I had been dreaming of Michael, before Dylan.
Well I was kissing Michael, and then BOOM I’m now suddenly kissing Dylan.
Talk about creepy.
Uhhh.
I now feel like a slut.
I mean I was kissing two boys.
Even if it was in a dream.
What makes it worse was that I was enjoying it.
I was enjoying being a slut.
God, what is wrong with me.
I don’t think I can even look at Dylan straight in the face anymore.
I’m so embarrassed.
“Ahh,” I groan.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
I sit up, and look to the side where my alarm clock is.
5:40.
“Aww, come on” I groan, closing my eyes. I lay down again.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
I sit up again, and slap my hand against the alarm clock.
Hoping I hit the Dismiss button.
When it seems as if it won’t snooze anymore I throw the covers off my body, and drag myself out of bed.
I go out my room, and into the bathroom.
I pee, wash my hands and I’m about to leave, when something catches my attention in the mirror.
I’m wearing the same close I had yesterday.
Green Skinny jeans, an unzipped black hoodie, and a blue tank top.
Shit.
I fell asleep in the clothes I went to school with.
And, that can only mean one thing…
Shit.
Please tell me I’m dreaming.
I hurry out of the bathroom, and into my room.
I look around wildly for my backpack. I find it near my bed.
I look over at my desk.
Nothing lays on it.
Ahh, Fuck. Make that Double Shit.
I bite my lip, and kneel in front of my backpack. I unzip it, hold my breath, and take out my binder.
I open it, and there it is.
My assignment.
The Essay I had to do. The one that counted for half of your grade.
The one that was due today.
“Fucken Son of a Bitch” I mutter, slamming my hand against my forehead.
I shove my folder back into my backpack, and stand up.
I feel a sudden urge to punch the wall.
But instead I go with kicking my backpack.
“Fucken A!” I yell.
I realize a moment to late my stupid mistake.
I hear a knock coming from my door, and I turn to face the sound.
“Shut The Hell Up Zoin!” My little brother begins in a loud voice, “You’re going to fucken wake up Mom and Dad, you dick hole!” He yells the last words.
I clench my teeth, and curl up my hands.
Once again I fight the urge to punch something.
Only this time my little brothers “perfect” face.
I mean sure he’s a cute boy, but to go all the way to call him perfect.
Who the hell cares if he has black curly hair, and pretty dark blue eyes. If he has a beautifully unblemished face, AND was voted best looking boy in eight grade.
That doesn’t hide the fact that he’s a fucking douche.
I mean he’s dated way more people than I have in my whole life.
And I’m two years older.
But no, that never stopped him from breaking half the schools girl’s hearts.
Most of his “relationships” only lasted about 4 days.
A week at the most.
I let out a deep breath, and let my body relax.
Man, having a little brother is A-N -N-O-Y-I-N-G.
It really stresses someone out.
“You shut the hell up Mark!” I scream back.
I hear him grunt outside my door, and footsteps meaning he left.
Ha! Point for Zoin.
I feel a smile come to my lips, but then it fades away.
I’m going to fail History.
I suck.
I bite my lip, and swallow feeling my throat construct around itself. I feel tears burn in my eyes, and my nose starts to sting.
In no time I’m crying and sniffling, sitting on the ground by my bed.
I don’t understand how, but I’m just a really sentimental person.
I cry over everything.
I wipe my nose and tears away one last time before standing up.
I look over at my clock.
6:00
I open my eyes in surprise.
I spent 15 minutes crying.
I quickly stand up, and walk to my mirror.
My nose is all red, and my eyes, well my eyes look fine.
No red puffiness all over them.
I give a sigh of relief.
I start by peeling my clothes off. I take off my hoodie, and throw it at the wall, near my other dirty clothes.
I’m messy, I admit it.
Next I unbuttoned my jeans and slid them off my legs. I threw those at the wall also. I then take my tank top off, and threw that also.
I dig around my drawer for a pair of undies, and my favorite bra. I then put my bathrobe on, and walk into the bathroom.
I turn on the faucet, and put my bathrobe on the hanger. I grab a towel, and set it on the toilet seat.
I fix the water, mixing hot and cold, to make it perfect.
Then I slide my undies off, and unclip my bra.
I get into the shower and let the water caress my skin.
And once again I start thinking about my dream.
Michael.
The name brings heat through my body, it makes me want more of him.
My attraction for him, started at the beginning of summer, which was months ago by now.
We are now in January.
Anyway I was at the park one afternoon with Dylan, we were having a picnic.
I saw this boy pass in a skateboard, and do a bunch of cool tricks on the realigns.
That whole afternoon at the park I spent looking at the boy who was Michael, as I found out in my Sophomore year.
And ever since that one day, I haven’t stopped thinking and dreaming about him.
Yep, but here comes the bad thing…
He’s a Bad Boy.
A Rule Breaker.
Yet those are the things that make him more attractive to me.
Makes me think off all the “fun” we could have.
But, from what I hear he never, and I mean NEVER talks to anyone.
He’s a loner in school.
And outside of school.
Still most girls think he’s Sexy, you know, in the bad boy way.
And that is one of the things that I agree with.
Michael is Sexy. I let those words burn in my mind.
I wash my hair, and body, skipping shaving today.
Since I’m going to be late.
I get out of the shower and dry my body with the towel.
I put my undies and bra on. Then I put my bathrobe on and go to my room.
Inside my room, I go over to my closet, and dig around looking for something I like, or want to wear.
I decide on a mid-thigh black skirt, bright green tank-top, and a ripped black shirt, with holes all over it. So that way people can see my green under shirt.
I pick out a pair of midnight blue tights from my drawer, and put them on.
Next I put the skirt on. I grab pair of knee high bright green socks, and put those on also. I grab my worn-out black Converse from under my bed, and put them on.
I finish getting dressed, and put my deodorant on.
“I Love you 1, a 2, a 3 shobee-doo, I love you 4, that’s more than I can afford, and I can tell someday, that I’m gunna say the truth”
It takes me a second to realize, my phone is ringing.
The ringtone “I Love You 5” starts again, and I look around for my phone.
“Ahh, Where the Hell is it?” I say out loud.
I find it on my bed.
I dive on my bed for it, and answer just in time, forgetting to check who it was.
“Hello” I say put of breath.
“Oh, hey Zoin-” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Dylan!....um, hey how’s it going?” I ask him.
My dream suddenly comes rushing back to me.
…Dylan’s mouth, against mine…the way he moaned my name…the way I moaned HIS name.
An intense blush comes upon I’m cheeks, and I look down on instinct. Even though I’m alone.
“Uh, Fine…I was just wondering why you weren’t at school, yet” he replies.
“Oh, yeah…about that-” I start to say but he cuts me off.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being rude, yesterday, and stuff…I was just feeling kinda awkward” he says in a rush.
I swallow, taking a minute to think about what to say.
“Are you still there Zoin?” he asks.
“Um, oh yeah, still here” I reply.
“Are you okay?” he asks me, with a hint of worry.
“Um, yeah, it’s just that I um…woke up late” I respond.
I hear him exhale on the other side, and he takes a moment to reply back. “Oh, I see…well, I’ll see you later…I guess” he says, and then hangs up on me.
WTH.
I didn’t even say goodbye.
I set my phone on my bed, and walk over to my mirror.
I grab my cover up, and apply it all over my face. I grab my black eyeliner, and put some on right below my eye. Not that much, because I don’t want to look like a raccoon.
I pick up my brush, and brush my dark brown hair. I have long dark brown hair that reaches my breasts.
Well I think it’s long.
And boring. I don’t like my hair, its fat. I mean I have too much hair, it looks fat.
I’m a boring looking girl.
I have dark brown eyes that seem to have no glint in them. Just boring dark brown.
I mean, why can’t I have blue eyes like my little brother. Or have black curly hair.
Why did he get the good looks from my parents.
Why do I look crappy? Why me?
Well I’m not that ugly, but I’m not that amazing looking girl that always seems to stand out.
I’m just a normal girl.
Okay, maybe not normal, I might dress a little weird.
And some bastards might call me a freak.
But I’m just me.
And I’m not satisfied with ‘just me’.
I’ve never had a boyfriend, or gone on a date.
My mom says it’s because I’m too young. But my little bro has had handful of girlfriends, and dates.
I let out a sigh, and grab my phone. I pick up my backpack from the ground, and make my way downstairs.
I stop at the kitchen, and see my mom at the stove, cooking breakfast.
My mom has light brown shoulder length hair, and bright blue eyes. She’s beautiful, not a gray hair in sight. She’s young, barley 32, she had me, when she was 16.
She had a sad life.
When her parents found out she was pregnant, they kicked her out. But the good thing was that my dad, and her were in love, so they got married, the moment they got out of high school. And have lived together ever since.