A Beautiful, Terrible Love, Lucky 97 [classic romance novels .txt] 📗

A Beautiful Terrible Love
Olivia Jones

Chapter 1

Every time I entered my room, I saw him.
His startling emerald green eyes stared at me, his wild red hair in a carefully planned disarray. His jacket, perfectly tailored, was a dark brown color, complimenting the perfectly clear complexion that he seemed to wear effortlessly. His dark blue jeans rested low on his hips, and a hint of skin was showing right where his tight shirt and jeans met. The muscles he had were straining against his shirt, and his cheekbones, very defined in his masculine face, were slightly red. His full red lips only accented his perfectly proportioned facial features.
I walked past him to my cluttered mound of paperwork on my desk. It was my senior year, and I had tons of homework, not to mention college applications.
I drew out the rickety swivel chair, it making a soft squeak in submission. I plopped down on it, sighing in exhaustion. Every move I made was amplified here in our former attic, right down to the deep, relaxed breaths I was taking.
I was bundled up in a warm woolen jacket, shivering still from the cold temperatures. When I breathed out, a little white cloud flew out of my mouth, reaching to the heavens, vanishing after only a mere second. Up here, it was as cold as the Arctic. Ice crystals crept slowly up the leg of my desk, and my drink I had brought up here a day ago was completely frozen. I turned on my small mini-heater, basking in the meager warmth, wishing for more of that heavenly goodness. It embraced me, dancing along my face, tickling my nose.
I peered past my desk to him, then quickly looked away. My head tilted as if I had committed some sort of crime. In a way, for me, it was.
For he wasn't real. Every laugh I saw him make was frozen on a page. I could hear his sweet, soothing voice, but only from a CD or the computer. Every smile he gave was to an audience, a mob of ferocious teenage fans. The whispers that normally swirl around a popular figure weren't in existence, everyone awed by his perfection. Really, he defines perfection.
His name was Dex, and he was the most popular guy in America.
I contemplated tearing down the shiny new poster so I could actually work. He was distracting me, tearing me like a Band-Aid from my goal. He taunted me, whispering sweet nothings to my unwilling ears, trying to enchant me.
Well, I was NOT going to fall for him again.
"Sadie!" I roared down the steps angrily. I could hear the soft patter of footsteps as my sister came to meet me in our new room. Yes. Ours.
"Yes, annoying twin?" she asked sarcastically. She was wearing a cute running suit, with strands of purple racing down her clingy T-shirt and yoga pants. I winced at the surplus of skin she bared.
"How are you not freezing?" I demanded, my eyes narrowing.
"Well, whenever I stare at that guy," she nodded towards the shiny poster on the otherwise bare wall. "He takes away the cold," she joked. I frowned.
"Can you take it down please?" I pleaded. She chuckled at my obvious discomfort.
"Why should I?" she asked airily, laughter lacing her words.
"It's distracting me!" I complained, "I can't work."
She laughed. "Little Eve falling for Dex again?" A touch of crimson graced my lightly tanned face. She walked closer to me, slinging a small, athletic arm around my shoulders. She whirled me around to face the poster.
"Sadie. Stop," I said, discomfort mounting in my chest. She waved off my numerous complaints.
"Look at this dimple right here," she pointed at a spot just above his mouth, noting the small crease that he had in his cheeks. I had noticed that the first time he smiled to the cameras, posing for People magazine. "And look here, at this beautiful, spectacular ring. See that ruby?" I did not reply. I was NOT going to play Sadie's game. I reached up to grab the top of the huge poster, ready to rip it apart. I couldn't look at him anymore.
Sadie forced my hands away frantically.
"Mom!" she wailed, "Eve's trying to tear up my limited-edition five star life-size thirty dollar poster!"
"Yup," I muttered, trying to barrel my way towards the poster.
"So you ARE starting to like him again!" Sadie laughed as she pushed me away from the monster of a poster.
"No I'm not!" I shrieked, "MOM!"
"It's okay," Sadie reassured me as she pulled me far away from the poster. "It's normal to have a celebrity crush, and even MORE normal to have a Dex crush. Look at me! I have this brand new poster of him in my room so I could admire his hotness everyday when I wake up."
"No! I will NOT STAND having a poster of him in my room!" I boomed. I was just starting to recover. Why did Sadie have to ruin it now?
It all started when I was nine years old...

Mom had just turned on the television, and a little boy of ten trounced on the stage of American Idol. He was so adorable, graced with a naturally clear complexion and red hair. Everyone “oohed” and ‘ahhed’, awed by the boy's cuteness.
"What are you going to sing for us, little boy?" the hostess asked. She smiled at the little boy, and he stood perfectly still, with an elegance and grace people could only hope to mimic.
"I will sing ‘Love Me’ by Justin Bieber." His voice had an alluring musical lilt to it.
The piano began to play, and so did his voice.
His voice was toying with us, leaving us on edge, and drawing us in faster than lightning. We were hanging on his every note. This boy seemed to be meant for an audience, and at that minute, all of America, agreed to be his. We were unexplainably bound to this one boy. He had captured our hearts in one simple song.
"All I have to say is... WOW!" The hostess said, eyes widening at the boy's incredible talent, "you will surely have an amazing career from now on," she informed him.
That year, the boy, named Dean Letterman, won American Idol.
Soon after, he changed his name to Dex.
I remember seeing his angel-like face and instantly melting under his bewitching smile. I was in love.
Sadie, my twin, was not as obsessed as I was.
"Wow," little Sadie had commented on my masterpiece, or so I called it. We were eleven at the time. I glanced at her, then felt my eyes tugged towards the paper once more.
It was a drawing of Dex on a piece of my valuable thick sketching paper. However, I felt like my "beautiful" drawing didn't do Dex justice, so I began to cry. Tears slipped down my face in rivers, splashing onto my dress and bare arms.
"Wow," Sadie repeated, rolling her eyes.
That wasn't even the worst of it.

When I was twelve, I was best friends with the cutest guy in school, Peter. On a cold winter morning, he came up to me in the hallway.
"Eve," he grabbed my hand as I was about to go to class, "please wait. I need to talk to you,"
"Yes, Peter?" I was a little annoyed, if he kept me here I was going to be late for class. Peter seemed nervous, looking around anxiously. I softened at his expression and touched his warm hand, "What is it, Peter?"
“Will you go out with me?" he rushed, words tumbling out at once. I was stunned. Peter LIKED me? But...
"Peter..." I said, uncomfortable, "You are the best friend I've ever had, but I don't like you like that,"
Peter's eyes crinkled. He seemed to be in pain.
"Eve... you are so weird!" he blurted out, "You don't LIKE like anyone. I thought you might like me since you talk to me all the time but I guess I was wrong." He reached forward and grabbed my shoulders, "I don't understand Eve. I know you would tell me if you really liked someone, but I've never heard anything from you. All my other girl friends talk about guys all the time. Eve, do you like someone?"
"Yes," the dooming word escaped my mouth. Peter looked like he had been slapped. Not saying a single word, he walked away. I raced to him, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"Peter!" I cried. He turned slowly, his face like stone. "Can we still be best friends?"
"Don't you get it?" Peter said sharply, "That's not enough for me anymore,"
He left me in the hallway, a flood of tears cascading from me.

It was Dex's fault.
I had never noticed Peter as a guy that I could go out with. To me, he was always just a friend. I hadn't really looked at any other guys either. Why was that?
It was my obsession with Dex. He had obliterated all of my possible love interests, only leaving him to dream about. I knew that if Dex didn't exist, I would have probably gone out with Peter. He was a very handsome guy, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. All the girls liked him, so I would probably be really popular also.
Now, all because Dex existed, I lost my best friend and a possible social status, and for what?
A crush on Dex that would come to nothing. At that very instant, I hated Dex for ruining my life. Instead of love, disdain filled me, blossoming in my chest.
That was the end of my celebrity obsession. It was still there, though. I could feel it, biting and kicking to be let out of its shell. Some part of me still liked Dex. No matter how much I had tried to suppress and smash that part, it had endured for over five years. I had managed to not sneak a single peek at Dex for that time.
I guess that's why Sadie's poster bugged me so much. It was Dex. Sadie didn't even love Dex like I used to. I bet she only got that poster to bug me.
“Sadie, why did you get that poster?” I asked sadly. She twirled her hair around her fingers nonchalantly.
“What do you mean? I got it for me!” Sadie replied, a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. Sadie was so pretty. She had dirty blond hair and huge brown eyes, which complimented her heart shaped face. Her body was toned, shapely and muscular, and her nose was cute as a button. I was insanely jealous of her. She got the pretty genes, and all I got was mousy brown hair and a super skinny figure. The only thing I liked about myself was my eyes. They were even bigger than Sadie’s, which was saying something, and they were blue-violet.
“I know you didn’t,” I accused. She groaned.
“Okay, okay,” she nodded, “I’ll tell you. But first, here’s a present for you.” She handed me a small silver box. I opened it eagerly, first tearing off the ribbon then ripping the top from the bottom...
It was tickets to Dex’s concert here in town.
“Ugh! Sadie!” I angrily slapped the tickets in her hand, “That’s not a present!”
“Yes it is,”
“NO IT’S NOT!!!” I screamed.
“Look, Eve. You have been in some sort of depression for the last five years, and you’re not popular like you