A bullied girl meets the popular new student.
*****
"Still saying that you're perfectly okay?" Max whispers.
I'm surprised to hear that his voice is shaking.
"I'm going to find who did this to you."
*****
One time, I was the most popular girl in sch...
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The moment I step into Max's bedroom, my eyes scan the surrounding. I see his king-sized bed, bookshelves hung on the wall and his desk placed at the corner of the room. His bedroom is simple and quite neat for a boy's room.
There's a glass door leading to a balcony, and I remember that Max once told me he liked to watch the moon at night from there.
"Do you mind waiting for a while?" Max asks, placing the cookies box on his desk. "I need to take a shower first."
I nod, and Max walks off to his bathroom.
While waiting for him, I scan the bookshelves, which store books about academic subjects, business strategy, history and athletes' biographies. I also spot a couple of books about the oil and gas industry -- that's understandable, since his parents came from that background.
Sighing, I notice that there isn't any novel at all. But then I chuckle, knowing that I can't imagine Max reading romance novels.
The photo frames standing on the cabinet catch my attention. Some of them are of Max's former football team in Australia. A smile touches my lips as my fingers graze a photo of his family -- the four of them posing in front of what seemed to be a concert hall in Europe. Vienna, perhaps.
They were wearing winter coats, his Dad hugging his Mom while Max himself made silly poses with Sienna. They all beamed with happiness.
Seeing this picture makes me figure out that they're fond of classical concerts. I've spotted a white grand piano back there in their living room. Somehow, I feel happy that I might be able to talk about music with them.
The next picture is also of four of them, but at the beach -- maybe it's in Australia. Heat travels to my cheeks, because Max was shirtless in this photo, only wearing board shorts.
Immediately, I look around the room. I can still hear the sound of water from the bathroom -- Max is still taking a shower. It would be embarrassing if he caught me checking out his shirtless photo like this.
Well, I didn't take a good look when he was shirtless earlier downstairs. But based on that quick observation, I liked what I saw.
No, I think that my eyes liked what they saw, I correct.
I bring the photo frame closer to my face, my eyes zooming on his broad shoulders and perfectly toned abs. What's even better is that he looked more tanned in this photo -- I can't take my eyes off it.
Those abs look amazing -- I wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers on it.
Oh, no. What am I thinking?
"What are you looking at?"
Max's voice snaps me out of my daze, making me yelp as I abruptly turn around, dropping the photo onto his desk that the clattering sound echoes in the room.
