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STUPID BOY , exileprker 001. cruel summer.
SUMMER WAS SAID TO BE THE greatest timeof the year. With sand tousled hair and skin so sun-kissed it left the moon envious; matching bikini sets and bee-stung lips from too many games of spin the bottle; summer was the time of every teenagers' life!
But for people with similar distaste as Violetta Love, summer couldn't be more than their own personal hell.
The time of year in which beaches were filled with sea hungry monsters, and ice cream melting against their lips and dripping down their chins like the seasonal depression slipped from their minds, was like a hurricane. Loud and violent, creating a mess of translucent, empty green bottles, and polaroid pictures taken with strangers, summer was a nightmare stuffed into two months of no school, but most importantly, no rules.
And Violetta hated it. She preferred to have a guideline to follow, a checklist to check, and rules to obey. She liked the life of simplicity and report cards, in fact, she loved it. She thrived off her own success, the growing hunger enlarging with every perfect remark given.
Summer was cruel to her in many ways, but at least she had the academic importance to look forward to after enduring two months of torture.
But she supposed maybe summer wasn't all that bad. Particularly when she got to spend it sleeping beside Scott McCall on the floor of his living room, their bodies accidentally finding themselves closer together than the night prior, the sound of the tv static sounding like a symphony in her ears as his snores played like a melody.
Summer was when she got to spend time with the boy she loved, forgetting all about the girl with ribbons in her hair that sat in front of him, tossing her hair over her shoulder and giving him a taste of what heaven was like as her vanilla perfume sent vibrations throughout his body.
But that was all coming to an end as quickly as it began as school creeped up on them and was said to resume tomorrow.
In preparation, Violetta Love stood at her long, oval shaped mirror with pictures of her friends and family taped on the glass, her undecided first day of school outfit hanging from a hanger as she held it against her body, her head tilted as she analyzed it.
"Too much," she mumbled to herself before throwing it behind her and adding it to the heap of clothes piled on her bed. She grabbed another hanger from her closet and did the same gesture as before, this time deciding it was 'not enough.' Again, she tossed it behind her with a huff.
