When sixteen-year-old, Anastasia 'Annie' Evans, finds out that her mother's newly-engagement comes with having a stepbrother, she starts to develop a certain attachment to him; not knowing that she's about to embark on a euphoric adventure full of l...
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when people have the nerve to ask for a shout out on a book that's a complete carbon copy of mine
like, "yes I stole a bunch of stuff from your story, now promote it for me" lol no bye
43 old fashioned sleepover
In the early morning light, when I'm standing in front of the sink brushing my teeth, doing my same every morning routine, and looking at my same face in the mirror -- brown eyes, brown hair, round face, completely ordinary -- it's easy to believe that I'm incredibly average; that nothing spectacular stands out about me.
I don't have any noteworthy characteristics, barely any friends -- if not only Ashton -- and if that's not bad enough, it's not like I'm even a nice person. Which only makes my sudden awareness even more shameful when I find myself wishing that I'd rather be anywhere in the world and doing anything else, then getting reading to go downstairs so that I can spend my entire day attempting to be a great maid of honor to my own mother.
Face it Annie, you're kind of a bitch.
The sound of someone knocking on the bathroom makes me flinch, and I force myself to stop my unnecessary sulking as I pull my toothbrush from my mouth and rinse. I figure it's Luke, since Andrew and my mom share their own bathroom and before I go to open the door, I wet my hands, and sift them through my hair. It's no use. The curls remain wild and frizzy from sweating all night in the smothering heat of my bedroom and I still haven't gotten around to detangling them.
Realizing this, I let my hands fall back to my sides. I'm supposed to be steering clear of Luke until the wedding and me trying to make myself look better for him does nothing but make my point redundant.
"I'll be just a second," I call. Only, the door pushes open and Luke peeks his head in. His eyes are closed tightly, eyebrows scrunched together and he says, "Are you dressed?" His blond hair is messy from sleep, falling in disheveled wisps over his forehead and he rubs his fist in his eye as he yawns.
At the sight, I bite back a smile. Gosh, why does he have to be so adorable? It's hardly fair. Luke laughs quietly, "... Annie are you dressed?"
I nod, because I am. But I don't then I figure that I shouldn't be sharing a bathroom with him; another redundant point. "Yeah, but I'm not done in the ba--"
Just like that, his eyes blink open and he starts in. But before I can allow him the chance to make it past the door, I hurry over to him and hold my hands up against the soft cotton of his t-shirt in attempt to block his path. "Give me two minutes, I'll be done in like two minutes. I still need to fix my hair."
Surely we shouldn't be sharing our bathroom time together anymore. He could learn to wait a few minutes, just as I could. Unfortunately, Luke doesn't see things my way. But I mean, why would he? The confused tilt to his eyebrows and the speculating narrowed blue eyes are my fault. He doesn't know anything about my "plan" to keep away from him until the wedding and I know that I should probably tell him.
