How To Win A Guy In 30 Days

How To Visit

Vanessa removed the sheets from her face with a large smile on her face, satisfied with her peaceful slumber. It had been days since she had slept in peace. The agitation, the constant fear of losing the match had kept her awake for the best part of the night for many days. But yesterday, her mind was dancing on clouds and eating rainbows as she slept.

And she knew the reason well.

Once she was done with her routine, she headed downstairs for breakfast, humming mindlessly.

Her father was sitting on the couch, sipping the tea as his eyes narrowed down at the newspaper in his hand. Very likely of her father.

"Good morning daddy," she chirped and surprised both of them by kissing him on the forehead.

For a normal human, kissing the parentals was as casual as the weather talk, even a ritualistic, but Vanessa preferred minimal skin-to-skin contact with the opposite sex, be it her own blood, a hobo or even Chris Pratt.

Alex spewed the black coffee he had been drinking prior to the situation, coughing intermittently as he rubbed his throat. He looked at her as if she had grown another head.

Guess, she had surprised three people that morning.

"Oh, I love pancakes," she gleamed at the pile of golden colored pancakes stacked neatly on the plate. She served herself with two and poured a generous amount of chocolate syrup.

"I thought you hated chocolate," Alex said as he sat opposite to her on the dining table.

"I hate chocolate, not chocolate syrup."

He frowned and looked around to see if anyone was watching. When their father was busy on a call, he inclined his face closer and whispered, "did you get laid?"

Vanessa choked on her syrupy goodness and glared. "What? No! Why does everyone ask me that question?"

She was already considering printing a banner that clearly mentioned that she was still a virgin and no, that didn't make her a prude nor indicate a subtle invitation to the male species. And hang it on her back, so that people would have the courtesy to stop asking if she had sex every other night.

He shrugged. "For a brooding species, out of the blue smiles sure look creepy," he prompted and then looked at her with narrowed eyes, "and suspicious."

She gulped. "Am I that moody?"

"If I were to put you in words, I'd call you reticent," he said. "And averting the actual question won't imply that I ignored the reason for those creepy smiles, Vans."

The distant horn perked Vanessa and there came her saviour.

"That's my call." She ruffled his unruly blonde hair, mentally noting down that he needed a haircut, "good bye Alexy."

"I have my sources," he shouted as she skipped out.

She hiked to the silver Volkswagen parked a few metres from the house. "Morning Marly," she chirped.

Marly hit her head on the wheel and groaned. "This day is going to be frickin' great."

*

"I thought you would be in peace when Vanessa is happy," Jared said, amusement evident in his husky voice.

Marly frowned. Perhaps Jared was right, she should be happy that her best friend wasn't giving her the accustomed middle finger, in literal sense. But lately, Jared's vocabulary had turned irrefutably agreeable, no matter what angle she looked from.

She sighed mentally. Guess, that was what happened when you have a crush on a guy.

She couldn't fathom the out of the loop problems that senior year gave her. One year ago, she would have never imagined falling for the rival school's hot football QB and the best part was that he seemed to be borderline interested on her. Perhaps the size of a pea from her storm of affection, but it was more than sufficient for her.