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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/974742-Luke-James
by crissy
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Melodrama · #974742
just another high school love story
Luke James. The hottest guy at Lincoln high was starring at me. He was looking into my soul, my heart. He started walking towards me. He was getting closer to me, closer, closer. He went right past me! I turned around to see his destination. Luke walked up to Regina navy and kissed her on the mouth. Regina was his girlfriend. His one true love according to everyone. Everyone that south valley high, that is. surely enough, their bodies complemented each other too. Luke was tall, short blonde hair that he spiked up , blue eyes, good cheeks, his body was fit . He was the high school football team captain. Sticking to the clichés, Regina was the cheerleading captain, blonde, tall, blue eyes and had an anorexic little body. I don’t care what anybody says, I swear I have heard her puking her brains out in the girls bathroom on several occasions.

“you’re completely obsessed with that guy” my friend Rosta told to me. Rosta was just his nickname, his real name was Michael Ronald. I called him that because. he reminded me of a fish I had which name was Rosta too. Michael looked just like him. Michael was short, skinny , but his cheeks were chubby (just like Rosta’s) he was my best friend in the whole wide world.

Before this story begins, you should know some things about me.
1. My name is Alexa
2.I have lived my entire life in south valley, California.
3. My physic is fair. I have very long curly hair, brown. Hazel eyes. Faded red pouty lips. Medium figure.
4.I consider myself a very intellectual person.
5. My family has always been humble, but in the summer of the culmination of my junior year, my mom landed a multimillion dollar deal (she’s a lawyer). So needles to say that I'm pretty well off.

So here we are, the summer of the beginning of my senior year. I’m totally ignored by the whole school, except Rosta of course. But I going to change it this summer. You see I’m going away to England, and when I come back, I’m going to be a different person. I don’t mean just the clothes, I mean the whole package. I know it.

Post card
To: Michael Ronald
12425 Golfen drive
South valley, ca.

Dear Rosta,
England is so beautiful1 you have to come up here some day. I’ve done some changes to my hair. And guess what? I lost weight (I know that I don’t need to, but I look so great!) I don’t want you give more details. You will just have to pick me up from the airport. Is that ok? Just in case you wanted to know, I hate Brighton university. I’m not going there when I graduate. I will just have to tell dad to forget about me going to his alma mater. Anyways, my plane flight is for the 18th of September. Yes, I know I will be late for school.. Oh well, whatcha gonna do?!
Love you always, Alex.


“hello Alex”

I heard my name somewhere, but I could not find the source of it. Where is it coming from!
I felt a something touching my right elbow. I started to turn around, and when I did , I realized who it was. “Rosta!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“Rosta, hi. Look at you. You look so cute. Oh, how much I missed you.”
“I almost didn't recognize you but then I saw your tote bag and I recognized it. Oh my god, you have changed. wow. Wow. Wow.”
“ will you stop? It’s just the hair and the make-up. And of course the new clothes.”
“it makes a hell of a difference”
“thanks. I was worried you wouldn’t like it.”
Rosta then proceeded to hug me and then to pick up my suitcases.
“ explain something to me, how is it that when you left, you only had one bag. Now you have 4. How much stuff could you possible buy in 2 months.” Rosta asked
“just stuff. Nothing bad, I promise. And besides, I got all my new clothes from England. There is this little boutique . Oh, it is so great!” I responded.

I followed Rosta to his car, a Chevy Malibu. I was always so surprised how he managed to keep this car in perfect condition even though he has had it for 3 years. Rosta opened the door for me, and I slipped into the car. The ride home was very quiet. we didn’t have to use words to understand each other. We just did. Just by being quiet we were saying so much. Rosta drove to my house in less than an hour. He carried my suitcases to my new room. During the summer my mother bought a house. An old colonial/Victorian house. It was so beautiful. After placing my bags on the bed, Rosta and I walked down to the kitchen.

“this is a beautiful house, Alex. You are going to love it here.” said Rosta .

The house was beautiful, it truly was. But it didn’t feel like home.
My mother was there standing in front of the stove. Is she cook…. No, she looking at take-out menus. I knew things couldn’t change that much.
"I'm going out with roger tonight. You're brothers are at a sleep-over. So you and Rosta will have the house to yourselves. Here are some take-out menus. Pick something for dinner." she said without turning around.
"mom, will you turn around please." I said.
She did. It took her a couple of seconds to recognize me.
"holy sh.." she rushed over to me and started to play with my hair. She spun me around and kissed me on my cheek.
"mom, would you stop? My hair is just a little shinier. And my clothes are a little flashier. Hey, you said that I could buy stuff in England."
"I know I did. Wow. Listen, I have to go get ready, but oh my God. We will talk about this new look tomorrow morning. Understood?"
"yes mother."
My mom went upstairs to get changed.
"you know she's right. Right? You look so different. Maybe it's something, I really don’t know what it is. You look more relaxed, more confident. More beautiful" he informed me.
"oh so I wasn’t beautiful before. Wow, that is very nice of you."
"you know what I mean. You look very pretty is all."
"ok, hey are you picking me up tomorrow morning?"
"sure. I have to go though. I have tons of homework due tomorrow."
homework a week into the school year? I had a tiny feeling in the bottom of my stomach that I would not like this school year.
5 minutes later Rosta had left and mom was yelling for me from her room. I went up to her bedroom, which in my opinion was too far from the rest of the house. Her bedroom was designed to be about 10 minutes from the main staircase. To get there one had to climb up the stairs and then head to the left. Keep walking until one reaches another staircase. Climb that one up as well, and one will reach the room. I guess it's good for privacy, but not for a mother. It is a disturbing thought that she could have a man in there and I wouldn’t be able to hear them, because my room is so far from hers. Echh……. Nasty!

Getting back to the story, mom called me and went to her room immediately.
"yes mother? Why are you calling me?"
"you don’t have to call Rosta tomorrow for a ride to school."
"ok. Why? Are you taking me? Mom, I don’t want my mother taking me to school."
"how nice. No, I will not be taking you. You will driving yourself."
She saw the puzzled look on my face.
"I bought you a car."
She said this in the calmest of voices. She bought a car. A CAR FOR ME. I HAVE A CAR. A CAR. A CAR!
"what?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You got me a car?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"oh my god, honey. Calm down. It's just that I knew that you needed a car, and well, now that I can get you one, I did. No big deal."
"mom. Wow. I love you. I love you so much!!!!!!!!"
I hugged her a hard as a I could. A car. Wow. Now, I'm 18, but I never had a car. This is due to the fact that the family was humble. I knew how to drive though. my dad had taught me. A car. Wow. A car.
I went down the garage to see my car. It wasn’t too hard to find. The car still had the plastic cover and my name on the windshield. I ripped the bow off to discover the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The car was silver, convertible, leather seats. It was a Chrysler 2004. so gorgeous!!!!!!
"tomorrow at school I'm going to make the biggest entrance ever. They wont be able to recognize me. Yes!!

The alarm went off exactly at 6:00. school didn’t start until 8, but I thought that I would need time to get ready. After the shower
© Copyright 2005 crissy (ilovetigger17 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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