Curly Headed Cutie

All Rights Reserved ©

Chp. 2: FML

The most notorious guy on school grounds, Travis Reel.

He’s a senior in high school and known for just about everything. Being super attractive and being a major badass are the more common one’s, and honestly, I done see it.

Sure, he’s attractive, but a badass??

I don’t think so...

Rumors have been told about him; one being said that he once murdered someone because he was blinded by rage.

And got away with it!!!

Although, that one seems a bit far-fetched....

....

Yeah, completely far-fetched...

People make up the craziest shit, I swear...

Moving on, a plethora of things have been said about Travis, and some of the more popular ones include him being involved in gang activity, street fighting, murder, as stated earlier, and being the school’s biggest player.

All of the girls love him or hate him so much that they can’t help but to love how much they hate him. That includes the guys too, they either hate his guts, or love the hell out of him for whatever reason.

Not only do people fond over his looks and “badass” like antics, but he’s also known as the school’s asshole. He’s completely unfiltered, doesn’t give a damn about anyone else’s opinions except his own.

He lives life on the wild side, doing what he wants when he wants, regardless of the consequences.

And I just spilled my drink on him...

“I just fucking bought this shirt.” He grumbles, and my knees buckle.

It’s not that I’m afraid of him, but more so just intimidated by his presence.

He’s the definition of trouble. The one thing I don’t want to get myself involved in ever.

He and Daniel really don’t like each other, I might add. They’re always fighting. Sometimes, they’ll physically fight too.

So, with that being said, Travis= trouble, and with trouble comes drama; and with drama, comes being in the spotlight.

Aka, center of attention.

The one place I’ve never been.

Being a nobody has that benefit. You’re safe from the drama.

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. My throat goes dry, and I gulp.

At this rate, I’m not going to be safe from drama for very long...

My heart is racing, my palms are sweaty, and I’m shaking like an overly excited chihuahua.

I grip my cup tightly in my hands, noticing people staring. Shock evident on their faces. The whole room has gone still now that I notice.

Great! Now I’m the center of attention!!!

Looking up to meet my eyes, Travis growls, face stern, “The fuck’s your-”

He stops mid-sentence, as his eyes stare into mine. All of the anger in his face dissipates and softens with curiosity.

I blush, as he says, brows furrowed, “Hey, you’re-”

“I’M SORRY!! I DIDN’T MEAN FOR THAT TO HAPPEN!!!!” I shout, interrupting him.

I take a step backwards, and the cup in my hands slips out of my grasp. The cup crashes into the ground, and more lemonade splashes onto my pants, as well as his.

He yelps, body tense. His eyes widen as he stares at his shirt again, “JESUS CHRIST!!!”

“I’M SORRY!! I’M SO SORRY!!!!” I reply, continuing to step away, my legs feeling like they’re glued to the ground.

Could this get any worse?!

He looks back at his shirt again, face stern, “Why the fuck is this shit pink?? It smells fruity!!”

My bottom lip quivers, as I just stare at him. He looks back at me, and his face softens again. He takes notice of my statue-like stance, and groans aloud.

He rubs his hand over his face, muttering, looking the other way, “Fuck me...don’t look at me like that...”

His eyes meet mine again, as he sighs, “Look, it’s not that big of a deal, okay? So, you can just relax, and-” “I SORRY FOR RUINING YE SHIRT!! FEEL BETTER SOON!! GOODBYE FOREVER!!”

Looking downward, I run past him.

“HEY! WAIT!” He shouts from behind me, but I keep going. I push my way past people as they stare.

I’m trying to get the hell out of here, people, move!!!

Eventually, I reach the front door and run outside. I continue pushing more sweaty, drunk teens out my way, despite the intense smell.

The whole incident begins to replay in my mind, over and over again. My ears and face burn intensely, as I run down the walkway.

“HEY! WHERE YOU GOING!!” Someone shouts from behind me as I run down the sidewalk.

The sound of crickets and the wind rustling through the trees fill my ears. I begin to slow down, coming to a stop sign.

I continue breathing heavily, my legs trembling. I stop, abruptly, hunching over, hands on knees. I pant, as the cool night air ripples through my hair and clothes slightly.

I take a few short deep breaths, standing upright. I look back towards the lit house down the street, and frown.

God, why are you so clumsy, Tiffany?

************************************

I shuffle my feet against the concrete, looking down at my pink Converse.

They were white by the way...

I sigh, sniffling a bit due to the cool night air.

I left my jacket back in Luka’s car. He’s the one who drove Daniel, Simon, Sebastian, and I to the party. Because I embarrassed myself, I didn’t go back and grab it.

“This sucks...” I mumble, tiredly. I look down the sidewalk ahead of me seeing the name of my street on a sign.

Franklin Avenue.

Thank God!!

Get me out of this hellish nightmare that is my night so far!!!

I smile, feeling less sour. After a little more time passes, I arrive in front of my house. I look over toward the garage, seeing Dad’s car parked in the driveway.

Quickly, I run through the yard, and onto the porch, stumbling a bit as I go. I dig in my pocket and pull out the house keys. I, carefully, insert the golden key into the lock, and turn it.

I yawn, as I push open the door, and step inside, “Hey, Dad! I’m home.”

I close and lock the door behind me and kick off my shoes. I look around the living room, not finding Dad anywhere. There’s a can of mellow-yellow on the table, and the Tv is on the Animal Planet Channel, but Dad’s nowhere in here.

That’s odd. His car is parked out front.

I raise a brow, feeling a little concerned, “Dad?”

I glance look toward the kitchen, seeing smoke flying out. My jaw drops, and I begin panicking, “OH MY GOD! DAD!!” I run into the kitchen, tripping over my shoes naturally.

As soon as I enter, I find Dad pulling out a pan of burgers.

I sigh with relief as he sets the pan down on the stove. He looks over at me, and smiles, “Oh! Hey, Anni, I didn’t know you’d be home so soon.”

“Lord, Dad, I thought you were burning the house down again.” I mumble, and he shoots me a look.

He rolls his eyes, “I wasn’t burning down the house the first time, something just burnt while I was baking.”

Jonah Green, AKA my father. I love him, he’s my support, and my everything. He’s done so much for us especially after Mom’s passing about a year ago. He was broken after she passed, everyone was, but he somehow made the best of things despite the pain.

I laugh, sitting at the kitchen table. Dad continues, “Anyway, where’s Daniel?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, he’s still at the party with the boys.” I reply, “I decided to come home early.” He nods, his brown eyes focused on making fries now, “Oh, well, how’d you get here?”

I tense up, instantly remembering the drink incident.

All too vividly I might add...

The stares, and eyeballs that felt like they boring into my soul.

The feeling of impending doom at the pit of my stomach as Travis just looked at me....

*shudders*

“I, um, I got a ride?” I reply, awkwardly. He looks back at me, eyes narrowed, and I simply gulp, looking everywhere but at him. There’s a long silent pause, and I can’t help but feel like he knows I’m lying.

He looks back at the skillet of fries, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Who?”

“I just got a cab.”

More like I ran home like my life depended on it!!!

However, I don’t want to tell my dad that mainly because I know how he’s going to react. He hates knowing that I was out in the dark by myself.

I’m 5′0, barely able to keep upright without stumbling, and don’t know the first thing when it comes to self-defense. So, I can understand his concerns.

However, I’m 17, I can handle myself.

If not by fighting, then by running.

“Oh, Tiff, you didn’t have to do that.” Dad states, turning to face me, concern in his eyes, “Why didn’t you just ask Luka?”

“Because Dad, he seemed like he was having fun. I’d hate to ruin that for him.” I reply, shyly, “All of the boys seemed like they were having a ball, so I just left on my own.”

Dad smiles, warmly. Walking up to me, he rubs my curly hair out of my face, and kisses my forehead, “Sweet, considerate Anni. What did I do to deserve a daughter so kind?”

I blush profusely, “Aw! Dad, stop! I wouldn’t say I’m that sweet, considerate, or kind.” He chuckles, stuffing his hands into jean pockets, “Alright, Anni, I’ll stop.”

He continues to stare at me, his eyes slowly softening with sadness, and yet with love at the same. His smile softens, as he says, gently, “You grow to look more, and more like her every day, you know that Tiffany.”

I blush, and smile, “Aw, Dad. Don’t say that!!! Ya’know how emotional you get.”

His eyes water as he turns to look the other way, “I do not.”

I laugh a little, a pain in forming in my chest as the memories of that day come rushing back. The loud ambulance trucks, the smell of burnt rubber, and gas. My vision darkened from the unexpected crash, and pain that came with it.

The hospital...

I ball my hands up into fists, as tears form in my eyes.

Mom passed from a car accident 3 years ago. I was in the accident when it happened. We were out shopping that day when a car smashed right into the side of us. I was in the hospital for months for a series of injuries. Mom was in critical condition when she was brought in and passed that same day.

I adjust my glasses, clearing my throat.

The memories still burden me today.

I take a deep breath, and smile warmly at him, as he continues, “She was beautiful...just as you are...”

Next Day...

“You think I should buy Rocky Road?” A Customer asks, showing me her menu. I shrug, awkwardly, “Um...depends. Do you like Rocky Road?”

“I don’t know.” She states, flatly. Her long brown hair sliding down her shoulders, “That’s why I asked.”

I stare at her, feeling slightly more awkward, “Oh, um...so you’ve never had Rocky Road?”

“No.”

“Do you wanna try Rocky Road?”

“No...not really.”

Then why...

“Then no, you shouldn’t buy it.” I reply, nodding slowly, brows furrowed.

Sometimes, I question why I put up with people and their strange thinking...

Hell, even I question my own thinking!

A little too much if I were being honest...

“Okay!” She says, smiling warmly. She then stares at her menu, thoughtfully, and I sigh.

The Desserts & Ice Cream Parlor

Aka, my job. I work as a cashier instead of in the kitchen which hurts my pride a lot. I love baking with a passion, and it’s my dream to become a baker, and start my own bakery.

So, I would love to work back there, but my manager doesn’t particularly like me for whatever reason. She’s around my age and hates my guts.

Her Mom, somehow, paid for her daughter to become manager.

Super petty if you ask me...

I sigh, waiting for someone else to come up, and ask a weird question. Suddenly, my phone vibrates, and I reach into my apron pocket. Pulling it out, I read my notifications.

Luk<3

Hey! I was wondering if you wanted to talk about what happened last night. You were acting weird when we asked.

I heave a long sigh, turning my phone off, and slipping it back into my pocket.

After last night’s fiasco, Daniel came home earlier than usual at 1, along with the boys. They were all worried about me and had asked why I left.

Of course, I didn’t tell them it was because of Travis making an appearance, and simply stated ‘I was tired’.

Like I said, Daniel and Travis really don’t like each other. Sebastian, Simon, and Luka are also not big fans of him too. That also includes his friends, Christian, and Joshua. If I had told them, an unnecessary war would pop off.

The bell to the door jingles loudly, and I turn to face it, “Hello! Welcome to Desse-”

I break out into a cold sweat as he walks in, his demanding presence filling the room. His outfit is completely black making his jade green eyes pop. Not to mention the brow piercing.

Holy Fuck! Travis is here!!

He grabs a menu from a nearby empty table, and I blush. Immediately, I turn around, breathing heavily. I gulp, as my mind begins to race.

What am I supposed to do?!!

Maybe he doesn’t even remember me from last night...

Maybe I’m panicking for no reason...

I take a deep breath, “He’s just a boy, Tiffany, relax...”

“Um, Tiffany, the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I look up, meeting mahogany brown eyes, and a snarling face. She continues, “You’re supposed to be working, not standing here like a lump on a log.”

Amelia Redwood, AKA Jennifer’s cousin. She’s just as bitchy, if not worse.

She is also my manager, sadly...

“I-I- I was just seeing when my lunch break is,” I lie, and she stares at me, eyes narrowed.

“Right...” She says, rolling her eyes. She takes a peek at her watch, “Your lunch break is in a few minutes, not that you need it. You don’t do anything around here except take orders.”

See, bitchy for no reason.

Sometimes I wonder who’s peeing in her cereal every morning because she’s just so damn irritating...

She looks over my head, noticing people murmuring things. Her eyes brighten as she squeals, “No fucking way! Travis Reel is in my goddamn shop! Move!”

Grabbing my shoulders, Amelia pushes me over to the side. I stumble, as I turn, and glare at her.

I oughta push her ass back...

She stands at the register, batting her eyes, “Hey Travis! What can I get for you today??”

Turning to face her, Travis raises a brow, “Huh? Oh, hey Amelia. I haven’t decided what I want just yet.”

He looks over in my direction, and we make eye contact. His brows furrow softly, and my heart jumps. He stares at me for what feels like forever, and I try to function as normal as possible.

I clear my throat, adjusting my glasses, “Um, is there something wrong sir?”

If there’s nothing wrong with you, then you should know there’s definitely something wrong with me...

“I...I know you,” He says, thoughtfully, a look of amusement in his eyes. Amelia looks from him to me, angrily, “You know this nobody?”

Ouch.

True, but ouch.

He rolls his eyes at her last statement, and continues, eyes still locked on mine, “You’re that girl. That girl from last night.”

Okay so he does remember me...

FML.

He continues staring at me thoughtfully, “Yeah...the one with the pink shit in your-”

“No! I think you may have the wrong person! Have a good day sir!” Quickly, I turn away, speeding off.

“Wait!!” He calls out, but I don’t stop.

I walk off to the back of the store as fast as my stubble legs can take me. Walking into the break room, I close the door behind me.

Taking a deep breath, I press my back against the door, pushing up my glasses.

He recognized me...

This cannot end well.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered publisher, providing a platform to discover hidden talents and turn them into globally successful authors. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books our readers love most on our sister app, GALATEA and other formats.