January Dreams by Carrigan Richards (best fiction books of all time txt) ๐
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- Author: Carrigan Richards
Read book online ยซJanuary Dreams by Carrigan Richards (best fiction books of all time txt) ๐ยป. Author - Carrigan Richards
Grabbing my backpack, keys, purse, coat, I breeze by my goodbyes to my dogs, all five of them, and run out the door. Luckily, my old as dirt car starts without too much issue and I carefully speed through the neighborhood to get to school, hoping I can get there before the bottom falls out. A storm is coming, and it doesnโt look like itโll be brief.
I scramble out of my car and rush to the front office. When I open the door, I see Mrs. McCarthy dressed in a pumpkin outfit. Crap. Itโs Halloween and Cherry is going to kill me. I completely forgot.
Mrs. McCarthy looks up, removes her glasses, revealing her brown eyes, and smiles. Her short brown hair makes her look like most of the female teachers around here, something I have always wondered about. Is it a requirement to have such short hair when you become a school administrator? Her makeup always looks like itโs permanently stained on her face.
โCan I help you?โ she asks in her Southern drawl.
โI need to sign in for a late pass,โ I say, panting.
A tall boy with cropped dark, brown hair fumbles through the door, almost tripping. Heโs wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans on his lean, muscular body. He is hot. Is he new? This school is huge, but how could I have missed him? Heโs not part of the popular crowd.
โIโm so sorry Iโm late,โ he tells Mrs. McCarthy as he makes his way behind the counter.
โItโs okay, Vincent.โ She smiles as she stands. โIโve got some errands to run so youโll be at the front desk for the remainder of the block. Oh, and this young lady needs to sign in.โ She winks.
Vincent turns around and seems to do a double take. His face turns pale as if heโs seen a ghost. Mrs. McCarthy grabs her purse and is out the door. He drops his backpack on the floor and when he looks up, our eyes lock. His eyes are beautiful. They are the color of the deepest part of the ocean. So blue they almost look black. He looks at me like heโs enamored or something and it makes my heart pound. My stomach starts fluttering like there are butterflies or freaking penguins flapping their wings in there.
He breaks our gaze and his eyes dart from mine to the sign-out sheet to the door and so on.
I smile. โHi, Vincent.โ
He blushes and mumbles a hello. I bite my lip and notice his hands are gripping the desk like itโs the only thing holding him up.
โIโm Megan. Can I sign in?โ
โS-sure.โ He clears his throat.
I hope he isnโt going to choke on his own saliva since itโs obvious how uncomfortable I make him. I donโt ever get this reaction from anyone, but I guess thereโs a first time for everything.
โJust fill this out.โ He points to a sheet of paper on a clipboard.
My hands are frozen so I try to fill out the form as best I can.
He urgently scribbles on a pink pad of paper and rips it from its base, handing it to me. โThey donโt ever read these things.โ
โThanks,โ I tell him.
Blood flushes his cheek and he looks away. โYouโre welcome.โ
I give a small smile. โYouโre a junior, right?โ
โYeah.โ
โHave we ever had a class together?โ
He shakes his head.
โWell, I really have to get to class. Um. It was cool meeting you.โ
As his seductive lips stretch into a warm, sexy smile, he meets my eyes and my body warms. โYou too.โ
I walk to class, smiling to myself, and thinking about what it would be like to kiss Vincent. His lips looked soft and I bet heโs a gentle kisser. Not that anything will come of Vincent and me, because nothing ever does, but itโs still nice to fantasize.
Chapter Two
Once the adrenaline wears off, grogginess sets in. I am not a morning person by any means, so I constantly yawn and grumble until about lunch.
I canโt believe I forgot my costume. I love Halloween. Iโm probably one of the five people not dressed up and it bums me out. Cherry and I got costumes. A bee for her and a ladybug for me. The bell rings and I make my way to my locker.
โWhere is your costume?โ Cherry demands as she props her hands on her hips. Sheโs adorable in her bee costume.
I give her an innocent smile. โIโm sorry. I forgot.โ
Cherry Stimm is my best friend since the fourth grade. And yes, she catches all kinds of grief over her name. We are by no means popular, but weโre not at the bottom of the pole either. So, I guess weโre doing pretty well in high school, even though we both hate it. We are not what they call โemoโ kids and dress in black and talk about how life sucks all the time. Weโre pretty happy kids, or average I guess, even though our parents cause enough stress to last a lifetime. Both of us come from divorced families, both sets of parents have remarried, we each have a sibling who used to taunt us constantly, we work at the grocery store together, we donโt have time for extracurricular activities at school, and we both love the arts. Sheโs the artist. Iโm the writer, obviously, since Iโm writing this.
โWhere were you this morning? I thought you were going to start coming to school earlier so we could chat before class.โ
โI overslept.โ
Her soft brown hair falls in loose curls past her small shoulders. A soft yellow ring circles the iris of her blue eyesโvery rare but I think itโs cool. It makes her unique. I am not so unique with long jet-black hair and Caribbean blue almond-shaped eyes. I have an oval face
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