I'm sorry it took me so long to post Chapter 3. My computer had a really bad virus. Anyway, please read this chapter and tell me what you think!! Also, I'm thinking about changing the title of this story, so if you have any ideas tell me.
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Chapter 3
Abigail’s POV
It was seven forty five and I was getting ready to go to Ryan’s house. I’d just spent the last ten minutes straightening my medium-length brown hair. I was wearing a yellow tank top and a denim mini-skirt with red ballet flats.
I put on some pink lip gloss and went downstairs. Kevin was sitting in the living room watching TV. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“That’s none of your business,” I said, walking past him to the garage.
He followed me. “Don’t you, like, have a curfew or something?”
“Nope,” I said. I opened the garage door. There were only six cars in the garage, though there was enough room for eight. I walked down the row of cars and got into mine, which was a red Ferrari.
“Nice,” Kevin said, running his hand over the hood of the car.
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, see ya,” he said, walking away.
I started the car and backed out of the garage. Meanwhile, I saw Kevin admiring a shiny black Mercedes Benz.
I drove down the long, tree-lined driveway. I’d gotten my driver’s license the day after my seventeenth birthday, which had been a few months ago.
I turned onto Baker Street. I was actually rather excited to be going to Ryan’s house. He was my boyfriend, after all. And also, I wouldn’t be stuck in my house with Kevin.
Five minutes later, I arrived at Ryan’s house. I parked by the side of the road and got out of the car.
I heard a bark and looked to the direction it had come from, just as Ryan’s German shepherd, Roxy, slammed into me and knocked me to the ground.
“Hello, doggie,” I said, patting the dog’s head affectionately.
Roxy wagged her tail and licked my cheek.
“Eww,” I said, wiping the dog slobber off my face. I stood up and checked to make sure there wasn’t any dirt on me. Then I headed up the stone walkway to Ryan’s blue Victorian-style house. I rang the doorbell. After a few seconds, I heard footsteps inside the house and Ryan opened the door. “Hey,” he said, grinning.
“Hey,” I replied, stepping inside the house. Ryan pulled me into his arms and kissed me. When we broke apart, he grabbed my hand and we went into the living room.
“What movie did you get?” I asked him.
“Paranormal Activity,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. I liked that movie. I went into the kitchen and made microwave popcorn. Then I walked back into the living room and curled up next to Ryan on the couch.
Halfway through the movie, Ryan’s cell phone vibrated. He took it out of his pocket and looked at the screen.
“Who is it?” I asked him.
“No one important,” he said, placing the phone on the coffee table.
“Oh.” I glanced at the TV screen. The main character, Katie, was possessed.
“I’ll be right back,” Ryan said.
“Sure,” I replied. He got up and left the room. As soon as his footsteps faded away, I snatched his cell phone off the table and flipped it open. I knew it was foolish, but I wanted to know who had texted him. I felt like he was keeping a secret from me. I went to his inbox. At the top of the screen it said, NEW TEXT MESSAGE FROM JACKIE. I frowned. Who was Jackie? And more importantly, why was she texting my boyfriend?
I was about to click on the message when Ryan walked into the room. “What are you doing with my phone?” he asked.
“I just wanted to see who had texted you,” I said, snapping the phone shut.
“I told you it was nobody,” he said, taking the phone from me.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was just curious.”
He sat down and put his arm around me. “Forget about that, okay? Like I said, it’s not important.”
“Okay,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder. I turned my attention back to the movie.
I was still thinking about the Jackie incident on my way home. It bothered me that Ryan hadn’t told me who she was. He wasn’t the type of guy who would cheat on his girlfriend, but I was still uneasy. Maybe she’s his cousin, I told myself. Or one of his sister’s friends. It made me feel a little better, thinking that maybe she was just some girl he knew. Of course he wouldn’t cheat on me, I assured myself. He’d never do something like that.
When I got home, I went upstairs to my bedroom. It was ten thirty. The movie was only an hour and a half long, but we’d spent another hour eating chocolate ice cream and making out in Ryan’s bedroom.
I took a quick shower and got into some pajama pants and a t-shirt. I was really thirsty, so I went into the kitchen to get something to drink.
As I was pouring myself a glass of orange juice, Kevin walked into the kitchen. He was wearing red boxer shorts and no shirt. “So, you’re home,” he said, taking in my wet hair and pajamas.
“Well, duh,” I answered.
“May I ask where you were?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “Why do you care, anyway?”
“I don’t,” he replied.
“Whatever,” I said, taking a sip of orange juice.
“Do you always act like this?” Kevin asked.
“Like what?”
“Like a bitch,” he said.
“No,” I told him. “I’m just pissed off at you.”
“Would you care to elaborate?” he asked.
I leaned against the granite counter, trying not to stare at his muscular chest. “It should be obvious.”
He waited.
“You can’t just go around kissing other people’s girlfriends,” I started. “And even if you didn’t know that person had a boyfriend, you still shouldn’t kiss that person just because you felt like it. So that’s why I’m mad at you.”
“Okay,” he said. “So what do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know,” I said. And then, without really thinking about it, I stepped forward and kissed him.
At first he was surprised, but then he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me back. Just then I realized what I was doing. I struggled out of his grasp and slapped him on the face as hard as I could.
“What the hell was that for?” he protested.
Instead of answering him, I grabbed my glass of orange juice and ran upstairs.
It also needs some feeling to it so we as the readers have an idea of what's really going through there heads. You should most definitely continue this it's getting really good.
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