DAY 18: Anne Mercier | 25 Days of Christmas
On the eighteenth day of 25 Days of Christmas, Anne Mercier gave us sneak peek into the first chapter of her upcoming book Kiss This!!
CHAPTER ONE
Today is a beautiful day. I’m lying on a chaise out by the pool, reading a romance book, and listening to music. It’s like I’m living a dream yet somehow this has become my life. The sun’s hot, the air smells like coconut from our suntan lotion, and, thankfully, there’s a breeze that makes the heat tolerable. We’re teenagers. We live to torture ourselves by lying in the sun to get a tan that makes us look sexier.
This book is pretty far-fetched—clichéd. I mean, seriously, who falls in love with a hero like this? He’s a total dick. Every time he speaks, I want to cut out his tongue. Harsh? Yeah, but he is cruel and heartless. Oh, and he’s a manwhore. Why would anyone want to waste their time on a guy like that?
I guess I can maybe sorta see the appeal. The whole “bad boy” thing. But it’s not something I even need to worry about. I’m not necessarily a nerd per se… I just prefer to hang out with fictional characters than interact with real people. Bad boys don’t look twice at girls like me. I’m shy around guys… and awkward, definitely awkward. I’m not bad to look at—at least I don’t think so. My friends tell me I’m pretty, so I must look okay. I’ve got long, black wavy hair and green eyes. I’m five feet, four inches tall, and I weigh one-fifteen. I’m average.
I don’t know. The whole “bad boy” vibe always hits me wrong. Maybe I’m jealous. Maybe I subconsciously want the bad boy to fall for the odd one like me. If that’s what’s going on with me, I need to have a stern talk with myself. That only happens in fiction. Hot guys—at least around here—are arrogant pricks who think they’re God’s gift.
And they’re not. Far from it.
I wish I could talk to my friends about things like this, but they already think I’m weird. I’m not boy crazy and I don’t really like socializing. I’ve only lived here in Shell Beach, California, for the last two months and I don’t want them to not be my friends anymore.
I’m not sure how we got to being friends. Somehow, one day at the mall, I was shopping for outfits to wear in this hot weather when Audrey, who’s about five nine, long beautiful red hair, and a body full of curves I’ll never have, looked at the outfit I had in my hand and shook her head no. Then Isla walks up, takes the outfit and hangs it back on the rack. “Over here,” is what she said, then they led me to clothes I’d never in my entire life considered wearing. Ever since that day, my aunt Carmen has been their biggest fan.
“We’re going to that party tonight,” Audrey, announces from the chaise next to mine, before taking a drink of her water.
“Oh yes, yes we are,” Isla agrees. She’s so excited she’s all-but bouncing.
I cringe and say nothing. Another party? No thanks. I’ve been to a few already this summer and they just aren’t my thing. I like the bon fires alright, but the guys when they get drinking are no fun to be around.
“All the hot guys are going to be there. It’s both Shell Beach Hall and Academy,” Audrey tells us.
“They’re going to fight. I have no doubt about it,” I declare.
“Of course they are. Especially since the jocks got back from their summer camps. They can fight and then we get to soothe them and make it all better,” Isla purrs.
“I’ll pass.”
“Not this time, Jillian,” Audrey declares.
My head snaps toward her. She used my full name. She never uses my full name unless she’s annoyed or going to be a bossy bitch. “What?”
“You’re going.”
“No way. Not my scene,” I remind her.
“Make an exception. You need to get yourself out there. School starts on Monday.”
I groan.
“We’re going to pick your outfit and you’re going to leave that gorgeous hair down instead of your permanent ponytail or messy bun,” Audrey decrees.
“But… I don’t want to. I’d rather stay home and read about this asshole hero—that’s how much I don’t want to go.”
“Too bad,” Isla announces. “Your ass is going and you’re going to like it.”
“You can’t make me like it.”
“Nope, but we can sure make you go!” Audrey guarantees.
Ugh. Did I say dream? Nightmare is more accurate.
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