Blurring the Lines
Prologue
If you're looking for the story of the pretty girl who unrealistically goes unnoticed, has one friend and falls in love with the hot jock with a perfect personality who just so happens to be a badass player, as well as a vampire/ghosts/zombie/werewolf/gangster, this is definitely the wrong story.
Or perhaps, you're looking for the story of the actual kind of girl who goes unnoticed, has a few close friends, works too hard with little in return and avoids boys as if they were the plague. Just an average girl. If so, then you've definitely found the right story.
There isn't much you could consider “average” about me, I guess. Above average smarts, the less than average amounts of friends, above average weight and an odd family. Then again, average isn't exactly what people want to be anymore. In the nineteen fifties, maybe, but definitely not the twenty first century. Despite everybody trying to stand out and be themselves, they're simultaneously trying to squish themselves to conform to the ideals of everyone else. If they're not trying to contradict themselves too much, they just simply strive to get by under the radar and keep to themselves from fear of ridicule.
I am one of the people who falls into that second category. I enjoyed it, usually, until it's just one of those days when I decide to speak up and make a joke out of myself. I'd learn my lesson and keep my trap shut for the rest of the semester until I felt brave enough to make the mistake again.
I seemed to have inherited these introverted qualities from my mother, since my father could talk to a brick wall all day long, response or not. He loved to socialize and party, when he wasn't busy being a real life Dr. McDreamy at Kingsley Medical Center. Even though women came and went throughout his life, I was his number one girl and when it came down to it, it was truly my decision whether his lady friends stayed or left.
Of course, the opposite sex never an issue from my end until one weaseled his way into my life. The weasel, known to most as Walker Lovenbury, had been my “arch nemesis” since the first grade, when he not-so-subtly told me that I didn't need anymore cookies since I was fat enough already. I threw a few fists and the two of us landed in the principals with cuts, bruises and a proud father. Ever since then, everything was a competition between us. I don't really know if I could call it a competition because the weasel just so happened to be a know-it-all smartass with the tendency to be a pretentious douchebag who beat me at just about everything.
So while my father was gallivanting around town and sweeping women off their feet, I was trying to keep mine out of Walker's ass while secretly tutoring him in English.
When my friends start dealing with guys, their problems are next to nothing. So when Walker meddles into my life, something has to go wrong. I just can't figure out if making out with him behind our dating parents' backs or that I'm falling in love with him is worse.
Or perhaps, you're looking for the story of the actual kind of girl who goes unnoticed, has a few close friends, works too hard with little in return and avoids boys as if they were the plague. Just an average girl. If so, then you've definitely found the right story.
There isn't much you could consider “average” about me, I guess. Above average smarts, the less than average amounts of friends, above average weight and an odd family. Then again, average isn't exactly what people want to be anymore. In the nineteen fifties, maybe, but definitely not the twenty first century. Despite everybody trying to stand out and be themselves, they're simultaneously trying to squish themselves to conform to the ideals of everyone else. If they're not trying to contradict themselves too much, they just simply strive to get by under the radar and keep to themselves from fear of ridicule.
I am one of the people who falls into that second category. I enjoyed it, usually, until it's just one of those days when I decide to speak up and make a joke out of myself. I'd learn my lesson and keep my trap shut for the rest of the semester until I felt brave enough to make the mistake again.
I seemed to have inherited these introverted qualities from my mother, since my father could talk to a brick wall all day long, response or not. He loved to socialize and party, when he wasn't busy being a real life Dr. McDreamy at Kingsley Medical Center. Even though women came and went throughout his life, I was his number one girl and when it came down to it, it was truly my decision whether his lady friends stayed or left.
Of course, the opposite sex never an issue from my end until one weaseled his way into my life. The weasel, known to most as Walker Lovenbury, had been my “arch nemesis” since the first grade, when he not-so-subtly told me that I didn't need anymore cookies since I was fat enough already. I threw a few fists and the two of us landed in the principals with cuts, bruises and a proud father. Ever since then, everything was a competition between us. I don't really know if I could call it a competition because the weasel just so happened to be a know-it-all smartass with the tendency to be a pretentious douchebag who beat me at just about everything.
So while my father was gallivanting around town and sweeping women off their feet, I was trying to keep mine out of Walker's ass while secretly tutoring him in English.
When my friends start dealing with guys, their problems are next to nothing. So when Walker meddles into my life, something has to go wrong. I just can't figure out if making out with him behind our dating parents' backs or that I'm falling in love with him is worse.