What's That Sound
This Isn't The 1800s
Your Average Girl
Don't Make Me Go
Dress-Up Game
Alone With the Enemy
Some Strange Magic
You Only Live Once
What Are You?
A Wrong Turn
A Deal's a Deal
The Secret Inside
Helicopter, Helicopter
Mind Your Manners
A Maze and Delight
The Lost Seed
A Secret Escape
Getting Hot Inside
Seriously, What The
Got a Bad Feeling
Let's Try Something
Breathing is Overrated
In the Meantime
Nice Day for a Drive
Can't Turn Back
This Isn't The 1800s
The guy surveyed the view beyond the balcony, the last rays of setting sun drifting orange over the distant horizon and the ocean beyond. Then he looked up at the sky, muttered, "Damn," and swung over the rail.

"Wait!" I called, "You're... Bleeding."

But it was too late. He'd already disappeared over the ledge and out of sight into the darkness below.

Not only was the dude hurt, he'd just jumped like ten feet to the ground. Or more.

I stared after him another minute, but it was no use. Our yard led up into the hillside along a track of forested wildlands where it was so dark an entire army of creepers and monsters could be lurking, for all I could see.

It was actually an unnerving thought, that, and it wasn't the first time it had occurred to me. Yet another reason to hurry up and get window blinds.

Back inside, I picked up my phone. I was thinking to text someone, maybe one of my old friends back home. But what would I say? A hot dude fell out of the sky and kissed me and then jumped off my balcony? Yeah. Well, that about summed it up, but it did come off a little, uh, unbelievable.

I mean, fell out of the sky? Even I was starting to wonder if I was feeling right in the head. My hands were shaking and I had to sit down and take deep breaths in order to stop the blood from pounding behind my ears.

As I sat on the edge of my bed listening for more strange sounds, the front door creaked open below. Seconds later, Mom's voice chirped up the hall.

"Clara! We've brought take-out!"

That was another thing that had changed since the move. Since the inheritance, I should say. My parents used to cook a lot. Now eating was generally a forage-in-the-fridge while the folks are away kind of affair. I had to say, I'd become a much better cook over the past few months thanks to that.

But take-out. That was a family tradition I'd always loved and it still hadn't got old. As my parents unloaded cartons of Chinese food across the counter, I forgot all about the strangeness of the night.

"Clara, dear," my mother said, which was one of her more lately acquired mannerisms. I assume it made her feel more high class to talk that way and usually came before something else she associated with our newfound social status. So as I sat down at the table, maybe I shouldn't have been so surprised I nearly spit out my food at what she said. She said, "We've arranged an evening for you at the Whitley's estate. Their son, Mercurius, is just about your age and we trust you'll find him to be an excellent fit."

At that, I had to cough to stop from spraying noodles across the table.

"Mom! What--That's not funny!"

Mercurius. A name like that was not easy to forget. It was familiar not just in that it was unusual and my parents had spoken it once or twice, but also that he went to my school and lived in an even fancier house than ours and drove all the newest and most expensive cars, but more than that, it seemed every girl in class wanted to date him. I didn't get what they saw in that stuck-up jerk, but even if I had...

Still choking, I managed, "This isn't the 1800s! You can't just--" Dad clapped me on the shoulder until I caught my breath. Looking between the two of them, at their earnest faces peering into mine, I realized, "My God. You're serious, aren't you?"

It was Dad's turn. He said, "Your mother and I have been talking to his parents. They really are quite the fascinating company."

What, now even Dad was talking like he thought we lived in some historical drama.

"Clara," my mother said, eyes pleading, "The only polite thing to do was accept the invitation."

Oh great, just what I needed. My parents to set me up on a date. What if the dude was a total creep? I barely knew the guy. But then again... There had to be some reason other than money that all the other girls liked him.

Still. Even with all the changes that had happened lately, this was a new level of weird for my parents. Weren't parents supposed to want to protect their kids from the 'horrors' of dating and whatnot?

"At any rate," said my dad, "His mother is head of the neighborhood association. See that you make a good impression."

Woah, woah. No way. It was one thing when they were just setting me up because they felt like they had to. I'd believed it when Mom had said it was only polite. But if this was all some contrived attempt to earn a higher social status or something--

"Sorry, not doing it," I said, standing up.

But Mom stopped me from leaving, leveling her gaze with me and saying, "Clara. As long as you live under our roof, you live by our rules."

I'm ashamed to say I didn't have a good response to that. I found myself sitting silently back down, no longer hungry as I stared at my half-empty plate, wishing I had something smart to say and feeling all the while like this was so unfair, if only I could get them to see.

When I'd finally escaped back to my room, I stood looking at myself in the mirror.

"A good daughter does as she's told," I said to my reflection. Okay, so it wasn't exactly what my parents had said, but close enough. It's what they'd meant.

Flopping back on my bed, I stared up at the ceiling, watching the blades of the fan as they spun.

I swear. If any more crazy weird things happened in one day--

Suffice to say, it took me a long time to fall asleep.


Let me read to you!
Just a Kiss Chapter Two on Castbox

Or listen on my blog!


© Hopeful Romantic ,
книга «Just a Kiss».
  • По популярности
  • Сначала новые
  • По порядку
Показать все комментарии (2)
This Isn't The 1800s
I feel bad for if my parents ever said that I would have flipped I'm telling the truth no kid should have to go through that.
2018-06-20 05:04:06
This Isn't The 1800s
I love the way you write. Your tone and narrating is so fluent. Also, I prefer English speaking writers because for some reason my writers voice is British, so it's very refreshing to read. It's a pleasure that I started this and found you. I imagine this story has a lot more reads on wattpad. I usually only provide constructive criticism, so please dont take this lightly. You're the best writer I've come across since browsing other authors on wattpad and this platform. I'll make sure to rate you on Goodreads too. Bravo
2018-12-16 00:37:23