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Sluggishly my eyes drift shut. The need for him to be there is intense. He just had to go, just had to leave me, to be with her. It’s not like it was his choice (well not really, at least I don’t think having a good heart counts as a choice) but I understand that she needs him more. Stella Dylia, his ex-girlfriend, had just found out that her mother was diagnosed with some sort of incurable cancer. I guess that he is the closest thing to a true friend that she has. Stella is an only child raised by her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Dylia, who take both of their jobs a little too seriously, one a lawyer and the other a rocketing writer. She is one of those girls who hides behind a mask, specifically a mean-girl kind of armor, and only is her real self when she thinks no one can see her. It’s especially simple for her since she is totally gorgeous. She has lengthy gold curls with intense baby blue eyes, add her high cheekbones plus a bod that any cheerleader would kill for and you get a perfect disguise that is easy to hide behind. A few people have seen Stella the way she really is, which is where Cory comes in.
Cory Mueller is what you would call my boyfriend (of ten months and counting) but he says that the more descriptive term for us is soul-mates. He is the eldest of seven in his family and was raised for the most part of his life only by his father, his mother died after giving birth to the youngest, Mary. One of my favorite and least favorite things about him is his enormous compassionate heart. I mean it is good because I’m a complete sucker for sweet guys but it’s not so cool when I have to spend an entire day without speaking or seeing him. He does a lot of charity work and will help anyone who needs it, having six siblings doesn’t make this situation better either. Cory has sandy blonde hair with dark navy eyes that are so full of powerful care that it overwhelms me every time mine meets his. I make an involuntary sigh because suddenly my mind is traveling to a flashback of us.
The first time I met him… was when I accidentally forgot that my chemistry period was after geometry, the class I was supposed to be at. Ok so I mean give me a break, it was my fourth or fifth day of my freshman year. It is not like someone else had done this already, I’m just saying. Well anyways, I was walking to Mr. Kislley’s classroom and then I tripped clumsily (I know, it was a total epic fail but who said I was graceful?) on a stupid gray mechanical pencil. But while I was busy trying to keep off the dirty tile, everything I was carrying was doing a great job of ending up on the floor. That’s when Cory comes over and helps gather up all of the stuff I dropped. When I realized who was helping me, I froze. I’ve hear about Cory Mueller, he was the school’s all-star. My friends all squeal about how hot he is and how he’s a major jock all the time at our corner lunch table, it is really annoying since that’s pretty much all they do. Well, he was way more better looking than what any of my friends described I thought when I looked at harder at him. After about a minute, feeling more like an hour, of staring I realized that he was talking to me.
“Are you alright?,” he asked in a worried tone. “Hello?”
“Oh, hey, sorry. Um… yeah I kinda tripped…,” I answered very lamely.
“I see that, what’s your next class? The bell is going to ring in a minute so I have to go but are you all right?”
“Uh yeah, uh huh. I’m ok and thanks for helping me, this is totally embarrassing. Uh I was just going to chemistry… oh shoot! Aw man, I’m going to the wrong class!”
“Oh well my next class is in Mr. Kislley’s room so maybe he could write you a pass? Hey excuse my manners, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Cory Mueller. What is yours?”
Ding Ding Ding, the bell rang, telling every class was to start. I remember stuttering my name out and then were walking into the busy room. Mr. K was cool and gave me a pass while reassuring me that loads of kids do this every single….
Ding, dong! Ding, Dong! My daydream is interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. Opening my eyes is a little difficult but I manage. “Maybe its him!,” I tell myself suddenly. I jump off the tan couch and end up falling on my face, smashing it into the soft white carpet my mother ordered to be put into the living room last year. I get right back up after remembering my motivation , Cory. I open my front door.
Thinkin' and Daydreamin'