The Love Forest novel Chapter 2

Meet Brooklyn, my one and only awesome and down-to-Earth Asian best friend. Not that I don't have anymore friends but she's that one friend that I could never ever replace and the one that I can't live without. Duh, I'm sure everyone has that friend. Moving on, I don't even know how or when we became friends because we're quite the opposite if you ask me. She's a girly girl; I'm a tomboy. She plays footsies; I play football. She fixes her make up; I fix car engines with my Dad. A kind of a cliche best friend story in movies and books.

"For the last time Brooks, sweatpants and hoodies are more comfortable than wearing a skirt. And no, there's a difference between a pajama and sweatpants," I defended as I glanced at her choice of outfit today. She's wearing a black, pencil skirt with a tight cute yellow shirt tucked in. I made a note to myself that I would never wear a skirt to school unless it's necessary and required. How am I supposed to run around and move absentmindedly if I'm wearing a dang skirt!

"Well then what's the difference? I bought some sweatpants a year ago, promising myself that I would work out everyday, but guess what? I found it yesterday on the back of my closet with the price tag still attached!"

"Oh I thought you were pregnant! You scared me!" I said jokingly.

"Hey!" she frowned and punched me in the arm as I laughed.

"Can I please borrow the extra clothes you have?"

"You don't even have to ask. Here." she thrusted a paper bag in my hand. "Let's go to the restroom."

I saw a couple girls gazed at me with disgust and whispered to each other as they strides past us.

"Would you look at those nonjudgmental looks you're getting," she said sarcastically.

"Whatever. I don't care what people think." I shrugged honestly, and slammed my locker shut, with my free arm as the other carries my books and binders for the next class that I have. I really don't care.

"Sure you don't. You just don't wanna admit that I'm right, and you should've listen about bringing extra clothes to school! Hah!" she pointed a finger at me.

"Seriously, Brooks. I could never understand humans. We try to impress those who don't even like us. I'm sure nobody really cares about my outfit, nobody would notice."

But I was wrong. As we stroll around the hallway, almost everyone stopped engaging whatever they're doing and glared at me, the girl who's wearing sweatpants.

I envy those school where clothes wouldn't matter. Where you could just wear whatever you want, maybe even pajamas and old, faded oversized shirt and nobody would judge it. But this is reality. People will always criticize you no matter how hard you try, so why try?

"Changing the subject, did Mrs. Sanchel give you a tardy for being late today?" she asked when we've entered the bathroom. I locked one of the stalls changing while Brooks checks out herself in the mirror and redos her make up.

"No, actually she was also late. I got there earlier than she did. I was so happy I almost started twerking! My attendance record was saved! Thank you, God! Oh thank you!" I recited dramatically, my voice bouncing through the stall door.

"You can't twerk, you're white." she snickered with humor behind her tone.

"How many times do I have to repeat that I am British! I just don't have a fancy tata accent because I was born here in the United States! I can twerk at this moment, want me to prove it?" I replied with a hint of challenge at the edge of my my voice.

Yep, Brook and I have the weirdest conversations ever. If somebody hears us, I'm sure we'll probably be locked up in a mental asylum by now.

With that dark hazel orbs with mischief and mystery dancing behind those eyes; that brown hair that falls messily on his ears and forehead; that sharp angle of jawline he has; his broad shoulders and his perfect body structure and muscles and abs bulging out. Let's not forget his signature smirk that makes the girls swoon over. And makes me wanna throw up.

Populars goes for its own kind. No surprise, he's currenly---or was-- in a relationship with Erin Maliek, the most popular girl in our school. In a relatioship with my cousin. Ladies and gentleman, the Erin Maliek, Cole's girlfriend, is my cousin. How shocking is that?

But to "protect" her reputation, she threatened me to never tell a soul about it. She said she doesn't want people to know that she's related to a freak like me. But nobody knows I guess except for Brooks. I don't know if she told the people she calls her "friends" or Cole, but I'm pretty sure not. To be honest, I don't want people to be knowing that I'm sharing the same blood with a devil's spawn anyways. We loathe each other and even our parents know that. We never tried to conceal our feelings towards each other. I really despise her more than I dislike Cole.

"Now he's single! He's free!" Brooks jumped with a dreamy eyes.

Upon hearing this news, I should be pleased and ecstasic, but I felt almost sorry for him. I saw how that poor guy loved her. How he treats her, the way he looks at her. Instead of being an awful boyfriend who secretly flirts and sleeps with other girls behind her back, Cole wasn't that type of guy. He may be annoying but he'll never do something like that. I know him.

"Since when?"

"Since this morning. Gosh, catch up, Ky!" she pushed her phone in my hand. "Here's the picture that Malia sent everyone. Look at Cole." she pushed a thumb on the screen. "He looks so...devastated."

"I can't see. Get your thumb out." I complained and slapped her hand away to get a better look.

On the picture was a figure with his head buried on a hand and the other hand is propping the wall as if he's gonna fall apart any minute. I recognize that person on the image instantly, and it was no other Cole. I mean who else would wear a blue varsity jacket with the letter ANDERSON sewn across the back? There is only one Anderson in the school who is known.