HEY EVERYONE! Could you, after reading this, possibly, go read my One Direction story?(: Please?(: THANK YOU!
*Fletcher's POV*
"Ever since Olive went into ballet with me, I've been thinking of her so differently," Angus told me, as he clipped another one of his toenails. The toenail jumped at my face, and ended up in my eye.
"ANGUS, watch where you shoot those things!" I say as he launches another one.
I know what he means, Angus, Olives been different, graceful, sweet, caring- even more so than before...
WAIT, no, Fletcher. Shes Olive, you can't like her... You like Chyna.
"You know, I think its about time that me and Olive go out," Angus says, as you laugh inside, he'd never go out with her.
"Now that I have the brain washer, shes BOUND to go out with me," he adds. Suddenly, a huge amount of some feeling rages inside of me, jealousy? NO. It can't be.
I gulp, "yeah, you should ask her out."
"You think man?" He asks me honestly. This kind of makes me want to punch him in the face.
"Yeah, go for it."
Just as I say that, Olive walks in in a pink dress, that looks beautiful on her. NO WHAT ARE YOU SAYING FLETCH!
Angus walks over to Olive, and I just sit and watch as he persuades her.
Hes being such a dork, the only reason shes swooning is because of that STUPID brainwasher.
I have to save her.
"OLIVE! Whats the capital of Wisconsin?" I ask, getting her out of her trance.
"Wisconsin? Madison, obviously, did you kn-," then, Angus does what I never thought he would. He places his greesy, slimey, lips onto hers.
"YUCK ANGUS! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" She screams, as she spits on the floor.
"BING," Angus says, and walks back towards me.
Olive runs out of the room, probably to sanitize her mouth.
Jealousy rages again inside of me.
"What was that?" I angerly scream.
"Well, you see, the brain washer thing says 'you'll know if shes your true love, if she lets her kiss you', so I guess me and Olive aren't ment for eachother," he eagerly explains.
"Really?" I say with an annoyed look painted onto my face.
"You like Olive," he says.
"Nuuhh," I say, is it really that obvious?