Author's Note: This is my first Haleb story, so I'm sorry if it seems a little contrived. I hope you enjoy it!
Prologue
"Wait! Please don't go!" he called after her.
She didn't slow down, or look back. She was going as fast as she could clad in lace stiletto ankle boots. "Why shouldn't I? You're just like every other damn guy I've done. You're just looking for an easy hookup. And even if you do happen to be a decent guy, you're going to ask me to change who I am. Haven't you ever heard the saying 'You can't turn a whore into a housewife'? I'm a whore, okay? I'm a whore, and a skank, and a slut, and whatever word you decide you want to call me. I don't know why I expected you to understand. You're not like me; you wouldn't understand," she rambled, trying to distance herself as much as possible.
"That's not true. I wouldn't want to change anything about you," he insisted.
She slowed down a little, not sure whether she was giving into him or the crying of her feet. "Society would. Nobody would ever accept me in a relationship. Whores are supposed to be someone you see only in the dark. They're not the people you'd want in your life regularly; they're just a one night stand. They're not the people you want to be around constantly. It's like people think they'll catch a disease or something," she mumbled.
"I don't see you in that way," he assured her.
She sighed. She finally stopped and sat on the curb of the sidewalk. "Why don't you? What makes you so different? Why are you so nice to me? I'm a whore…I know it, okay?" she inquired.
"I don't know what's different about you. You're funny…you're pretty…I just like being around you. Is there something wrong with that? And you're not a whore," he added. "It's your job. It's not what defines you."
"My father used to say that it's your life choices which define you. I think that speaks wonders for my persona," she retorted sarcastically.
He shook his head, sitting down next to her. "I think you're the one who's scared. You're scared that this could be real, and that you might disappoint me. But what you don't realize is that I've met all of Hanna Marin, and I love her," he insisted.
She looked over to him. "You do?" she asked, not attempting to keep any surprise out of her voice.
He nodded. He was stunned when she came over and kissed him softly on the lips. "I thought you don't kiss?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I don't," she answered, looking down. "But this is different."
They would've been able to bask in the afterglow. If not for the incessant buzzing of his phone.
"You should probably get that," she suggested.
Though he didn't want to, he complied. It was a text message from Toby. She could tell something was wrong when she saw his eyes widen.
"That's Toby. It's Spencer," he began.
Her heart dropped fifty stories at the sound of her best friend's name. "What about Spencer?"
"She overdosed."
If you liked it, please review/favourite/follow! -Kayson