Some Kind of Imperfect
Miley knew she needed some balance in her life. Some "imperfect." So when player Nick Lucas asked her out, she eventually came around. Too bad she doesn't know about the bet. Then again, she did ask for imperfect.
The first things you notice are the scales.
They are beautiful; each perfectly crafted in such a way that they seem to gleam as the body moves. They are all different colors, but they still seem to maintain the same purple color. Some give off a green tint and some give gold. They are all just so pretty that you can't help but want to run them through your hands, relishing the texture between your thumb and your finger.
"It's all yours," Her mother says as she stares at the creature. Even though it's just a fish, Miley vows that she'll love it like it was any other pet. She smiles at her mother and looks towards the fish once again; marveling from its beauty.
"What are you going to name it?"
This stumps her. Miley doesn't want something boring and average, like "Fishy" or "Lavender," the color of the scales themselves. No, she wants something exotic and intriguing like the fish it's self. Something that is unsafe and exciting.
She sighs. "Lavender," she says. Because she doesn't do exotic or intriguing.
"I like it," her mother says. "Safe. A nice color, too. Good." Then she nods approvingly and leaves Miley in peace. She sighs and wishes that for once in her life she couldn't be perfect.
Ever since Miley was eleven, her mom has been pushing her to be perfect. She does it in subtle ways, but pushes her nonetheless. Miley's an honor student who is involved in drama and works at a library. Miley is nice and emotionless; much like her mother. Miley is always home on time and calls if she is late; Miley always does her hair just so and her makeup looks flawless.
Miley isn't practically perfect; she is simply perfect.
And – call her crazy – but she just wants a little imperfect sometimes. When her sister died from an overdose, she was forced to pick up the pieces and make up for the loss of her sister. She cried for two days straight before picking herself up and painting herself a very convincing mask.
She became solemn and emotionless, just like her mother. So it was "bye-bye" to fun, regular Miley and "hello" to the new, perfect Miley. How was she supposed to get back from that?
–
The smell of fresh paint and expo markers hits him as soon as he walks through the art door. He looks straight ahead where his stool is sitting right next to his friends. He smiles and looks to his right where his ex girlfriend, Penny, is sitting with her friends. His smile disappears and his eyes grow cold.
"Nick, my man!" He let his eyes travel to one of his friends, Joe. He smiles and walks over, sitting in his seat and greeting his friend. He loves his seat because it's in the back of the art room and he can just goof off all day.
"Joe!" He says, hitting his friend's hand and performing their handshake, "How was Kayla?" Nick raises his eyebrow and glances over at the teacher, making sure the lesson hadn't started. After all, he needs to know when to keep his voice down while he talks.
Joe shrugs in a nonchalant, un-caring way. "She was aight." Nick chuckles at his friend, shaking his head. Joe would find a way to turn sex with the hottest girl in the school into something non-exciting.
"Penny's staring at you." He looks at his friend's smirk and then at his girlfriend. Penny isn't just staring. Penny is glaring.
It was now Nick's turn to shrug.
"So?"
"It's kinda . . . weird."
Nick has to agree on that one. It is very weird.
"Good thing you banged her before you dumped her," Joe chuckles. Nick doesn't let the embarrassment show on his face, but Joe knows. Joe always knows.
Joe's laughing now. "You didn't, did you?" Nick has no choice but to shake his head.
"No, man, I didn't. Not that I wanted too."
Joe's laugh is getting louder now. "Didn't want to? Why the hell not?"
"I don't know!" Nick groans in frustration, "I just didn't. I could have if I wanted to, but I didn't."
Joe's laugh is so loud the teacher had to ask him to calm down. Once he finally does, he looks at Nick. "You think I really believe that?"
"You should," Nick hisses. "I could bang any girl I wanted."
Just then, a girl with long brown locks and glassy blue eyes walks in, carrying a late slip. Nick recognizes her as Miley Stewart and immediately dismisses her. Sure, she's hot, but she's also "perfect." A goody-goody. Not really his type of girl.
"Even her?"
Nick's eyes travel back to his friend. Joe's face is painted with a smirk and Nick knows this is going to get either very interesting or very ugly.
"I don't see why not," He answers.
A mischievous look replaces the smirk. "By prom?"
Nick calculates the time and figures out prom is in less than two months. "Probably."
"I bet you fifty bucks says you can't."
Nick weighs the bet in his head. He lets his eyes travel over to Miley, who took a seat in the front. He watches her as she pulls out her pencil, looking down at the instructions and up at the teacher. Then, he lets himself look at her. She has pretty hair and flawless skin. She has decent curves and long, lean legs. He imagines himself feeling those tan legs, letting his skin burn onto hers, as he kisses her. He pictures his hand sliding up her thighs and into her skirt and –
"You're on."
Yeah, it's kind of a cliché. You guys don't mind though, do you? ;D