Every Me And Every You:
Chapter One: Silver Meets Hazel
She saw the blonde boy stroll into the room. He looked confident, yet highly uncomfortable at the same time. Two heavy-set boys were close behind him. Slowly, she stopped paying attention to what her friends were saying; just looking at him.
"Ana, are you okay?" Her best friend Ashley asked.
"Am I ever okay?" A sly smile crept upon her lips; her eyes twinkled as they always do when she smiles.
"Whom are you staring at?" Ashley inquired, finally looking in the direction the other girls' eyes were staring.
"Excuse me a moment." She got up from the table and slowly sauntered over to where the blonde boy was sitting. She'd noticed him watching her; still watching her, even as she was walking towards him.
"What do you want?" He asked irritably as soon as she approached him. He sounded British. Or Australian. She could never tell the difference.
"What can I say? Your charm lured me over here." She sat down next to him, their shoulders almost touching. She'd never been afraid of boys, or confronting them. Boys were easier to deal with than girls to her.
"So you have good taste. Mind if I ask your name?" He turned his head towards her. His silver-blue eyes started deeply into her hazel ones, as if pondering her existence.
"I'm Ana. And you are?"
One of his little…well, big…friends was about to answer for him, but with one quick movement of the boy's hand, he became quiet.
"Drake. My name's Drake."
"Well, Drake," She doubted that was his real name, "Where are you from?"
"What do you mean, where am I from?"
"You sound British."
"Maybe that's because I am."
"That's nice." She sighed. "I'm bored."
"Why is that my problem?"
"Did I say it was?"
"No, but…"
"Good. Shut your mouth. Well, see you guys around." She leaned down close to "Drake" 'sear, and put in, very seductively may I add, "Especially you."
Ella prende las turbinas
No discrimina
No se pierde ni un party de marquesina
Se asicala hasta pa' la esquina
Luce tan bien que hasta la sombra le combina
Asesina, me domina
Janguea en carros, motoras y limosinas
Llena su tanque de adrenalina
Cuando escucha reggaeton en las bocinas
A ella le gusta la gasolina
(Dame mas gasolina!)
Como le encanta la gasolina
(Dame mas gasolina!)
A ella le gusta la gasolina
(Dame mas gasolina!)
Como le encanta la gasolina
(Dame mas gasolina!)
Sounds of Daddy Yankee's "Gasolina" were heard coming from her room.
"Ana, darling, turn that down please." Her mother asked, coming into the room.
"Fine, it's almost over anyway." Ana replied, turning off her stereo system.
"I have someone to introduce to you." Her mother smiled her "You're not going to like this, but I sure am,"she smiled.
"Is he hot?"
"Ana, don't be rude…but yes, he is hot."
"Mom, let me just tell you now: If you have anything planned between him and I, I will track you down and murder you. I know where you live. Down the hall."
"Why would I have something planned, my sweet child?" Her mother fluttered those long eyelashes of hers, and tried to act innocent.
"What school does he go to? What's his age, grade level, and boxer size."
"He goes to a school called Hogwarts. You've never heard of it, trust me. He's 16, in his sixth year, and he's a size…wait a minute…what? His boxer size?"
"Never mind. It's old now."
"You just asked me five seconds ago."
"Yes, and now it's old. What is so fucking hard to understand?"
"Do you want to know what his name is?"
"Not really."
Her mother ignored her, and continued on. " His name is Harry Potter."