A Beautiful Lie Chapter one

Dani has moved from cold Alaska, to the warmth of California. Her sadness has gotten to her over her loss of someone very important. but will she find what she expects or will it be completely different?

 

      "BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!" My alarm clock shrilled for the tenth time. It's Monday my first day as a junior at a new school, and I still can't get over the nervous feeling I have. I've been to at least twenty different school since I was about eight years old. Today was just like any other first day I had ever experienced, but I couldn't get over this feeling of strangeness.

"Dani, come on! You're gonna be late. It's all ready 6:30," my dad bellowed from down stairs. I groaned, school started at 7:30, and I was sure I needed that hour to get ready, so I climbed out of bed and staggered to my bathroom. I've never been a morning person, especially when I look in the mirror.

 

      I never take the time to admire my bathroom even though it's enormous just like the rest of my house. I moved into this house at the beginning of the summer, but I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed and make friends let alone admire any other part of the house. The bathroom is painted a sky blue, just to make the room brighter since all the furnishings are a dark cherry wood or black marble. I got the water just right, warm but not too steamy, and took a quick shower. I finished my shower in about fifteen minutes which is a miracle in my eyes, I've never taken a shower in less than twenty. I reluctantly got out feeling a little refreshed. I wrapped a fluffy purple towel around me and walked over to my vanity table. The table was almost as large as my dresser on the other side of the room and both were made of solid oak. I went to work on taming my natural black hair as soon as I sat down in front of the mirror. My hair swings down around my waist and I have a tough time trying to dry it. It usually takes me half an hour but seeing as I only have 45 minutes I decided to just towel dry it and let the natural wave take over. After my hair started looking almost normal, I carefully applied some mascara, eyeliner, and smokey eye shadow. When I finished that, I ran to my gigantic walk in closet and grabbed my favorite black and purple baby-doll tee and my grey hoodie, with a pair of American Eagle ripped jeans, and of course my favorite pair of purple converse.

 

        At my last school I never really fit in with anyone, but of course my last school wasn't in California either. I use to go to a private school in Alaska. It was kind of boring, that is if you consider boring a lot of drama between a lot of girls because it was an all girl school. I hated it because of all the drama.

        My dad works as some kind of weather guy, only he doesn't do television, he studies drought patterns and things of that sort. My mom left us one day when I was young. She just decided that she didn't like moving around so much, but I was never really close to her. I have always been closer to my dad because my mom use to force people on me, like those cutesy little mama's girls. Mom would always set up little play dates, and they would all go wrong. I remember one play date like it was yesterday.

       "Daniella," my mother shrieked.

"Daniella Marie Hinson," she shouted louder.

"What mommy," I asked quietly walking into the kitchen. I have never been a loud person, unless provoked.

"I met a woman at the market today she had a little girl about your age,” I was five or six at the time.

"Do you think we'll be friends mommy," I asked hopefully.

"Yes sweetie you two should get along nicely," she answered. A couple hours later, that little girl walked in pulled my hair, tried to make me her doll, and then poked me in the eye.

       Not even when I was little, was I ever the type of girl to wear pink, and let my mom fix my hair up all cutesy. I never liked being girly, but that's always the kinds of friends she pushed at me. The little girl came over that day in a pink puffy dress and her long blond hair pulled up into messy curls on top of her head with treadles a long her face. She was one the the cutest little girls I had ever seen, even to this day. My sister got along with her just fine because my sister has always been the exact opposite of me. I also remember my best friend for the summer before my parents split. My dad had taken me to the park and I was playing on the swings all alone because there wasn't really anyone else around. I played contently by myself. I liked being alone better even at eight years old. It kept me out of trouble unlike my sister who liked to be in the middle of everything. I remember the little girl that showed up with her mom, or at least I thought it was her mom. She came and sat on the swing next to me and smiled warmly.

“Hi, my name is Becca, what's yours,” she asked sweetly. She was so pretty in her black tank top and her white fluffy skirt. She had brown hair that looked to be nearly black and gorgeous hazel green eyes. “Hi, I'm Dani,” I said a bit shyly. I'd never met a person my age outside of my home and I liked this girl better than I'd like the others that Mom brought home. We played for a while as Dad talked to her mom. Soon we both had to leave, but Dad and her mom had planned to meet at the park the next day. Becca and I begged to come back everyday for the rest of the summer until her mom told us she was moving and my dad told her I was moving too. Dad gave her mom an address for Becca to keep so she could get letters to me and things. I received my first letter from her a week after we parted.

       I was going to have to deal with a lot of those kinds of girls today, I mean the girly girls, and especially this year considering I am in the Barbie capitol of the world. I got dressed and went down stairs. I grabbed a chocolate chip pop tart and walked out of the house to find my bus stop. Yeah, I ride the bus because what's the use in having a car when you move almost three times a year. Duh!
        I found the bus stop, that's luckily located only a block from my house, with ease. I started to put my messenger back down when I glanced up. Beside the sign that read bus stop stood a boy, not just any boy, this boy seemed like a god! Let me explain, the way he stood leaning against that pole, the way his dark brown hair caught in the sun and glimmered gold, not to mention the way his muscles shown through that tight black tee. He was to die for. I couldn't get a glimpse of his face though. 
        I couldn't take my eyes off of the boy, but I didn't realize I was starring at him until he spoke. "You know how you can just sense when people are starring at you. Don't you hate that feeling," he said with out even taking a glance at me. I felt the blood rise to my face as I blushed, and out of habit I looked down hiding my face.

"Sorry, I don't usually do that," I said in my normally quiet voice.

"Are you shy or something," he asked finally turning to look at me.

"No, I'm just a quiet person. Actually I think you should feel lucky I've said this much," I said again in that quiet tone, only with more bitterness this time. He was beautiful, but then he just seemed like a jerk when he asked if I was shy. I'd old been shy once in my life and that was when I started making fiends when I moved away from mom. I quickly got over it, and I soon learned to make friends where ever I went very easily.

"Oh you're one of those girls who pretend to be all sweet and quiet and innocent, until you get around other people," he stated as if he knew me.

       I finally looked up at his face, and I had to control my self so I wouldn't gasp. He was really beautiful with his pale green eyes and high cheek bones. He seemed like a perfectly sculpted statue just walking around His face seemed angelic. No, that's not the right word. It was. I mean. It. I mean words just couldn't. You see I can't even finish my sentences just thinking of his beautiful face. The weirdest thing about him was that he reminded me of someone I just couldn't put my finger on who. "You're starring again," he said with a smirk bringing me out of my thoughts of his beauty.

"You know what. Actually never mind I'll prove I'm the quiet type. Watch," I said in that quiet bitter tone I used before. His eyes sparkled with amusement, and he opened his mouth to speak again but stopped as the bus pulled up. I let out a silent prayer because I knew if this boy really wanted to he could make me scream. Out of anger or annoyance.

       I stared a bit more at him. I was trying to figure out why he seemed so familiar. It was as if I'd seen those beautiful pale green eyes a thousand times. I just couldn't remember where I had seen them. He was amazingly statue like. I couldn't help but to wonder if he could pose perfectly still for a sketch, or a painting. I wonder what that painting would turn out like. I bet it would be beautiful no matter how the artist posed him.

Something made me think of my friend from a long time ago. I thought back to Becca's hazel green eyes. How there warmth always cheered me up from a fight with my mom, how her soothing helped me through most of my parents divorce. She was the best friend I had ever had and I missed her some days. I usually wondered what she was up to, if she'd made another friend to replace me, and what her family was like? That brought a new question to my mind. Why was I reminded of Becca when I looked into this boys eyes?

Author's Note

I have this posted on a quizilla site, www.quizilla.com/user/angelofyourxnightmarezx/stuff this is sort of the edited version of that. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think