Ever since I can remember, I've been dancing to my own tune. Skipping to my own beat. Laughing to my own joke?
A stretch? I didn't think so either.
Needless to say, I didn't think much when people tried to warn me about Warren. After all, what's not to like about a 6 foot 2, handsome, blue-eyed, 18 year old?
My point exactly.
Sure, I've only known him for two weeks but something about his eyes and his boy-ish smile just draw me in. The way he says my name sends goosebumps creeping up my neck.
No, this is definitely right.
And sitting here under a blanket of stars on plastic lawn chairs pretty much feels like the Taj Mahal with him by my side. Standing up, I smiled at him. He looked up sleepily after staring at the fire for so long.
"Hey," he mumbled roughly.
I laughed lightly, "Shall we?"
He nodded enthusiastically. "We shall."