User:Minithepeanut/Story

Do you ever feel like a bad luck charm? Like simply being in your presence is going to lead someone to their imposing doom? Well I am that. It’s not a matter of just coincidence, in my life I’ve been close to eight males. Seven died of a heart attack, and one was hit by a drunk driver in a freak accident. So, you could probably understand my unwillingness to say yes when Hunter Phillips decided to ask me out for coffee. It’s not that I don’t find him attractive, because that is definitely not the case. I’m just deathly afraid of continuing the streak with him.

The first one was my dad – my real dad – he died when I was two, of a heart attack, and my mother left me soon after at an orphanage where I was adopted by another couple, George and Anna Humphreys. George died three months later, again of a heart attack, which was probably more brought on by his love of large steaks, bacon and sometimes a combination of both, than by some curse, but I still need to include him in my tally because he was significant in my life.

Next was the Hilferty family. Apparently heart failure ran in their family because my first ever friend in school was Damien Hilferty, and we’d have play dates all the time. He and his dad would come over and talk to Anna or Anna and I would go over to their house, but Damien died of a heart attack at the age of eight and a half, and his dad died of what you would call “broken heart syndrome” three months later.

I suppose I could tell you the rest of the stories, like Mr Graham, my favourite teacher in primary school, or Rhys Martin, my first kiss, but they just get more and more depressing because they all end the same way. The point is, seven heart attacks and one drunk driver accident is a lot to be involved in all before turning sixteen. If my mother had predicted this happening, then it’s no wonder she abandoned me the way she did.

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I don’t call Anna my mother, because we both agreed that we didn’t want to compare her to my birth mother. Her first promise to me was that she would never abandon me and fourteen years later, she’s still kept her word.

Anyway, now that you know a bit about me, I can tell you more about Hunter Phillips and the whole reason I started this rant in the first place. Hunter is in the grade above me, ruggedly attractive with a defined jawline and facial hair just long enough to be considered a beard and not stubble. His long black hair sits so it’s just shorter than his head, and he can be seen a lot flicking a disobedient part of his fringe out of his eyes. His looks aren’t for everyone, but he’s definitely not unattractive, and seeing him throw around a football isn’t a horrible way to spend your time.

“I noticed you watching me,” he says with a cheeky smile that says he knows I find him attractive.

“Yeah,” I say, pushing a lock of my golden blonde hair behind my ear. His brown eyes are locked on mine and I find myself starting to melt into them. “What about it?”

“Oh, nothing,” he answers back, maintaining the relaxed nature of the conversation, “I just came over to ask you something.”

“Ask away.”

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me sometime.”

Upon hearing that, I have a knee-jerk reaction, and I have to detach myself as much as possible from him, so I lie, and I tell him that I’m really not interested, and I start to get a bit sick in the stomach as I lie to him because another part of me is screaming “Yes, yes. Oh my god, say yes.” It’s like I was destined to be a lesbian, only I don’t find myself attracted to girls at all.