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❝A crush can either crush you or heal your crushed heart.❞
Victoria Becky's life is like any other normal eighteen-year-old teenager: fun with friends, crying over homework, procrastination...
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"You are staring at that checklist again?" the friend raised his question for the love-struck or rather obsessed person sitting in front of him.
"Hmm..."
The friend sighed.
"Remind me again, why did I ever agree on helping you with this shit? Your secret obsession with her is killing me. Why don't you just take action or let go?"
The obsessed lover finally replied.
"Getting Victoria is my dream, my need, and rushing into it would ruin it. Baby steps... baby steps... Just a little time before this checklist is done. Few months till her delicate, tender body is mine. All mine."
"You're sick, my friend."
"Just for her. Just for Victoria."
__________
VICTORIA'S POV
Sitting on the usual seat in the back with my arm on the desk and chin propped on the palm, my eyes zoom in the blonde sitting a few seats ahead in the row beside. Paige Dennis, or might I say the epitome of perfection, is like an itch that leads to uneasiness. Paige makes me squirm in my seat with her clever cat-like blue eyes complemented with her flawlessly intelligent, almost robotic brain. If beauty with brains had a name, it would be Paige Dennis. It's obvious- the girl is naturally striking.
Her curly hair bounced up and down as she nodded her head to the teacher's instructions.
Something about Paige always ignited me with a tint of jealousy. How this boring lesson could be interesting to anyone, especially Paige, is beyond me. Being a cheerleader and the definition of a VSCO girl, no one expected her to be a straight-A student or such a genius. It was expected from her to be mean, hang out with the popular kids, flirt with jocks, and fluff around her stuff. However, she was anything but conceited. Vanity, narcissism, or egocentric weren't words one would use to describe her because lord, have mercy if she would even let a profanity out of her perfect pink lips. Wrapped with innocence and a philanthropist attitude, she seemed almost too good to be true.
I hummed and leaned back on my chair, observing Paige and trying to figure out how her insides work. If only I could borrow her brain and maybe her face and her body... and everything she has. Almost perfect. How does it even feel to be someone so admirable? Maybe something like the freaky friday movie will happen with us and I'll be Paige for a week and finally aware of how it feels to be her.
