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Young Adult Stories

HIS PLUMPY QUEEN HER BULLY

HIS PLUMPY QUEEN HER BULLY

5.0
Young Adult Uyammaduchidinma11

"I..hate you" I croaked out brokenly, struggling and failing to hold back the tears spilling in waves from my eyes. "Awwww, is my fat queen crying?" Brandon jested mockingly, laughing as if he had just said something funny. His friends echoed his laughter, making the tears spill even faster from how embarrassed I was. Shaking my head, I turned away from his crude handsome face, but was held back by his hands, gripping my hair painfully. I screamed as he slammed me against the wall, feeling the metallic taste of blood in my mouth. He grabbed my hair roughly, pressing my face harshly against the wall. "You don't walk out till I am done with you," he gritted out, pressing his body against mine. "Please.... Stop, please..." I cried out. "Do I make myself clear?" Brandon snapped, his other hand gripping my waist tightly. I could feel his hard hot body against mine, and his nails digging painfully into my waist. "Yes," I whispered, "please let me go." He pressed harder against my body, his hands on my waist tightening. I could feel his hot breath against my neck, and despite my situation, my body was shamelessly reacting to him. Loud snickers alerted us to the fact we were not alone. Brandon released my hair, leaning away from my body, before pushing me forward. I stumbled, nearly falling to my feet. "Now run you fat bitch," he yelled, before laughing with his friends. I hightailed it out of there, crying my eyes out. Being fat wasn't a problem, her mother always told her, never failing to remind her how beautiful she was. But for Christy Morris, being fat was a curse. Especially since college and her arch enemy Brandon made it so. Forced to babysit her bully and enemy baby sister, Christy's life takes an unexpected turn. For the worst or better, was still what she was yet to find out. Find out Christy and Brandon's story in this thrilling novel filled with... Romance. Unexpected twist. And dare I say.... Love.

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Stuck With Mr. Popular

Stuck With Mr. Popular

4.8
Young Adult no_one_finds_me

It took everything in me not to kiss him back. His lips moved against mine in a perfect rhythm. "Soaf-Soaf please listen to me" He said while his blue eyes were gazing into mine. His breath fanned my face. We both were panting. My heart was thudding hard against my chest. "I-I have to go." I said shocked after what had just happened now. Fucking shit. Somehow I got myself out of his grip and took the file which fell on the floor when he pinned my hands on the wall and ran out of the classroom. I heard him mumbling a few curse words as I rushed to the door. "Soaf...Soaf" His voice faded as I ran out of the classroom. What has just happened? What the hell is wrong with him? He kissed me. Raymond Reynolds-The most popular boy of our school just kissed me. Why would he kiss me? No one even talks to me in at school. He didn't even know my name two weeks ago. Suddenly an image of light brown pair of eyes glaring at me pops up in my mind. Ellen Whitmore. She's going make my life a living hell. ************ Sophie Esinberg is your typical nerd with glasses, books clutched in her arms and face down while walking down the school hallway. She wasn't like this earlier. She used to be outspoken and confident. Then what changed her? Sophie faced a hell lot of bullying and had no one who could stand up for her. After her childhood best friend Daniel left her she accepted her life as a loner. Not until one day she is forced into a project with School's Famous Bad boy, also known as Mr. Popular- Raymond Reynolds. Everything comes crashing down when she finds that she is falling for cocky , super hot and irresistible Mr. Popular. But she knows she's a nobody in his world. She is incompetent. Will she fight against her instincts and let him break her heart?

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When Friends Become Your Cruelest Foes

When Friends Become Your Cruelest Foes

5.0
Young Adult Xie Huan

"Lily, you should do it," Tiffany Hayes purred, her eyes fixed on me in the art academy' s lounge. As the scholarship student, managing our class' s two-million-dollar art fund seemed like a twisted honor, a responsibility the elite kids conveniently dodged. Three years later, at our graduation exhibition-the night my life' s work was finally displayed-my childhood friend, Mark Miller, seized the microphone. "Our class art fund has been mismanaged," he announced, his gaze piercing me. "One point eight million dollars is missing." The dreams I had meticulously built shattered. Every eye in the buzzing gallery turned to me, judging, accusing. Tiffany, Mark' s girlfriend, stood by his side, her feigned sympathy a cold knife twisting inside me. They stripped me bare, painting me a thief, a public spectacle. "I have records of everything," I insisted. "Every dollar is accounted for!" But the projection screen behind him flashed a balance of $1,250.34, sealing my fate. "Just tell us what you did with the money," Tiffany cooed, trying to lure out a confession. "We were friends." Friends? Their betrayal burned hotter than any accusation. They had done this. Set me up. Framed me. The rage and humiliation were suffocating, but a cold resolve began to crystallize within me. They thought they had broken me, but they had just ignited a fire. I walked out of the gallery that night, not in defeat, but with a fierce determination. I would find the truth. I would expose them. And they would pay.

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