Burning Love. by Emily Zimmerman. (classic novels for teens .txt) 📖

been lost in the fire, so my insurance company helped me with everything. My bank replaced my credit cards, my driver’s license was copied and sent to me, and I got money back for fire damage. But I still had no car; I’d used public transportation to get back to my home town.
I used the money from the insurance to stock up on my wardrobe and get a new phone. So now my closet was full. I grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of jeans and walked out only to run into solid muscle.
I looked up and came face to face with Dan. We both stood frozen, except for his arms circling my waist to keep me from falling. A slow grin spread across his face, his eyes burning and mischievous. He tightened his arms, crushed me to his chest so my feet were lifted off the ground, and kissed me. The kiss held a sort of teasing, a message to say that this was only a taste of what was to come. He pulled back, eyes molten chocolate.
He released me and without another word, walked out the door. I leaned back against the closet door and put my hand to my heart.
“A man that sinful should be shot.” I whispered.
I walked into the kitchen and had just decided to make waffles when my cell phone rang. I answered it while I was making the batter.
“Hello?”
“Sky? Hi sweetheart, it’s me! Your mother.” I dropped the wooden spoon that I had just pulled from the droor.
I hesitated for a few moments before saying in a slightly cheerful voice. “Hi mom.” I leaned down and picked up the spoon.
“I got the number from your Uncle Jess. I’m out of rehab now, and I promise I’ll stay out this time.”
I wanted to believe it, I really did, but she’d been saying that for the past two years. “Mom…” I sighed. “You’ve been promising me that for a long time now.” It hurt to say it, but I had to be honest.
“I know…I know I have been, but this time is different! You’ll see. I’ll be sober from now on; it’s what your father would have wanted! I promise you, I’m not taking one drink.” She said.
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. “Okay…talk to you later.”
“I love you.”
I hesitated. “I…bye mom.” I sighed.
I pressed the end button and stared at the phone for a few seconds before setting it down and pouring the batter in the waffle maker. Dan came in a few minutes later as I was making the last waffle.
“I’m off. If there are any problems I’ll be with my phone at all times. I’ll be home early today, we got someone to take the second shift” He said, grabbing an apple from the fridge.
I nodded, my mind weighing heavily on the fact that I couldn’t tell my own mother I loved her. “Bye.” He said.
“Bye.” I muttered.
He paused for a second, studying me as I sat down glumly at the table. “We’ll talk about it when I get home.” He decided.
No we won’t, I thought, leaning my head down and sipping my coffee. He left the house and I was alone again. I sighed and slumped in my chair, staring at the shiny black tile beneath me. I nibbled at my waffles, still thinking about mom. She was perfect before dad died, never had a sip of alcohol, all that changed after dad died, I couldn’t get her away from the bar.
I jumped as a knock came to the door. I looked out the peep hole to see a delivery man with a small package in his hand. I turned the alarm off and opened the door.
“Hello. Mrs. Parkinson?” I tensed and my heart sank.
“I go by Miss. Grey now, Mr. Parkinson and I are separated.” I informed him.
“Sorry for the Mix up. Please sign this.” He said, handing me a clip board with a piece of paper.
I signed his clip board and handed it back to him. He tipped his hat, handed me the box and left. I told myself to stay calm, that’s all it was, a mix up. I sighed as my legs started to hurt worse than usual, I couldn’t stand for longer than ten minutes. I went into the living room and sat down on the couch, box in my lap.
The box was just a simple brown box; it was long and rectangular, and taped shut nice and tight. I retrieved a knife from the kitchen and cut through the tape. I opened the box and almost threw it across the room.
Inside the box was a white carnation, to someone who didn’t know anything about John and I’s relationship, which was everyone but John, Gram and I, they would think it was just a simple gift. To me it was a cold hard stab of fear through the heart.
**
John and I sat across from each other; between us was our beautiful mahogany wood two-person table in the dining room. It was our first anniversary, and the first time John showed his true colors to me. I lifted my wine that he’d bought special for this night and took a sip. John took my other hand and leaned forward, kissing it like the gentleman he’d always been.
“Happy anniversary Baby.” He smiled his charming smile.
I smiled back. “And it’s been a wonderful anniversary.” I replied.
He held up a finger to tell me to wait. “It’s going to get better. Now close your eyes, I want to give you something.” He murmured.
I closed my eyes and a few minutes later I felt something smooth, yet silky in the palm of my hand. I opened my eyes to see a white fake carnation.
“Now before you say anything. I want to tell you why it’s fake. It’s fake because no matter how long you have it, how much it goes through, it’ll never die. That’s what our love means to me. Our love will never die.” He murmured.


At the time I thought it was sweet, now I understand it was just a ploy to get me to fall even more in love with him, and I bought it.
I got up to walk around the table, but as I did, I accidentally knocked over the wine glass I had set down, making it fall and break on the hardwood floor.
“Oh my gosh!” I gasped; the whine had reached the area rug and stained it.
John suddenly got up; I looked up at him and realized that he was angry. “You little bitch! Look what you did!” he walked angrily around to where I was standing and took hold of my shoulder, forcing me down on one knee, making me cut it on the glass.
He took the flower he gave me and threw it on the ground, getting a whine stain on one of the petals.
He slapped me across the face, grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the house, telling me to clean the mess up on his way.
**
I turned the flower over and put my hand to my mouth, stifling a sob. The whine stain was still there. A note was attached to the silk-wrapped stem. It read: Till death do us part, love you Baby.
I was caught in a wave of nausea, and my throat closed over. He’d found me, and now he was making it clear that he was never going to let me go. I had to get out of here.
I got up, threw the box on the floor and ran into my room, ignoring the pain in my legs. I ran into my closet and grabbed the duffle bag that my Aunt Mabel got me and threw it on the bed. I’d just started stuffing it with clothing, I was going to call a cab, and I was going to leave.
I heard the door open and close and a male voice call for Linda. I creeped out into the hall and back into the living room. Just as I entered the foyer, I ran into solid muscle.
I yelped and stumbled back, but just as I was about to fall, two strong arms caught me. I looked up and my eyes met these bright blue ones.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” He apologized.
“No, it was my fault, I should have been watching where I was going.” I said, backing away from him.
The man was tall, about as tall as Dan, with strong-looking muscular arms, broad shoulders, and a tan complexion. His eyes were aqua blue, and his hair was sandy blonde. He smiled charmingly at me and I got the same tingly feeling down my spine as when Dan smiled at me.
“Hi. I’m Blake; I’m a friend of Dan’s. I was looking for Linda because she has one of my shirts.” Blake said.
I smiled back and shook his hand. “I’m Skylar, but you can call me Sky. My apartment burned down and I’m living here until I can get back on my feet. Linda just left yesterday; she was going to Santiago to visit her niece. Would you like me to help you find your shirt instead?” I asked him politely.
“That’d be great. She should have it in the laundry room.” He said.
I nodded and walked through the house, ignoring the pain as I walked. A voice in the back of my head told me that it might be good to rest, but I ignored it.
I walked into the laundry room and immediately spotted a lone shirt hanging on the rack beside the washer and dryer.
“Is this it?” I asked, pointing to the shirt.
He nodded, grabbing the shirt off the rack. “Yep. So are you and Dan…you know… dating?” he lifted his eyebrow and grinned.
I quickly shook my head. “Oh no. I mean…I don’t think so, if we are I don’t know anything about it.” I laughed.
“So…he wouldn’t mind me asking you to dinner.”
I stopped and looked at him. “You mean…like a date?”
He chuckled deeply. “That’s what I mean.”
I smiled slightly. “Umm…I don’t know…”
“Oh come on. We’ll just have some dinner and if you don’t like me, then we won’t go out again. How about it?”
I thought about it, it might be fun, and he seemed as charming as Dan.
“Okay. Sounds fun.” I said.
“Great! I’ll pick you up Saturday at six o clock.” He said.
I nodded and we walked out of the laundry room.
As we walked passed my room, Blake paused. “Looks like someone’s still unpacking.” He pointed to my bag which was messily thrown on the bed; clothes were hanging out of it.
I laughed nervously and shrugged. “I haven’t had time.”
He raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Huh.” Was all he said. “Well