Labeled Love Read Online Free
a shower cap. I just gave her an are you kidding me? look that said aren’t those just for old people? I’m not wearing a shower cap. I don’t even think Betty White would wear a shower cap.
After carefully rinsing off, I grab my light-colored ripped jeans that I told Jules were not up for negotiation and paired them with my new pink frilly tank top. Yes, it’s frilly. Like I said, Jules picked it out, and she loves frilly.
I get dressed and spritz my tropical body spray all around me. It’s like a tropical storm cloud of fragrance. My older brother, Beau, hates to smell it since it lingers in my room and pretty much the entire house. I don’t care because I love it. Does he think we want to smell his dirty football socks? Well, honestly, that smell doesn’t last long, as Mom pretty much pulls them off his feet when he walks through the front door. She even puts dryer sheets in his shoes. Who does that? His room smells like Hollister, the clothing store. You could probably put a live stream of Huntington Beach inside his room, making you think you had just walked into the store.
MY MOM PEEKS her head through my bedroom door again. “Here’s the box to put the books in you’d like to donate.” Earlier, she said we were volunteering at one of the local community centers today and asked me if I had any old books I wanted to give. She sets the box down as I shake my head. I swear, I have no privacy.
I walk over to my bookcase. It’s loaded with books I’ve collected over the years. I love to read, getting it from my mom. She’s an avid reader. I run my finger over the book spines that I have lined up perfectly. They’re organized. I like to keep my favorites on the first couple of shelves. I grab one of the books I finished recently. It’s a love story about a girl finding her perfect boy. I’m not really supposed to be reading it yet. According to Mom, it has ‘suggestive scenes’ in it, but she rarely looks at my bookcase, and Jules let me read her copy first. We have our own little best friend book club. I place it back in its specific spot next to the rest of the series, and then I lean down and grab a small stack that I don’t mind donating. I put them into the box.
After grabbing my backpack, I shut my bedroom door, practically getting run over by my brother who is racing down the hallway. Beau is the high school quarterback. He just started early morning practices for football season, and he likes to come home to shower before he heads back to school.
“Sorry, Shay. Do you want me to carry that box to the kitchen for you?” He smiles down on me as he scrunches up his nose. You’d think being the big man on campus would make him cocky, but he’s not. He’s the best big brother.
“No, thanks. Have a good day.”
“God, how much of that stuff did you spray? I’m practically tasting it in my mouth,” he says, holding his hand over his mouth.
I love my brother. He’s so fun to bug, and he has the biggest heart. “Does it taste like a tropical smoothie?” I laugh.
He groans. “Cute, Shay.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty cute. Just kidding. No, really I’ve been told I’m kind of adorable.”
“Whoever told you that was just being nice. You’re really ugly.”
“That’s just mean, Beau!” I yell toward his room as he walks away, laughing.
I hear his bare feet on the tile behind me as I head down “exhibit row,” otherwise known as our hallway. Our hallway is adorned with all the art we make in school. Every picture is encased in a big white frame and lines the entire wall leading to the great room. I have to admit, as I make eye contact with each one, I’m a pretty good artist. Beau, on the other hand, um, not so much. All his pictures look like blobs of nothing. Oh, except the few he did when he started playing football. Those are much better; they actually look pretty well done. As for my twin siblings, Tristan and Tatum, yeah, theirs still look like blobs of
After carefully rinsing off, I grab my light-colored ripped jeans that I told Jules were not up for negotiation and paired them with my new pink frilly tank top. Yes, it’s frilly. Like I said, Jules picked it out, and she loves frilly.
I get dressed and spritz my tropical body spray all around me. It’s like a tropical storm cloud of fragrance. My older brother, Beau, hates to smell it since it lingers in my room and pretty much the entire house. I don’t care because I love it. Does he think we want to smell his dirty football socks? Well, honestly, that smell doesn’t last long, as Mom pretty much pulls them off his feet when he walks through the front door. She even puts dryer sheets in his shoes. Who does that? His room smells like Hollister, the clothing store. You could probably put a live stream of Huntington Beach inside his room, making you think you had just walked into the store.
MY MOM PEEKS her head through my bedroom door again. “Here’s the box to put the books in you’d like to donate.” Earlier, she said we were volunteering at one of the local community centers today and asked me if I had any old books I wanted to give. She sets the box down as I shake my head. I swear, I have no privacy.
I walk over to my bookcase. It’s loaded with books I’ve collected over the years. I love to read, getting it from my mom. She’s an avid reader. I run my finger over the book spines that I have lined up perfectly. They’re organized. I like to keep my favorites on the first couple of shelves. I grab one of the books I finished recently. It’s a love story about a girl finding her perfect boy. I’m not really supposed to be reading it yet. According to Mom, it has ‘suggestive scenes’ in it, but she rarely looks at my bookcase, and Jules let me read her copy first. We have our own little best friend book club. I place it back in its specific spot next to the rest of the series, and then I lean down and grab a small stack that I don’t mind donating. I put them into the box.
After grabbing my backpack, I shut my bedroom door, practically getting run over by my brother who is racing down the hallway. Beau is the high school quarterback. He just started early morning practices for football season, and he likes to come home to shower before he heads back to school.
“Sorry, Shay. Do you want me to carry that box to the kitchen for you?” He smiles down on me as he scrunches up his nose. You’d think being the big man on campus would make him cocky, but he’s not. He’s the best big brother.
“No, thanks. Have a good day.”
“God, how much of that stuff did you spray? I’m practically tasting it in my mouth,” he says, holding his hand over his mouth.
I love my brother. He’s so fun to bug, and he has the biggest heart. “Does it taste like a tropical smoothie?” I laugh.
He groans. “Cute, Shay.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty cute. Just kidding. No, really I’ve been told I’m kind of adorable.”
“Whoever told you that was just being nice. You’re really ugly.”
“That’s just mean, Beau!” I yell toward his room as he walks away, laughing.
I hear his bare feet on the tile behind me as I head down “exhibit row,” otherwise known as our hallway. Our hallway is adorned with all the art we make in school. Every picture is encased in a big white frame and lines the entire wall leading to the great room. I have to admit, as I make eye contact with each one, I’m a pretty good artist. Beau, on the other hand, um, not so much. All his pictures look like blobs of nothing. Oh, except the few he did when he started playing football. Those are much better; they actually look pretty well done. As for my twin siblings, Tristan and Tatum, yeah, theirs still look like blobs of
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